and between sorcerers. Tiny stories of people so common they would move thehearts of any who listened. From the princely military-governor with his HellHound elite guard to the humblest thief, they were all grist for Hakiem's mill.If he had personally commanded their performances they could not have performedtheir roles better.

The storyteller's smile was more sincere as he raised his cup for another sip.Then his eye was caught by a figure lurching through the door and he froze inmid-movement.

One-Thumb!

The Vulgar Unicorn's owner had been absent for some time, causing no smallquestion among the patrons about his fate. Now, here he was, large as life ...well, not quite as large as life.

Hakiem watched with narrowed eyes as One-Thumb slumped against the bar, seizinga crock of wine while his normally practised fingers fumbled with the stopperlike a youth with his first woman. Unable to contain his curiosity longer, theold storyteller untangled himself from his chair and scuttled forward with aspeed that belied his age.

'One-Thumb,' he cackled with calculated joviality, 'welcome back!'

The massive figure straightened and turned, focusing vacant eyes on theintruder. 'Hakiem!' The fleshy face suddenly wrinkled with a wide smile. 'By thegods - the world is normal.'

To the storyteller's amazement, One-Thumb seemed on the verge of tears as hestepped forward, arms extended to embrace the old man like a long-lost son.Recoiling, Hakiem hastily interposed his wine cup between them.

'You've been gone a long time,' he said, abandoning all semblance of subtlety.'Where have you been?'

'Gone?' The eyes were vacant again. 'Yes, I've been gone. How long has it been?'

'Over a year.' The storyteller was puzzled, and insatiable.

'A year,' One-Thumb murmured. 'It seems like ... the tunnels! I've been in the