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When they reached the abandoned village, she could see the silhouettes of the dark, leaning houses, uninhabited now that the farmers had fled.

Their usually well-guarded homes now had no defenses whatsoever. If the miners had come at any other time, the farmers would have put up a fierce resistance-but not this night.

"The village is ours," Protas said. "Nothing can stop us from destroying everything." The men gave a husky cheer.

They opened their packs to remove the burrowing detonators.

Anja's fingers tingled in an afterwash of spice. She reached into her sack and took out one of the small mechanical bombs. It was an oblong hemisphere, segmented and flexible like a pillbug. Claws and scoops moved on articulated joints so the device could tunnel beneath the soft dirt, implant itself, and wait for an unsuspecting footstep.

With a snle, Anja decided that she would plant one of the detonators directly on the doorstep of Ynos, the village leader. She could claim that small victory for herself... if the one-legged farmer ever managed to get free of his captivity in the mines.

Anja bent down, cradling the device. She peered into the hollow shell of the home where Ynos lived. The hut was windowless, its walls patched and repaired. A slight evening breeze whispered through, like the breath of a sleeping man in the midst of a nightmare. She had not seen him with a wife or any family. Maybe they had died in earlier battles. The place seemed so lonely, so empty, so... sad.

Anja shook her head, gritting her teeth until her jaw hurt. She couldn't think of things like that now. They had a mission to accomplish.

She pushed the activation button and set the small burrower on the ground. Its metallic joints whirred, digging in. The blunt nose of the roving mine tunneled underneath the surface like a robotic mole and covered itself, shifting the topsoil so that it left no sign of its presence.

She backed away carefully, knowing that the land mine now lay in wait for Ynos when he came back to cross the threshold of his abandoned home.

Satisfied, she jogged to a new building and planted her second detonator.

Then she circled behind the scattered village and found one of Protas's men inspecting the nearly empty grain storage warehouse.

He stepped toward the silo, igniter in hand, ready to set fire to the building.

He looked at Anja, his eyes gleaming. "I want to see something burn this night."

"Fine," she said, "but take the grain out first. Our own villagers need it. We'll take turns carrying it back to the mines."

The young man nodded, went into the silo, and salvaged all that he found: three limp sacks containing barely enough for a single meal, though the farmers had hoarded it as if it were gold. Then Anja stood back to watch as the man set his thermal igniter in one of the corners.

The flame blazed white-hot, and the silo caught fire immediately.

Flames trickled up the walls to the rooftop, and soon the entire structure was engulfed.

The fire crackled and hissed, and the smoke smelled sharp and satisfying in Anja's nostrils. The other commandos shouted that they were finished, and Anja came back around to the front of the cluster of wellings.

"Let's go," she said. "We have to get back before daybreak."

"Wait," Protas said. "I've got one last burrower to plant." He held it high, grinning through his wispy blond beard. Then, to Anja's horror, he ran straight toward the village leader's house. "I'm going to give Ynos a real surprise if ever he comes home."

"No!" she shouted. "Wait, I already-" But before he could stop, Protas stepped directly on the spot where Anja had planted her detonator.

The explosion ripped the night, throwing Protas high in the air, his clothes in flames, his body mangled. The front walls of Ynos's house collapsed into rubble. The young man's scream was swallowed in the echoes of the blast.

Anja pressed her hands to her mouth in horror. The other young men stood in shock, staring at where the young brother of their village leader had been only moments before. As rocks,