“It’s fairly certain that the creatures of the Wasteland will come east now, Dahlaine,” Aracia was saying as Red-Beard and Longbow entered Veltan’s map-room. “After Yaltar’s volcano destroyed the ones in Zelana’s Domain, they turned south to attack the nearest part of the Land of Dhrall, and east is closer to south than north. They’ll attack me next. That should be obvious.”

“You’re overlooking something, Aracia,” Dahlaine disagreed. “The servants of the Vlagh are cramming thousands—or even millions—of years of development into very short periods of time. If we assume that they’re still thinking at the most primitive level, I think we’ll start getting some very nasty surprises. I’m almost positive that their ‘overmind’ has come to realize that the attack here in the south turned into a disaster, and that would make ‘closer’ very unattractive. I’m quite certain that their next attack will be as far from here as possible.”

“Aren’t we wandering just a bit?” Zelana suggested. “We won’t know which way the bugs will move until one of the Dreamers gives us that information. I’d say let’s wait. In the light of what happened in my Domain and Veltan’s, we just don’t have enough information to lock anything in stone yet.”

“Zelana’s right, you know,” Veltan agreed. “We can’t be sure of anything until one of the children has one of ‘those’ dreams.”

“May I make a suggestion?” the silver-haired Trogite Narasan asked.

“I’ll listen to anything right now,” Dahlaine replied.

“I’m unfamiliar with the lands of the north and the east, but wouldn’t it make sense to alert the local population to the possibility of an incipient invasion? If the people of both regions know that there’s a distinct possibility that the bug-men will attack, they’ll be able to make some preparations.”

“That makes sense, Aracia,” Dahlaine conceded. “If what happened here and off to the west is any indication of what’s likely to happen in your Domain or mine, the local population will probably play a large part in giving us another victory.”

Aracia glared at her older brother, but she didn’t respond.

Longbow tapped Red-Beard’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go get a breath of fresh air,” he quietly suggested.

“It is just a bit stuffy in here,” Red-Beard agreed. “Lead on, friend Longbow.”

They went on out of the map-room and then some distance along the dimly lit hallway.

“Is it just my imagination or is Zelana’s older sister behaving a bit childishly?” Longbow asked.

“I don’t really know her all that well,” Red-Beard said, “and I think I’d like to keep it that way. It seems to me that she’s got an attitude problem.”

“Or maybe even something worse. Remember what happened back in the ravine? Suddenly, for no reason at all, Zelana jumped up, grabbed Eleria, and flew on back to her grotto on the Isle of Thurn.”

“Oh, yes,” Red-Beard said. “Sorgan almost had a fit when she ran off like that without giving him all that gold she’d promised him. If I remember right, it finally took a bit of bullying by Eleria to bring her back to her senses.”

“I don’t know very much about Aracia,” Longbow admitted, “but I’m starting to catch a strong odor of irrationality in her vicinity. Her mind doesn’t seem to work anymore.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Longbow,” Red-Beard disagreed. “It might just be working very well. From what I’ve heard, anybody in her Domain who doesn’t want to do honest work joins the priesthood and spends all his time adoring her.”

“That’s what I’ve heard too.”

“Soldiering is one kind of honest work, isn’t it?”

“Not as hard as farming is, maybe, but it’s still harder than adoring somebody.”

“If that’s the way things are in her Domain, doesn’t that sort of suggest that she doesn’t have anything at all like an army over there? Wouldn’t that explain why she wants all the soldiers Zelana and Veltan hired to come on over to her territory to protect her if the bug-people decide to come her way?”

“Very good, Red-Beard,” Longbow said. “Maybe she’s not quite as irrational as it might seem. If her Domain is totally undefended, she’ll need just about everybody with a sword or a bow to come there to protect her. It’s very selfish, of course, but I don’t think that would bother her. She seems to believe that she’s the most important thing in the whole world, so from her way of looking at things, we’re all obliged to rush to her defense.”

“There’s not much that we can do about it right now, friend Longbow—except possibly to suggest to Zelana that she’d better keep a close eye on her big sister.”

“I’m sure that Zelana already knows about her sister’s peculiarities, but we might want to caution Sorgan and Narasan about this.”

“You’re probably right. Should we go on back and listen to the screaming? Or would you rather go fishing?”

The squabbling of Dahlaine and Aracia continued for another half hour or so, and then Ara, Omago’s beautiful wife, joined them on the balcony of the map-room. “Supper’s ready,” she announced.

“That’s just about the best news I’ve heard all day,” Sorgan Hook-Beak declared. “Let’s go eat before everything gets cold.”

They all trooped on down the hallway to Veltan’s impromptu dining-room. That was one of the characteristics of the elder gods that Red-Beard had never fully understood. There was a certain practicality involved in their lack of a need for sleep, for if some kind of emergency came up, a sleeping god might not be able to deal with it. But Red-Beard couldn’t for the life of him see why they didn’t eat. They didn’t need nourishment, of course, but there was more to eating food than just satisfying the grumbling in the belly. Dinners in particular were generally a social event that brought people closer together and smoothed over various disagreements. Red-Beard was almost positive that the elaborate dining-room in Veltan’s house hadn’t even been there before the outlanders had arrived, and he was fairly sure that the dining-room Veltan had added to his house had originally been Ara’s idea. Omago’s wife was quite probably the best cook in the entire world, but she was wise enough to know that getting people together and establishing friendships was even more important than eating. There were several peculiarities about Ara that Red-Beard didn’t fully understand—yet.