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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