The gnome turned and looked up at Kevan, who in turn noted that since he could still see the little man he must not be of the Wanagemeswak.
"You're a mortal," said the gnome in tones of accusation.
"Yes," confessed Kevan.
"Then, by the same reasoning," continued the gnome, "it must be that you were sent here by Brian Shanachie and that it's Alviss you're looking for. Now, that will be a donnybrook for fair when you find him. I've a notion to go with you."
"It'll really amount to very little," Kevan said hastily. "I'm sure you'll find this much more interesting. But you could tell me how to find Alviss."
The gnome seemed to be debating with himself, but renewed shrieks of rage from the other side of the throne room drew his gaze back there. He jerked a thumb in the direction from which Kevan had come. "Across the way and into the hill," he said.
Kevan MacGreene stepped back outdoors and saw a small brass door set in the hill. He walked across and entered. As the door swung shut behind him, he found himself in a tunnel running straight back through the hill. It was dimly lighted, but Kevan managed to make his way along it—with some difficulty, however, since he had to walk stooped over to keep from bumping his head.
After walking for some time, around numerous twists and bends, Kevan heard the murmur of a voice somewhere ahead. As he proceeded, it became louder. Finally, he rounded a turn in the tunnel and saw a small, stocky dwarf busily stirring a huge cauldron with one hand while with the other he kept throwing various ingredients into the steaming pot. It was he who muttered and Kevan could now make out the words.
"A pinch of chlorite, a bit of mica, some biotite, spoon of felspar; a little graphite, and now amphibole, dust with kyanite, and top with idocrase—"
"What's idocrase?" Kevan asked.