Crypt of the Moaning Diamond

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Three possible exits from the city bath," Ivy pointed out to her friends, ticking them off on her fingers. "There's the lovely, dank, animal-dug tunnel which that baby phantom fungus came from."

"Where that bugbear's arm has gone, my dear. I'm sure that the mother fungus has it," said Kid, sniffing the air in that direction as he retrieved his stilettos.

"Which may have body parts and bigger phantom fungi," agreed Ivy. "Thank you for reminding us."

The whole group decided against exploring that tunnel.

"Then there's the northern way," said Ivy, gesturing at the line of footprints that indicated where the rest of the unfortunate bugbear's party had apparently fled.

"That is the way that we should go," said Sanval. "If the bugbear was one of Fottergrim's raiders, then they may be setting up an ambush. They may be aiming for the Thultyrl's camp."

"We don't know that," said Ivy. "All we know is that they were down here, and they are probably not friendly."

As an officer of Procampur, Sanval pointed out that it was his duty to find out what the raiders were doing in these ruins and, if possible, capture or kill them. He was very courteous about it and obviously expected everyone to agree with him.

Ivy looked at her friends, and they all rolled their eyes.

"We were not going that way," she told Sanval. "We need to get under the walls of Tsurlagol and bring the western wall down. As the Thultyrl decided."

Sanval looked unconvinced. But before he could voice another argument or strike out on his own, following that mysterious trail of footprints, Zuzzara grabbed him from behind in a friendly headlock. He squirmed, but the half-orc was stronger and quite a bit taller than the officer from Procampur. She leaned over his shoulder to look into his face and show him her grin, full of pointy teeth.

"I owe you my life for being so quick with your blade," said Zuzzara, "so I definitely cannot let you run off and get yourself killed."

To avoid getting his windpipe crushed by Zuzzara's concern, Sanval agreed to stay with the group, but he kept casting glances back at the line of footprints leading away from the bath.

"I should follow them," he said.

"Sweet," said Zuzzara, giving him another hug against her brass-buttoned waistcoat that caused all the breath to leave him with a giant whoosh.

"She's more dangerous friendly than angry," said Ivy, pulling Sanval away. "But she's right too. Sweet of you to want to do your duty. But not proper behavior for an officer."

Sanval's dark eyes widened. "I would never do anything that was inappropriate."

Ivy gave him her most innocent smile. "Then you will want to follow the Thultyrl's orders. He ordered you to go with us and stay with us and help us bring down the wall, didn't he?"

Sanval looked as if he had just swallowed something very bitter. The logic of Ivy's argument was inescapable. Yet, she could see a certain doubt crawled across his handsome features. Would it be more fitting to chase after a possible threat to the Thultyrl or to carry out the Thultyrl's orders and stay with the Siegebreakers?

"It would be best to stay with us," Ivy answered his unspoken question. He looked even more troubled that she had guessed what he was thinking.

Kid trotted back and forth at the entrance to the eastern tunnel.

"Are we going or staying, my dear?" he said to Ivy, clip-clopping a little ways into the darkened entrance.

"Give me your torch," Ivy called to Zuzzara, putting her hand out for it. She took the lit torch from the half-orc and thrust it into the entrance of the tunnel. A long, smooth way ran straight ahead. Strong stone walls and ceiling were clearly visible. It was a tunnel built by humans (or more likely dwarves, added Mumchance). Best of all, it did not look as though it would easily collapse on them.

"It looks like a passage to Tsurlagol," decided Mumchance. "But it might take us farther east than we want, toward the harbor gate rather than the southwest corner of the wall."

"We'll worry about that when we see where we come out," decided Ivy. "We do not have time to try every tunnel. This one looks the most promising to get us close to the wall."

The tunnel ran in a long curve, at times so narrow that they had to go in single file and at other times so wide that four could walk abreast. Kid led, so he could backtrack on the trail of the bugbear's party.

"Quick step, quick step," he chortled as he followed the faint trace of the footsteps in the dust. "They march straight, no pause, no doubt. They are hurrying away from where they came."

"Were they pursued?" asked Ivy.

"Yes, but much later; other feet have passed through here," said Kid. "But the followers miss the arch where we entered and go farther that way." Kid pointed to another tunnel, slanting west and north as far as they could tell.

Bending down to examine the floor, Kid seemed puzzled by some of the marks. "Footprints, here and here, but older tracks too. Tracks of rats on four little feet, tracks of kobolds chasing after the rats, tracks of something with no feet chasing after the kobolds."

"I do not like the sound of that," said Gunderal with a delicate shudder.

"Oh, my dear, these are old, old tracks," said Kid, one ear twitching back and forth in thought.

Ivy wondered if this tunnel had been a good choice. Still it was better than wandering after whatever party that bugbear came from, no matter how much a certain shiny gentleman kept making longing glances over his shoulder.

