A tall man, with dark deep-set eyes, Herd Eld reached out with his arms and Spirit to his defiant daughter. “You must not grudge poor Oulaa her lapan,” he said. “She must wait alone in the cavern while my beautiful, strong Teera runs and plays—”

  Wrenching her shoulders out of her father’s grasp, Teera sank to her knees, closing her eyes and mind. Sheltering the soft warmth of her pet beneath her crouching body, she wailed with grief and anger. Sobbing and choking, she wailed louder and louder so that even her Spirit was deafened, and she could no longer pense her father’s grief and pity.

  Then Kanna was, again, in the doorway; there were voices, footsteps, and as Teera caught her breath for a louder wail, she heard her mother say, “Come away, Herd. Let her grieve alone. When she has wept awhile, she will see more clearly.”

  “I won’t,” Teera whispered. “I won’t see.” Rubbing her eyes fiercely with the back of her hand, she jumped to her feet, choking down her sobs. Quickly, she gathered up a few possessions—a lantern, a fur cape, a handful of favorite necklaces and bracelets. These she placed in a shoulder pack, arranging them carefully so as to leave a comfortable resting place for Haba. Then, catching up her pet, she placed him carefully inside, tying the top flap down over his head. With the pouch in place on her shoulders, she tiptoed quietly to the door of her chamber, and down the narrow passageway that led to the cavern.

  The sound of tense, anxious voices reached her ears as she crept silently past the beaten copper door-screen outside her parents’ nid-cave. She hurried on without pausing until she reached the archway that led into the central cavern. There she stopped and peered out cautiously. The large cavern that served as kitchen and common room for four other families besides her own, was surprisingly empty. The many wall lamps were still dimmed for the time of sleeping, and dark shadows filled the far corners and hung low in the high arch of the ceiling. The stone tables and benches were still bare and clean, awaiting the hour of the morning food-taking. In the great shadowy expanse, only one figure moved. Near the central hearth Prelf Arnd, the father of Charn, knelt on the slate tiles, adding fresh coals to last night’s embers. His back was towards Teera. Moving silently, she edged towards the cavern entrance and the tunnelway that led to the Center.

  She would not actually go to the Center, the vast intersecting network of natural grottos and man-made caverns that housed the public buildings, exchanges, and assembly halls of Erda. But she would head in that direction because in the thickly converging tunnels of the central area, she would be able to change passageways and directions often, in case of pursuit. She would move then through the outlying areas and on southward towards the mines, the furnaces, and the huge smoke-stained manufacturing caves of the farthest regions.

  Teera had chosen this direction partly because she felt sure that her parents would not expect her to choose it. Instead, they would look first in the direction that she had, at first, planned to go—to the northeast, towards the higher regions, which underlay the Kindar orchards. There, in the favorite playground of Erda children, in the warm sunlight where it might always be possible to find fallen fruits or nuts, one would surely look first for a runaway child.

  So Teera went south, towards the industrial region, choosing a route that took her through only two of the smaller commerce caverns. She hurried through these quickly, passing between rows of small stonewalled shops, trimmed and decorated with grills and doors of beaten or engraved metals. Some of the shops were already open, but Teera did not stop to enjoy their displays as she usually did when she was leisurely wending her way towards the lower academy. Passing jewelry and toy shops without even glancing towards their intriguing wares, she hurried on until she reached the first factory caverns. There, where the public walkways wound past networks of smoke and ventilation tunnels, through noisy cluttered craftcaves, and along the sides of rail tunnels, she began to feel secure. In the smoke and confusion of the industrial caverns, it would be easy to avoid observation.

  She walked for a long time, keeping mostly to supply tunnels, stopping now and then to peer into furnace caves where molten metal glowed in huge vats and steam rose in hissing clouds from the cooling pools. Or again into craftcaves where metal workers labored over intricately shaped tools or dishes.

