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elemental magicks, Mufgar had coerced the dirt, rock, and stone of the tunnel systemin which they traveled to alter its labyrinthian course and open a passageway to the surface. "We willnever catch a scent down here," he had said to his party as the dirt face of a nearby wall became like athing of liquid, swirling and falling away to reveal a newly fashioned tunnel that ascended to the surface. "It is on the land above where our destiny awaits us."
    Mufgar had thanked the elements for their assistance, leaving an offering of dried fruit before beginninghis ascension into the new morning sun. It had been eight hours since heand his tribe had emerged frombelow, eight hours since any had spoken a word to him.
    He sensed their anger, their fear, and their disappointment over the judgment he had passed upon them. He was truly sorry that they questioned his decision, but he knew they would not abandon their duty totheir masters. They would hunt the Nephilim as the Powers had ordered, capture him, and earn theirfreedom. That is how it will be,   he thought, remembering the strange vision he'd had while sleeping. Avision of success.
    Mufgar raised his hand to stop their progress through the dense wood. He listened carefully to soundsaround him, the chirping of various birds, the rustling of the wind through trees heavy with leaves—andsomething else.
    "Is it the Nephilim, Mufgar?" Tehom hissed at his side, raising his spear and looking nervously about the
    forest.
    "No," the Orisha Chieftain said. He listened again to the sounds way off in the distance, the sounds of

    machines.   What are they called?   He searched his brain for the strange-sounding word. Automobiles,   he remembered with great satisfaction. "Not the Nephilim," he whispered, "but vehicles that will bring him to us."
    Mufgar pointed through the woods to somewhere off in the distance. "I saw it in a vision of my own," hesaid, deciding to share his experience with his subjects, to give them faith in hisleadership. He turned andglared at Shokad. "As I slept, I, too, had a vision. A vision that the Nephilim would come to us—"
    The shaman quickly looked away with a scowl upon his ancient features.
    "—and he would fall against our might." Mufgar raised his spear in an attempt to rally his hunters. "And for our bravery, Lord Verchiel bestowed upon us our freedom, and we found the location of the blessedSafe Place ."
    The Orishas all bowed their malformed heads, blessing themselves furiously.
    It had been the strangest dream, as clear as the day they hunted in now. It was all there for him, all theanswers he had sought. The doubts he had been experiencing since the last council all dispelled likesmoke in the wind. A holy vision had been bestowed upon him, maybe from the spirits of the greatcreators themselves, a vision that told him they would be victorious. He could ask for nothing better.
    Mufgar turned to the shaman, who lagged behind. The old Orisha squatted down and took a handful ofbones and smooth, shiny rocks from a purse at his side.
    "You do not trust your chieftain's sleeping visions, Shokad?" he asked the shaman.
    The old creature said nothing as he tossed the bones and stones onto the ground before him. His wingsunfurled and fluttered nervously as he began to read the results of his throw.
    "Hmmmm," he grumbled, rubbing his chin as he discerned the signs.
    "What do they say, Shokad?" Mufgar asked. "Do the bones and stones speak of victory and freedom?"
    The old Orisha was silent as he gathered up his tools of divination and returned them to his purse.
    "Speak, shaman," Mufgar ordered. "Your chief commands you to reveal what you have seen."
    "The bones and stones speak of death," Shokad said gravely.
    Zawar and Tehom gasped beside him. "Death?" Tehom asked in a voice filled with dread.
    "Death ... but for whom?" Zawar wanted to know.
    Shokad shook his head, the bones in his hair rattling as they struck one another. "They were not specific,but I can