"What are the freshest tracks in this tunnel?" asked Ivy, convinced that she would not like the answer.

"Those we also saw in the room behind us, big feet and man-sized feet." Kid scratched his nose, obviously mulling over his answer. "And then there were those tracks that hugged the walls and never went to the center of the room."

"You didn't tell us about those!"

"You were in a hurry to leave, my dear. Another group of big feet went tiptoe through the room. The tracks were a little fresher than the dead bugbear that Zuzzara found. Another party of orcs or bugbears perhaps, following the first group. Big hobnailed boots, all of them wore, and there were many treading over the other footsteps."

"Blast." Just what they needed: entire troop movements underground. Could Fottergrim be considering an ambush, using these tunnels to sneak some of his horde outside the walls for a quick attack on the camp? Or was it someone else, with their own secret mission in this rotten, mixed-up, tangled ruin of a dead city with its long buried secrets? "Blast, blast, and blast!" muttered Ivy as she considered their options. Well, there was no way to go back, and whatever way that the bugbears or other creatures had entered, that had to lead to the outside. Get her above ground and in the open air, and she could work out a strategy. Or let her find the foundation of Tsurlagol's current western wall and she would topple it with great pleasure.

"Is there a problem?" As usual, Sanval's tone was courteous and pitched low enough to be discreet.

"Problem?" Ivy gave an exaggerated roll of her shoulders. "No problem at all! Just thinking about the best way to bring down that wall. A good spell blast, maybe."

"Ivy, we found something!" Zuzzara's bellow echoed through the long, narrow tunnel. An open doorway was carved into the wall. To enter the dark room beyond, they had to step up over a broad stone threshold. From the other side, the Siegebreakers could see the lintel of the door was carved with a procession of men and horses, dragging wagons full of jars behind them. The flare of Zuzzara's torch and the light of Mumchance's lantern revealed a long, narrow room with niches carved into the walls, filling the space from floor to ceiling. Neatly piled bones, three or four skulls resting on the top of each pile, occupied each niche.

"Funeral procession," said Mumchance, glancing up at the carving on the lintel. The carved parade continued across the ceiling, and small flecks of old paint brightened the ribbons carved around the spokes of the cartwheels and in the horses' manes.

"We are in an ossuary," said Sanval. "We have these in Procampur too. The dead are taken below the streets once their bodies are burned."

"That is what I love about being underground," said Ivy, "the wonderful things that you get to see, like other people's graveyards."

"Look at all the names on the wall," said Gunderal, going from niche to niche. "I can read them; this writing is not that old. There are whole families in some of these niches: mother, father, children."

"Not here," said Zuzzara, pausing before another niche. This one had a smaller pile of bones than the others, and only one skull rested on top. The skull looked a little lonely, Ivy thought. Gunderal leaned against her sister's shoulder and recited the epitaph inscribed upon the wall, her voice growing softer and sadder with each line.

"As for the name of this warrior, I do not know it,

Nor do I know from what place he came.

But he rode to our walls,

With his banner displayed and flying in the wind.

At his boasting, the defenders drew their blades.

We could not resist from beginning the battle.

Four fellows caught him and beat upon him,

Each stroke like a hammer upon an anvil.

His armor split to reveal the treasure beneath.

The wizards stole his gem, as they steal all.

When he died, the ground was hard with hoar-frost.

So we burned his body to keep him warm,

And stored his bones among our dead.

But his name we never learned,

And his family mourns unknowing."

When Gunderal finished, even Zuzzara gave a little sniff and knuckled her eyes. Mumchance cleared his throat and rubbed Wiggles's ears. The little dog licked his hand.

Ivy just shrugged. She would not let such a memorial affect her. "So died a mercenary. Unknown, unnamed," she said.

Sanval gave her a peculiar look, almost sympathetic. Ivy ignored him. "I wonder what his treasure was."

"Probably meant that they cut out his heart," said Mumchance.

"I do not think it was his heart," said Gunderal. "Wizards would not have much use for that." She brushed an errant curl back behind her ear, tilting her head to one side in puzzlement. "There's something else here. Some runes below the bones, like the ones back in the mosaic. See that one"-she tapped the symbol with one shell pink nail-"is almost the same as the one written near the big jewel carried by that wizard toppling towers in the picture."

Distracted by a clattering sound, Ivy whipped around to see Kid poking through another pile of bones. She snapped an order at him. "Get away from that!"

Kid just gave her one of his pointed smiles and said, "No magic here, my dear. No spells. Just dead, cold dead, in their little pots and niches." He trotted back to where they stood. He leaned very close to the wall to study the peculiar runes pointed out by Gunderal. "Beautiful Gunderal is right. These are the same as the ones written in the mosaic. Jewels-these marks may mean jewels. And there are footprints below the niche that are the five that we tracked before. Looking for something, but finding nothing, I think." Something about the lone pile of bones discovered by the sisters intrigued him. Kid stuck his long, black-nailed fingers into the pile of bones before them, shifting the skull out of his way as he felt around the niche.