  At last the noise and stench of the factory caverns diminished, and she found herself wandering down a railway tunnel that, by its appearance, had long been abandoned. The iron rail was almost covered by loose dirt, and the walkway was rough and untended. After a while Teera came to a place where, just ahead of her, the tunnel seemed to disappear into darkness. From this point on, the overhead light jets were no longer supplied with fuel.

  Hesitating for only a moment, Teera knelt down and unshouldered her pack. As she untied the flap, Haba’s soft round face peered out, his nose wrinkling eagerly. Lifting him out, she hugged and nuzzled him before putting him down to stretch his legs while she rummaged in the pack for her lantern. In his slow loping gait, the little creature began to explore the deserted tunnel, while Teera found her flint wheel, struck it, and lit the lantern. Haba had wandered several yards away, back in the direction from which they had come, but at Teera’s soft whistle he returned obediently. With her pet back in the shoulder pack, Teera moved on down the abandoned tunnel.

  Now that she no longer had to keep on the lookout for people who might see and remember her, Teera was free to watch for other things. Her plan was to look for air tunnels that were wide and gradual enough to climb. Although primarily dug for ventilation, many air tunnels were constructed at a shallow pitch so that it was possible to climb up them to the forest floor. Such tunnels were dug in places where the barrier of Root lay close to the surface. From the ends of such air shafts, it was possible to dig for roots and mushrooms, and even, by reaching out between the branches of Root to pick sweet grasses, or set traps for plak and lapan. And it was from these vantage points in the areas that lay beneath the Kindar cities, that lookouts were posted to keep watch for fallen Kindar infants.

  The first three tunnels that Teera climbed were profitless. Lying so close to the inhabited areas, they had obviously been visited often, and every root and mushroom had been harvested. Reaching out between the cold gnarled arms of Root, Teera found that even the grasses of the forest floor had been carefully plucked. Her groping fingers found only a few stubs of grass, which Haba swallowed greedily. At the end of the fourth fruitless climb, Teera decided to stop for a while to rest. The air shaft she had just climbed was particularly wide and shallow, and it ended in a sizable chamber. A nid-shaped indentation hollowed into the chamber floor and several alcoves such as might have been used for lanterns or supplies, indicated that it had once been used by a hunter or lookout. Overhead the Root wove in and out in a pattern that left several sizable openings through which came warmth and light and a fresh, clean fragrance. Extinguishing her lantern, Teera curled up in a small ball and with Haba cradled in her arms, she quickly fell asleep.

  Some time later she awoke feeling sick and weak from hunger. She lit her lantern, replaced Haba in her pack, and then continued to sit, wondering if she would have the strength to get to her feet and go on. Now that it was too late, she thought of all the things she should have done. She should have tried to take some food from the cavern larder, or at least to have waited until after the morning food-taking, before she made her escape. Except that it might then have been too late. Perhaps by then her father would have already taken Haba away to the food-wardens. No, she had had to leave quickly. And now, she would die quickly of starvation, and someday searchers would find her bones with those of Haba, and then her father and mother, and even the wissener Councilors, would be sad for what they had done.

  Tears rolled down Teera’s cheeks and sank into the soft fur of her tunic. Her sobs became rhythmical, reminding her of a chant, the first chant in the Ceremony of Weeping. She began to sing a song, making up new words to go with the slow, sad music of the chant. The song was beautiful and very sad—about a poor, unfortunate girl and her beloved pet lapan and how they died a tragic death. The song went on and on, and without realizing how she had started, Teera found that she was going on, also. Somehow she had managed to get to her feet and make her way down the shaft of the air tunnel, and now she was once again moving southward along the half-buried railway.

  That day, Teera wandered down many miles of deserted Erdling tunnels, and through long stretches of natural grottos and caverns. She climbed dozens of air shafts, to the place where each ended at the Root, and once or twice her climb was rewarded. She found two small tarbo roots, and once even a sizable earth mushroom. She drank often from springs and rivulets that trickled from the grotto’s walls, trying to ease the pain of her empty stomach by filling it with water. As the time passed, she stopped to rest more and more often, and at last, she again fell into a deep sleep.

