Walls Of Ancient Stone By Kerry Schaefer          The drums beat louder and the music reverberated from the stone walls of the chamber. Daveeka kept on dancing, thrusting aside the cold chill of fear that made the fur rise along his back.          Blindfold covering his eyes, he moved in time to the quickening music, feeling with the sensitive, unfurred soles of his feet for the slight change in texture marking the edge of the small rectangle of rug on which he danced. Step off that rug in any direction, and he would land on a carpet of sharp barbarythorns, their tips coated with poison.          Daveeka's pointed ears swivelled, aiming for Teo, as he tried to pick up some sound from his partner's direction. If they had stayed together thus far, their movements precisely coordinated to form a pleasing pattern, Teo should be at the same end of his own rug, ready to pirouette.          Yes, he could hear a faint swish of fabric, almost drowned out by the heavy beat of the drums. So far, so good. They might well qualify for the priesthood this night, in the Kiari'i Spring Dance, if Elenath smiled on them. It was the only Dance done in pairs, and so it was especially difficult.          Briefly, he recalled joining the Kiari'i cult two summers ago. It had been ten years since he'd become an adult, and still his pouch remained empty. As a result, he remained without status or worth, just one of the many childless males on the bottom rung of rillenu society. But in the cult lack of a child was not important. A male could be valued for other things, such as courage and ability in the Dances.          The music thrummed slowly, with the beat of the drums marking the time to which his feet must move. With each repetition of the basic melody, the drums throbbed slightly louder and faster, and the tempo increased.          Daveeka held the long skirt of his robe gathered in his hands, pulled up above his knees so his feet and legs would be clearly visible to the watchers. He moved in the intricate sequence of steps that he had practiced with Teo, sometimes following traditional patterns and sometimes using new routines they had worked out together. With his bare feet, he could feel the faint guide-patterns he'd woven into his rug, allowing him to keep track of his position.          His heel encountered the slight roughness of the warning border. He had almost gone too far, but he needed enough room for the next sequence. Skipping forward into a short jump, he landed with one knee bent before him, the other knee briefly grazing the soft nap of the rug.          Feeling the edge, the four long toes of his forward foot arched up and back as far as possible, avoiding the barbed thorns by the merest fraction. Sloppy.         Above the insistent beat of the music, he could hear indrawn breaths and soft exclamations from the crowd. It had apparently been closer than he'd realized, unless they were reacting to something one of the other dancers had done. There was no way he could tell. Author KERRY SCHAEFER         Kerry L. Schaefer has written fan fiction for years in universes as diverse as ALIEN NATION, HERCULES, and KUNG FU. Living and working in a small town in North Carolina, the author's interests include the Society for Creative Anachronism, fencing, and inventing sexually unorthodox alien races, cultures, and ceremonies.