"I swear if you stir up another pathetic skeleton to attack us, I'm leaving you behind," exclaimed Ivy.

"Do skeletons attack him often?" asked Sanval, remembering the lurching collection of bones in the hall of ash.

"With depressing regularity," Ivy replied. "Skeletons, animated corpses, crawling hands of the undead. There's something about him. Like honey to bears. Get away from those bones! We don't have time, and there is nothing there for you to steal!" Ivy suddenly could not bear to see the lonely mercenary disturbed again. Eventually, everyone should be allowed some peace and rest. She reached out and smacked Kid not too gently across his bottom.

"I go, I go," bleated Kid in mock terror, skipping out of her reach. "See how swift I run. Can you catch me, my dears?"

Rounding a corner at a quick trot, Kid almost smashed his nose on the stone wall that blocked the tunnel ahead. Ivy swore. They had reached a dead end.

"Just need to find the handle," said Mumchance, running his hands over the smooth marble wall. "It must open. They did not walk through solid stone."

Gunderal nodded and passed her hands over the wall as well, making ladylike sniffs, as she tried to divine what type of lock might hold the door closed.

"So who do you think is down here?" Sanval asked Ivy as the pair in front of them tried to open the secret door.

"Treasure hunters, most likely, and not from Procampur's side of the wall," Ivy admitted with as much candor as she could spare. She was not going to mention her worries about possible stray troops from Fottergrim's horde. That would be enough to send Sanval dashing off in the darkness to save the day and probably get himself killed. "You have camels but no bugbears among your mercenaries. It could be deserters, which would be an encouraging sign, but you would think that they would be carrying more gear with them."

"Why are deserters a good sign?"

"Now you want to chat? When we are in a hole in the ground with no clear way out?"

"Do you have something else to do? Just now?" And the man even made his comments sound reasonable, much to Ivy's disgust.

Mumchance muttered something about missing his good pick and gestured Zuzzara to come forward. He took her shovel and tried to wedge the blade under the secret door. Ivy and Sanval moved farther back down the tunnel to give them room to work.

"Why are deserters a good sign?" When Sanval wanted to talk, he evidently wanted to talk.

"Because you don't desert if you think you're going to win. You leave when the food starts running low, or the water runs out, or the guy in charge turns out to be a raving lunatic with delusions of immortality and world conquest. Which happens far more frequently than you would think sensible. Look at Fottergrim."

"World conquest?"

"Well, no, not since the Black Horde was destroyed. But why be such an idiot orc and seize a city? Especially such a city with such a history of bad luck. No one has ever managed to hold onto Tsurlagol. Wandering here and there in the hills, he could survive. Raid a town for a day, carry away the chickens and children, that I can understand." Sanval gave her one of those straight down the nose looks that were a specialty of his. "Not approve, mind you, but understand."

"About the chickens?" His tone was exceptionally dry.

"And the children. An orc has to eat, and he has to have somebody to wash out his laundry. A moving horde like Fottergrim's needs slaves to do all the tasks that fighters think are so far beneath them."

"Laundry."

"Cooking, digging latrines, washing socks. Even if you only change your socks once a year, it is nice to have a clean, dry pair."

"So why not take a city and enslave its citizens?"

"Because it is too big. Somebody is sure to object, like Procampur, and knock the walls down and take it back. It is strange. Fottergrim has been unusually clever for an orc these past ten years. It is almost as if someone talked him into taking the city. Or he was seized by divine madness. And I will bet you my nonexistent lunch and unlikely dinner, he is up on the walls right now, regretting that he ever invaded Tsurlagol."

"So you think we can win the siege," persisted Sanval.

"Certainly hope so," replied Ivy, trying for a nonchalant tone to impress him. "Because we don't get paid unless Procampur wins. So I would like to bring a wall down before I leave for better places. And nothing is getting done by standing here!"

The last was pitched much louder and Mumchance responded with, "We're trying, Ivy." The dwarf dropped to his hands and knees, sniffing along the floor like a hunting hound, obviously trying to scent some stray draft blowing under the door that might reveal an opening. Wiggles ran around him, occasionally giving the dwarf's red nose a big lick. "Get away, sweetheart," muttered Mumchance at the dog. "Let me do my work."

"Perhaps Enguerrand can succeed without your help," suggested Sanval. He probably meant his words as a kindness, but that statement pricked Ivy's pride.

"Give me pike dwarfs and gnome archers, and I can topple any cavalry charge," said Ivy. "And Fottergrim has much more than that."

"Pikes and arrows would not work against such trained cavalry as Enguerrand leads," stated Sanval with calm conviction.