  She awoke some hours later, hungry and cold and very much afraid. Sitting in the cold darkness, she cuddled her pet in her arms and tried to bring back the fierce strength of her anger and grief. But it was gone. Deep inside where anger had throbbed and pulsed like the flames of a furnace, there now seemed to be nothing but cold, damp ashes. Under her hands the lapan’s small round head was warm and soft, and he sniffed trustingly at Teera’s caressing fingers; but her sadness for his fate was cold and stale, as she told him what she would have to do.

  “We’re going to have to go back, Haba,” she said. “I can’t find enough for us to eat, and it’s too lonely and I’m afraid. I’m sorry, but we must go back.”

  It was not until then that Teera, having decided to retrace her steps, began to realize just how difficult it would be. She had gone only a few yards back down the tunnel in which she had fallen asleep, when she came to an intersection and stopped, realizing that she could not remember which way she had come. She began to hurry, frantically plunging down one passageway after another, looking for familiar landmarks of any kind. But there was nothing, no outcropping of rock, no trickling stream, nor pile of fallen stone that seemed in any way familiar or recognizable. At last Teera’s pace slackened and she began to cry.

  Some time later, her eyes blinded by tears, she stumbled into the entrance of a large air tunnel. Wider than most, the tunnel led upward at an easy pitch and, drawn by the possibility that it might lead to a mushroom or tarbo root, Teera continued up it. The passageway ended in a small chamber so shallow that it was impossible to stand upright. On her knees, Teera reached out through the opening, an almost circular gap in the network of Root, and probed blindly in the soft earth of the forest floor. Her groping fingers encountered no root or mushroom, but there were several small clumps of grass. These she picked carefully. Although the grass was bitter and unsatisfying, she ate the first handful herself and dropped the rest into her shoulder pack, which soon brought the sound of eager nibbling. Stretching her arm as far as she could in every direction, Teera braved the gripping cold of the Root on her arm and shoulder and even on her cheek.

  It was then, with her face close to the Root, that Teera realized that the gnarled branches of Root were cracked and withered and that the opening was larger than most. Withdrawing her arm, she removed her pack and placed it at her feet, and a moment later her head was through the opening and she was actually looking at the forest floor.

  Excitedly, her fear and hunger momentarily forgotten, Teera turned from side to side, staring eagerly at every thing she could see. She could not, in fact, see very much, or for a very great distance. On all sides blocking her view of more distant vistas, large clumps of forest fern rose up and then arched downward. Beneath the arching fronds grew small bushes laden with great clusters of brilliant blossoms, and all around, just beyond her reach, were many patches of the broadleafed grasses that Haba most preferred. It occurred to Teera that although she could not reach the grasses, Haba could harvest them for himself.

  A few minutes later, having put the lapan out through the opening, Teera watched her pet as he loped from place to place grazing eagerly on the patches of grass. For a few moments she was happy, delighted that Haba, at least, was satisfying his hunger, but it was not long before a terrible possibility occurred to her. Haba had always been unusually obedient for a lapan, and almost invariably returned to Teera at her whistled summons. However, he was obviously greatly excited by his new and strange surroundings and by the sudden abundance of food. Realizing that he might be reluctant to return to his confined and hungry existence, Teera had almost decided to call him back, when a chance happening brought disaster. Nosing into an unusually large clump of grass, Haba disturbed a nesting plak hen, who, shrieking with anger, began to beat him about the head with her stumpy flightless wings. In an instant Haba had disappeared from view, running in terror. Teera called for a long time without result before she began to cry.

  “Please come back! Please come back, Haba,” she sobbed. “I’ll let you go again if you want me to, as soon as I find my way back. But I’m lost now and alone, and I need you. Please don’t leave me all alone.”

