“Where have you gone to?” cried Rucksack. He hurried forward until he came to a ridge, which skirted the full diameter of the desert. 

The magician slid down the slope. Suddenly it changed directions, pushing him inside the dune. He broke through an entrance covered with sandy mucous. When his body stopped rolling he found himself lying on polished stone. At first he felt claustrophobic, but soon realized there was fresh air under the ground. Huge pillars extended tens of feet to the ceiling. A clamoring of thousands of tiny feet could be heard, along with humming. Suddenly, the unicorn skidded to a halt next to him. “Nuptial, where have you been? Isn’t this place amazing; it appears to be some sort of kingdom.”

The unicorn wasn’t excited to be there and made itself clear, “Whiney,” as if to say “Let’s get out of here!”

The other noises in the chamber grew louder. Soon the atrium filled with banging and shutting doors, drowning out all other noise. Fountain lights turned off, feet were too numerous to count, and Rucksack was frightened. He realized he was surrounded and couldn’t sense what was near him. Then a parting of the ways happened from the north with rhythmic stomping. A faint ball of light rounded a far pillar and Rucksack saw a procession of legs carrying a fat king on a sedan.