"Does. Did. That's how I met Mumchance," said Ivy.

Sanval cocked an eyebrow.

"In the mud, pinned under a horse, having been on the wrong end of the charge," explained Ivy. "Terrible day, rain pouring down, fresh plowed field all gone to muck. But there were these dwarves and gnomes. Just standing there. Waiting for us. They looked so very short from where we were sitting on top of our great big chargers. So the trumpets sound, the drums beat, and we go racing up hill in full armor in the stupidest charge in the history of horse-mounted warfare. I was one of the lucky ones. The arrows got my horse, and it rolled over on me. That horse's death saved me from being spit on the pikes. Also I fell face up, rather than face down, so I didn't drown in the mud."

"How old were you?" said Sanval.

"Fifteen and foolish at that age, like all young humans," said Mumchance standing up and brushing off his knees. He hooked his little hammer out of his belt and began tapping on the door, pressing one ear against the stone to listen for echoes. With a roll of his good eye toward Ivy, he added, "But she was politer than most."

"Keep working," said Ivy. "You don't have time to gossip." To Sanval, she said, "My mother taught me court courtesy."

"Really?" said Sanval, clearly remembering the song about the red-roof girls and a few other comments.

"Oh, I can speak like a lady when I need to," said Ivy with a blush. She remembered the song too. It lacked elegance. Any Procampur court lady would swoon at the first verse alone, and it was probably just as well that she'd stopped before she'd gotten to the last lyric, because that might have caused a few of the more squeamish Procampur gentlemen to faint too. That boy in the Forty had been extremely pink in the face when she had passed him in front of the Thultyrl's tent. "And my father was a druid who taught me how to keep my mouth shut. The elves used to call him the Silent Walker. For example, he would never interrupt a good story halfway through. It was one of the things my mother liked best about him whenever his silence wasn't driving her crazy."

Sanval did not say anything.

"My manners saved my life," Ivy continued. "There I was, pinned under a dead horse, with this dwarf sitting on top and asking me what I thought I was doing there. I told him the truth. I absolutely didn't know why I was fighting that war, but I would appreciate a little help."

"So I dug her out and dried her off. By then the girls' father had disappeared, and their mothers were gone, and I thought I could use a little extra help at the farm." Mumchance pushed Zuzzara's shovel's edge against the bottom of the stone door. Scraping sounds, the high-pitched kind that made the back of Ivy's teeth hurt, filled the tunnel and caused the others to retreat a few steps. With a grunt, Mumchance pulled the shovel out from under the door and returned it to Zuzzara. "Well, that didn't work. Gunderal, any luck?"

Gunderal muttered something that sounded terribly close to a swear word. Zuzzara looked slightly shocked; Zuzzara's mother had never let her use language like that! But, being a water genasi, Gunderal's mother had possessed a very salty tongue when she was angry. Gunderal's vocabulary was far less delicate than her looks.

"There is a lock, a magical lock," muttered Gunderal. "I am sure of it. But it is on the other side of the door, and I can't tell you anything more."

"It was the most miserable little war. Neither of us could see any reason to stay," Ivy continued talking to Sanval. She never had any luck with magic doors. If Gunderal and Mumchance could not open it, they would have to go back. She kept chattering to distract herself from screaming in frustration. "So we deserted, Mumchance and I. It was the sensible thing to do."

"And this war?" asked Sanval with more than polite curiosity.

"Oh, as miserable as the rest," said Mumchance, still staring at the door. The dwarf frowned, the lines crossing his forehead deepening, and the scars across his face more pronounced than ever. With the iron clad toe of his boot, he softly kicked the obstacle facing him-a straight line across the bottom of the door, clang, clang, clang-but nothing rattled or echoed in the stone door. "But war pays our bills. That is why mercenaries fight, boy. For the money. Not honor, not glory, not history. For loot. Well, except for the odd bad one…"

"The ones that fight because they like it," said Ivy. "And before you ask, we are the good kind of mercenary. The ones who care most for gold."

Sanval did not look reassured.

"So why do you fight?" she asked.

"Because I am a noble of Procampur, pledged to the service of the Thultyrl. And he is a good king, the wisest we have had for some time. But even if he were the worst of tyrants, I would still answer his call. My family has always served the Thultyrl."

"What sort of family do you have?"

Sanval frowned. "None now, but I come from people who do their duty. My parents did as their families asked. They were betrothed in their cradles and married at the most auspicious time determined by their parents."

"And were they happy?"

"I do not know," admitted Sanval. "I never saw them except at formal gatherings. We send our children to the schools for those of our district, to be raised together by approved tutors. Like most boys, I seldom left my dormitory until I came of age, and by then my parents had perished from the same fever that killed the old Thultyrl."

Ivy grinned at him. "Bet you never thought your path would drop you underground with a bunch of mercenaries unsuccessfully trying to break through a door." The last sentence was made directly to the dwarf still kicking the door in front of her.