  The deep green light of the forest floor faded slowly while Teera alternately cried and called, and it was almost dark when she suddenly realized that in her desperation she had pushed her way up until both her arms and even her shoulders were above the Root. Through the soft fur of her tunic she could feel the strange numbing cold of its touch spreading deep into her body. In panic she struggled frantically, first trying to pull her shoulders back through the opening and then attempting to force her way upward. She was still struggling sporadically, between fits of helpless sobbing, when the night rains began. Raindrops mingled with her tears and soaked through her long, thick hair. Her fur tunic grew wet and clammy. Suddenly, after one more convulsive spasm of almost hopeless struggle, Teera found herself free and lying at full length on the forest floor. She was above the Root.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHEN TEERA’S MOTHER AND father realized that she was neither in her chamber nor in the cavern common room, they were not immediately greatly concerned. It was to be expected that children, with their fresh, free strength of feeling, would not easily sacrifice treasures of Spirit and feeling to the cold hard necessities of reason. In assessing her feelings about Teera’s behavior, the mother, Kanna, recognized that she was even a little proud. Annoyed, yes, at the necessity of searching for Teera before she could leave for her day of service, and still anguished over the Spirit pain that Teera must be suffering, but proud, too, of the depth and strength of Love that gave one so young and small the courage to defy parents and Council alike in the defense of a beloved pet.

  The search began casually when Kanna and Herd set forth to visit the caverns of neighboring clans to ask if a small, rebellious girl child had, by any chance, taken refuge there. When it had been determined that Teera was not hiding in the chambers of any of her friends in neighboring clans, Kanna and Herd returned to their own cavern and considered what was to be done next.

  Fortunately, it so happened that it was Herd’s day to remain in the cavern watching over the clan’s troupe of children, and therefore he was not expected at his place of service at the Council of Health. Kanna, however, was already overdue at the storage caves, where she served as an allocator of supplies of food and clothing to each of the many clans of Erda. So it was decided that Kanna should, for the time being, leave the search to Herd, and hasten on to the Center and the storage caves. Her bond-partner would then, after attending to the needs of the youngest children of the clan, go on with the search, leaving the cavern in charge of the eldest.

  Thus it was that Teera’s father was soon hurrying away from his home cavern in the direction of the orchard.

  As he hastened along the ascending tunnels, Herd told himself that he would surely find Teera hiding in one of the passageways that underlay the huge orchards of the Kindar. These passageways, running as they did directly below the Root between each row of orchard trees, were of great importance to the Erdlings. Here where the giant grunds and rooftrees of the forest had been cleared away, and only the much smaller produce trees grew in wide straight rows, the hot, bright sun of Green-sky shone down unfiltered to the surface of the earth, and even below the surface, and into the Erdling tunnels, through the narrow gaps in the Root. Here, with only the network of enchanted Root between them and the sun and sky, those fortunate Erdlings scheduled to visit the orchard, lay naked on fur nids soaking up the vital sunlight, and watching for the occasional fruit or nut that might, in falling, roll down into the tunnel. Free from their daily duties, warmed by the sun and by the company of others in carefree orchard-mood, and always alert to the possibility of a sudden windfall of precious food, it was no wonder that all Erdlings looked on the orchard tunnels as a kind of paradise. And it was surely here that a child would flee who had decided to live outside the bonds of family and clan.

  Herd was quite confident that, in spite of the fact that the gates to the orchard passageways were, in these days of hunger, watched by wardens, it would not be difficult for Teera to gain entrance. Wardens, like all Erdlings, were first of all human, and as humans they were given to lapses in the strict observation of duty. Once the incoming rush of Erdlings assigned to the orchard for the day was checked and admitted, it was much more pleasant to mingle, sharing the combined warmth of sun and communion, than to sit in lonely attention at the gates. Herd, on his own orchard days, had seen many of the wardens lounging among the crowd, chatting and sunning. It was quite likely that Teera had slipped past an untended gateway. And, since the scheduling was changed constantly, the others whom she encountered would not be aware that she was not a legal visitor.