"Maybe a counterweight, above the door," speculated Mumchance, ignoring Ivy. "Hey, Zuzzara, give me a boost up.

Zuzzara grabbed the dwarf around the waist and lifted him to her shoulders. His head rapped smartly on the stone ceiling. "Sorry," said Zuzzara with a grunt as she adjusted the dwarf's feet on her shoulders.

"No," said Mumchance feeling along the lintel. "Nothing here. Let me down. Gently! Gently!"

Zuzzara caught him as he flipped off her shoulders and just prevented him from landing headfirst on the floor. Kid snickered, and even Gunderal looked a little less depressed.

After several more attempts to get the door to open, they declared themselves defeated. Mumchance admitted that without the exact knowledge of how the door locked and unlocked, they could not open it.

Gunderal, in particular, was very upset by her failure after having such recent improvement with the phantom fungus. Zuzzara told her sister not to worry, that her spells would come back soon.

"Like you would know anything about magic," said Gunderal with a tearful sniff. She fumbled a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed her eyes.

"I know nothing about magic," admitted Zuzzara with one of her deep chuckles and a pat on the back that caused Gunderal to stumble. Ever since Gunderal had managed at least the frost spell against the animated fungus, Zuzzara had cheered up. She no longer suggested carrying her little sister or whispered to Ivy about the possibilities of blood poisoning developing from a sprained arm. "But I know you, little sister. You may be pretty, but you are not dumb."

It was the start of an old family joke, and Gunderal giggled. "And big and ugly doesn't mean you're stupid."

"Unless you fall down on the way to the outhouse." Zuzzara added the obscure punchline that Ivy had never understood.

Gunderal started laughing so hard that she had to stop to mop the streaming tears out of her eyes.

"Sisters," moaned Ivy. "I will never, ever, campaign with sisters again!"

"You say that every time," said Mumchance. "Hurry up, you two. No point standing around here now."

As he turned, he bumped into Ivy, who stumbled and thrust out her left hand to catch herself. As she fell against the wall, she felt a stone shift beneath her gloved hand. A grating sound came from the floor beneath them, and the entire room shook.

"Earthquake?" asked Sanval in a calm but resigned tone, as he kept his balance on the shifting stone.

"Wizard work," shouted Mumchance over the crunch of rock sliding over rock. The whole room lurched to the left and bumped to a stop. A new door opened in front of them, with a black corridor running before them. The stone door behind them and the entrance to the ossuary before them had disappeared.

"Shifting passage," grumbled Mumchance. "Sort of stupid thing that wizards put in for short cuts."

"Well," said Ivy, still determined to be optimistic, "perhaps this leads straight outside."

"Did you suspect such a possibility?" Sanval asked Mumchance.

"I suspect everything, but that never finds the key to a shifting passage. Only a truly lucky or miserably unlucky accident does that," the dwarf complained and stamped ahead of them through the opening.

"And which kind of accident is this, my dear?" speculated Kid with a soft laugh at the dwarf's grumbling.

"Won't know until we get there," said Mumchance over his shoulder. "Come on, Wiggles, hurry up." The little dog was lagging behind and seemed reluctant to enter the room. The dwarf whistled. Wiggles tucked her tail firmly between her legs and slunk into the passage behind him.

In the darkness far ahead of the Siegebreakers, the magelord hissed and stopped. He had felt something, like a cold draft across his spell-laden shoulders. The charms attached to his robe murmured to him, giving him advance warning of a new danger. Magic… Somebody or something had woken up an old magic in these tunnels.

"Fools." He peered back into the blackness outside the yellow light cast by the torches. Fottergrim had set trackers on his trail. He had known that the big orc would do that. Who knew what those idiots had stirred up? If only that foolish orc had done what he had told him to and stayed outside the walls of Tsurlagol, letting him explore these tunnels in peace. No, no, the big stupid oaf had to smash his way into the city and start a war!

The bugbears surrounding him shuffled their broad feet and voiced their complaints. They had been growing more obnoxious in their objections since they had had to abandon that one female bugbear. As if such a creature mattered to him! A quick snap of the fingers, and a quicker flash of fire lit up the tunnel, turning the bugbears' complaints to sullen but subdued snarls.

"We are being followed," he informed them. After all, it was the bugbears' job to guard him while he went about his business. He had already paid them a half-horse worth of nearly fresh meat that morning. And promised them more in the evening. "Be alert!"

But he decided not to rely on the bugbears alone-they were stupid creatures whose big muscles gave them their only worth in his estimation. Something else slithered through the ruins of buried Tsurlagol, something large and scaled and hungry.

With a few muttered words, and at the cost of only one charm, the magelord called the creature to him. At his feet was the big hole that they had just climbed out of. It was another dead end for his treasure hunt, but a perfect trap for anyone foolish enough to follow him.

The new tunnel led the Siegebreakers into another broad room, wider than the first. Like the ossuary, it contained bones-only these were strewn across the floor as well as piled into niches. At the sight and smell of the bones, Wiggles's ears went up. The little dog tentatively wagged her tail. Mumchance snatched at her collar to keep her from grabbing the nearest bone. While hauling Wiggles away, the dwarf noticed that there was one peculiarity about all the skeletons scattered across the floor.

"There are no heads," Mumchance said. "Where have all the skulls gone?"

"Burial rite?" guessed Ivy.

Kid advanced into the center of the room. He glanced at Ivy, waiting for her to tell him not to touch. When she said nothing, he stretched out one little hoof and stirred the bones. An odd grin of amusement spread across his face. "Perhaps someone took away the skulls for a collection, my dears, or to roll them through the ruins for their pleasure."

"There's something evil here," said Gunderal with a shiver at the little thief's suggestions. "I can feel it." She passed Kid, going into the center of the room and looking right and left. "There's something hiding here. I know it."

Gunderal peered into the shadowy niches lining the walls, with Zuzzara following directly behind her.

"Let's just get out of here," suggested Ivy.

"No," Gunderal almost snapped at her. "We have to find it first. If we try to pass before we find it, we'll end up like those skeletons."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I am a wizard," said Gunderal with more force than normal. "Evil was done here."

"Come on, Gunderal," said her sister. "You are just nervous. It has been a bad day."

The wizard heaved a sigh. "Don't tell me what I'm feeling. This is what I am good at, sensing magic, just as you are good at hitting things." Gunderal moved back to the center of the room. Rather than skipping lightly around the bones on the floor, as she would normally do, she kicked her way through a rib cage, sending bits rolling off to one side. "Show yourself. I know you are there," she said.

Everyone looked at Gunderal, then looked around the room, not asking to whom she spoke. She was a wizard, and they respected that. Still, they had never seen her talk to a pile of bones before. When a thin, strange voice answered her, they all became motionless. Ivy liked to think that standing frozen like a statue in the marketplace was a sign of alertness on her part, never fear. She glanced at Sanval. As always when faced with danger, his face was as frozen as the farm pond in midwinter. But he did give the tiniest shrug of inquiry. Ivy raised her eyebrows and shook her head when he started to move forward. She trusted Gunderal's instincts. The little genasi had gotten them out of more than one magical trap. Besides, from the way that Kid's ears were swiveling back and forth in nervous agitation, she was sure that he felt something peculiar in the room too.

A voice said, "The wizard is clever. Very clever. But is the wizard clever enough to best me?"

In an unnoticed niche, a soft green glow began to brighten. As it floated out into the room, they saw the light was a human skull surrounded by a jagged green flame that ringed it much like a lion's head is ringed by its mane. Its eyes glittered, points of green fire. The light increased and reflected off the walls, turning the room into a flickering green grotto.

"All heads belong to me," said the flameskull, apparently untroubled by its lack of a body. The thing had no lips, no flesh at all, just clean jawbones clacking away. Unfortunately, it did have a few teeth-brown and half-rotted-that wobbled in a disgusting manner when it spoke. "They told me that when they left me here."

"And who would they be?" Gunderal sounded as if she were making pleasant conversation in her own parlor, but she waved her uninjured hand frantically behind her back, gesturing to the others to gather closer to her.

"My two friends, my two fond friends, my two cherished dead friends," said the flameskull, floating effortlessly in front of Gunderal. "We had heard that Tsurlagol had fallen and all its treasures were buried in its ruins. So we came to dig them out again. We were wizards too-not insignificant spellcasters or mountebanks, but masters of magnificent magic. We came looking for the glittering gems and the great diamond buried with them."

"Any luck?" Ivy could not resist asking even as Gunderal made shushing motions.

For a creature with no face, it was amazingly clear that the flameskull had settled into a sulk. Ivy guessed it had something to do with how the flames writhed in the eyesockets and the tone of voice issuing from its mouth. "They left me behind," it said with a distinct snarl. "They left me behind and told me to take the skulls of any who followed us. But I cursed them both even as they chopped off my head and arms and hid my body in the ruins."

"There's nothing worse than an argument among thieves, my dear," said Kid in a tone laden with bitter experience. "Especially when they are magical thieves."

"They left me behind," the skull repeated. The flames around the bony head died down a little, as if depression dampened the creature's fire.

"Obviously not the best of friends," said Ivy, hoping to keep the skull talking, because she could see that Gunderal was about to cast some type of spell. "I wouldn't do what they told me to do. Especially if they cut off my head before they told me."

"Huh! As if I have a choice," snapped the skull with a click of its rotted teeth. His flames brightened to a wide halo of green fire around his head. "They have been dead and gone for a generation or more! I am still here! And all have to pay toll to me. Pay me in skulls! Or rot as they rotted!" The creature's voice rose in anger, its fiery halo brightened, and two bolts of flame shot from its eyesockets.

Before the fire could touch anyone, Gunderal raised a wall of water between the Siegebreakers and the flameskull. The flames licked out in pointed flickers, tossing a spray of green sparks. They hit the water wall and hissed, spat, and sizzled. The wall shimmered green, and then the flames extinguished themselves in the water.

"Well done, wizard," said the flameskull. "Quite well done. But what will you do now? Remember, whoever collects the most heads wins. And that is always me, me, me!"

"Cheeky thing for a dead head," said Mumchance.

"Does your game have rules?" Ivy shouted at the flameskull, hoping to keep it talking and distract it from flinging more flame spells at them. Gunderal's wall of water looked very wobbly, and Ivy suspected the spell was not too stable.

"You've got to smash it," Gunderal muttered to Ivy, confirming her worst fears. "Quickly. The wall won't hold."

"It moves pretty fast," Ivy said. The flameskull was zipping back and forth, trying to find a way around the wall, but it was also keeping away from the water. It appeared to not want to get wet.

"I can hit it," said Sanval, sliding his sword out of his scabbard. "Should I jump through the wall?"

"No!" they all yelled. "That will just make the wall disappear!" All the Siegebreakers knew the basic mechanics of Gunderal's spell. They had used the wall of water many times before to shelter from some flame or other, even from fires that they had started themselves.

"I can make you faster," said Gunderal to Sanval, "but I need to drop the water wall. I can't do two spells at the same time." Already the wall was becoming misty around the edges as the water started to fade away. The flameskull bobbed closer, obviously trying to listen to their conversation. It tilted its bony head, and odd sparks shot from its eye sockets.

Zuzzara shifted so she was nearer to her sister. "I'll protect you while you're casting your spell," she said to Gunderal, "but be quick, little sister, be quick."

"Drop the wall, Gunderal," commanded Ivy. "We'll scatter and try to divert its attack. Sanval, you'd better crush that thing on the first try!"

The wall vanished, and Ivy flung herself directly under the skull, sliding on her stomach through the bones on the floor. As she had intended, the flameskull spun in place, turning itself upside down as it tried to track her movements. A bolt of energy from the skull's mouth whizzed by her ear and extinguished itself in the floor beside her.

Zuzzara swung with her shovel at the back of the flameskull at the same time that Ivy flung herself under the floating flaming head. The half-orc missed, the flameskull shooting up toward the ceiling too quickly for her to connect with. The flameskull twisted around, trying to hit her with blasts of energy. The mane of flame whipped around the skull, long green tendrils hissing through the air. Again, with a howl of frustration, the skull's energy bolt undershot its target as Zuzzara grabbed her sister around the waist and leaped out of the way.

Gunderal let out a little squeak as the two of them rolled across the floor, outside the flameskull's range. "Let me down. Sanval, get over here," the wizard called.

"Missed, missed, missed with your missile," yelled Kid, cartwheeling around the skull, which had zipped lower again in an attempt to hit Ivy with a whip of fire. His hooves clicked on the floor, then spun in the air close to the skull as he went into a handstand. The flameskull blasted upward with a whistling screech, dived in a wide arc over Kid's flailing hooves, and aimed itself again at Ivy. In desperation, Ivy grabbed an old shinbone off the floor and lobbed it with her left hand at the skull. One end knocked against the flameskull's bony pate. The skull hit the floor with a thud and rolled to a dazed stop, then slowly drifted upward. Ivy heard a sharp bark and a "No!" from Mumchance. Wiggles raced past her, barking wildly and dancing on her back paws, trying to catch the skull floating above her.

"Crazy dog!" yelled Ivy, grabbing for Wiggles's collar.

"That's a bad, old bone. You don't want that." She scooped the little dog up and tossed Wiggles to Mumchance. The dwarf caught Wiggles and dropped her behind him.

"Stay!" said Mumchance sternly in Dwarvish. Wiggles folded her ears back and dropped to a crouch. She kept giving out eager little whines as she watched the flameskull bounce and dip around the room. The little dog started to crawl forward on her front legs, rump high in the air and fluffy tail wagging madly.

"No!" said Mumchance again in Dwarvish. "Bad dog! Settle!" He picked up a collarbone from the floor and chucked it with a big overhand throw at the flameskull. The undead head bounced out of the way with a jeer.

"Can't hit me!" yelled the flameskull and spat another ball of sparks at the dwarf. Mumchance skipped to one side with the lightness of a dwarf half his age, Wiggles dancing at his heels.

Kid spun around the flameskull, flipping and cartwheeling to confuse the creature. With one big spin, he managed to clip it with the edge of one hoof, shoving it back against the stone wall. "You cannot catch us. We are too quick for an old cracked head like you!" he said.

A spray of green sparks zoomed past Kid. Several settled on the toe of one of Sanval's boots. The smell of burnt polish and leather filled the air. Glaring at the boot, Sanval rubbed the damaged toe against the back of the opposite shin, then glared again as he stamped down his foot. A large scorch mark marred the shiny polished surface of the toe.

"That does it," he muttered. "Get me there, wizard!"

Sanval slid into place next to Gunderal. With a quickly whispered spell, she slapped Sanval hard between the shoulders, shouting, "Go, go!"

Screaming, the skull dived after Kid, spreading a trail of green fire and ignoring Sanval, who charged after it. With magically enhanced speed, Sanval swung his sword down on the skull. The brittle bone shattered, scattering pieces around the room.

It had only taken a few moments. As quickly as the threat had appeared, it was gone. Ivy sat at the edge of the room, shaking her head. "Well, that was fun, I think. Good work, Gunderal."

"Oh dear," said Gunderal, pointing at the shattered bits of skull scattered through the other bones. Tendrils of green flame were sprouting from each separate piece of the skull. As they all watched, the pale green flames twisted across the room, reaching for each other. "We should leave now."

"Isn't it dead?" asked Sanval, straightening his helmet after he sheathed his sword.

"It was always dead," explained Gunderal, pushing them toward the archway at the opposite end of the room. "But it is one of those dead things that can put itself back together again."

"I hate those types of dead things," grumbled Mumchance.

"Dead should stay dead," added Zuzzara, picking up the torch and shovel that she had dropped when she grabbed Gunderal. She thrust the shovel, handle straight down, through her belt and raised the still-lit torch high to illuminate the exit.

"I could not agree more," said Kid, skipping back and forth and watching how the green flames tended to bend toward him whenever he passed too close. "But perhaps we can break this spell." He reached down and scooped up one rotten molar that had been knocked out of the flameskull's jaw. Kid tucked it into one of the many pouches dangling from his belt.

"Ugh, that is one terrible souvenir," commented Zuzzara as they left the room. "Kid, you should leave it be."

"No, he should take it," said Gunderal. "Such guardians can rarely reassemble themselves if you take away a piece."

"Hope you're right, little sister," said Zuzzara. "That thing nearly burned my britches."

"Of course, I'm right. I told you. Trust me, I know magic."

Beyond the room containing the flameskull was a swift, hidden passage back to the place where they fought the phantom fungus. Once they reached that room, the Siegebreakers would have no choice but to follow the northern passageway that Sanval had wanted to take in the first place-the one that sent them on the trail of the other party in the ruins and, possibly, a troop of Fottergrim's raiders. Ivy thought that Sanval looked smug, but when he caught her staring his face smoothed into that irritating bland look that he was so very good at.

"Gunderal seems pleased," said Ivy to Mumchance, watching the little wizard walking in front of them. Although she still cradled her injured arm, the wizard held her head straight, and her long black hair bounced on her shoulders, free at last from its confining top-knot.

"Yes," said Mumchance, but there was no elation in his voice.

"What is wrong?"

"Not all her spells worked," Mumchance replied with a frown. "She couldn't throw a decent frost, that wall of water nearly collapsed, and she should have been quicker with slapping that last spell on Sanval. That trick should have been easier for her. And, Ivy, we may need more from her before we are out of here. The river is going to worm its way into these tunnels. I just know it. And the only one of us that has any control over water is Gunderal. But if she has no control over her magic, then we are sunk-way down in the mud sunk."

"You worry too much," said Ivy. Gunderal had been slow in the fight-Ivy had never seen her more unsure when casting a spell-but she was not going to give the dwarf the satisfaction of agreeing with his gloomy prognostication. After all, she was the captain of this little company, and a captain should be optimistic even when she was stuck up to her hips in a mucky situation with only one shovel to dig herself out. She tried to cheer the dwarf up. "After we got away from the river bank, it's been bone dry, even in the ossuary!"

"Make jokes if you want. But it doesn't feel dry to me. Just you wait and see."

As they entered the baths, the smell of the dead phantom fungus assaulted their noses. Mumchance glanced down into the dry pool with the mosaic bottom, shifting his head so he was staring straight down with his good eye. He cursed-quiet little curses that made Wiggles whine-and waved his lantern over the edge of the pool. Dry dust had become slimy mud, and water clearly shone in the light of the torch.

"The river is rising," Mumchance said, "and the water is running through the old pipes that fed the bath."

"Well, that's something less than wonderful," observed Ivy before Mumchance could say anything more and upset everyone. Nobody needed to hear "I told you so" right now, most especially her.

But Ivy was more worried than she let her friends see. The water was rising, and they still had no idea how to get out of the ruins of Tsurlagol. Ivy feared they might have to swim to make it out.