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"If you can get the destrachans away from their lair and destroy them while I retrieve my treasure, then I will lead you out of the ruins," promised Archlis. "Which is more than that gentleman can do." Not seeing too much enthusiasm on their faces, the magelord added, "And a reasonable fee. Gems or gold. Whichever you wish. But only if I retrieve my treasure."

Ivy pointed out that the odds of their success were not great, but she did not question whether Archlis would keep his promise. Sanval wondered at her ability to trust the skinny magelord's word. Perhaps Ivy had lied to him earlier, and she or one of the other Siegebreakers did have some magic concealed about her person that would protect her friends and defeat the creatures. After all, everyone knew that red-roof adventurers had all sorts of fantastic abilities, and maybe she was just intending to run away from the magelord as soon as she and the other Siegebreakers were out of sight.

But Archlis could not succeed in his mission and return to the walls of Tsurlagol. Sanval knew that it was his duty to stop Archlis, even if it took him away from Ivy. Besides being the right thing to do, it might also be the best way to help Ivy and her friends. If he fought Archlis, the rest could escape. He just had to pick the right time for his ambush.

"So," said Sanval to Osteroric. "You might have something worth trading for."

Osteroric bent closer to Sanval to listen to his whispered instructions. The bugbear pushed back his battered helmet and scratched his fuzzy head. He puckered his lips and blew out a long and stinking breath. "Hsssh," whistled Osteroric. "This could be big trouble for me. Bigger trouble for you. I wonder what Hackermic would have done… He was even smarter than Norimgic."

"Does that matter?" asked Sanval, loosening the straps on his breastplate.

"Not really," agreed Osteroric. "Hackermic is dead. We are not."

"Then we trade," said Sanval.

"Then we trade," said Osteroric. "But I think that you will end up the same as poor Hackermic."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"You have no choice," stated Archlis. "You're running out of time. Or didn't you notice the water tricking along the floor there?"

With some dismay, Ivy saw that Archlis was right. The telltale silver streaks of water caught the light of the torches. Right now, only little puddles formed along the crack between the wall and floor; but she knew there was more coming.

"Eventually the river will flood out these ruins," Archlis complained. "There must have been some storm in the mountains to bring this much water into the ruins so late in the summer."

Ivy decided not to enlighten Archlis about the true cause of the river's sudden rising. It probably would not improve their relationship. "So," she said. "Any last suggestions on how to draw those beasts out?"

"Walk forward until you are on the other side of my spell wall," Archlis said to Ivy. "Then start running. The destrachans will follow you. If you survive, follow us down that tunnel." He pointed to an arched and shadowed entrance. "And if you try to follow us now, I'll burn you where you stand."

"We will do what you asked. But you must keep your part of the bargain as well."

Archlis did not respond to her last comment. Instead, he suddenly grabbed Kid by one skinny arm. "The goat-boy stays with me," said Archlis. "I need his skills."

"That was not part of our bargain," Ivy said. She lunged for Kid, but Archlis pulled him out of her way. Zuzzara swung her shovel at the magelord, intent on breaking his hold on Kid. Rather than hitting Archlis, the shovel twisted in her hands and bounced back, striking her on the top of her head. Zuzzara sat down abruptly. Gunderal immediately raced to her sister's side, standing above the dazed half-orc, and raised her hands, her own injury forgotten.

"Do not even try, little genasi," said Archlis. "My charms make me immune to any and all magical attacks."

"At least my magic comes from me," snapped Gunderal. "It isn't stolen charms and looted trinkets."

Eyes narrowing at the insult, Archlis began to raise the Ankh. Ivy stepped between them. Chin out, gaze steady, she challenged Archlis, "Hurt her, and we turn back. You can play games with the destrachans on your own."

"An idle threat," returned the magelord, but he lowered the Ankh. "You have no hope of finding the way out. The tunnels will be flooded within the day. Help me, and you help yourselves. Once you have distracted the beasts, return to this chamber. I will come for you here."

"Go, my dears, go," said Kid, wiggling in the magelord's cruel grip. "I will see you again."

"Course you will, stupid," said Zuzzara, climbing shakily to her feet. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead, and she brushed it impatiently aside.

"If you hurt him, I will find a way around your charms. I promise," said Ivy. She could not bear to look at Kid. Stay together-that was the rule of her group, the most basic bond that bound them together, no matter how many tricks that fate played on them. For the last ten years, she had begun every day at the farm hearing the muffled sounds of her friends' voices echoing in her ears-all the little arguments and senseless jokes that old friends told each other. More recently, the click of Kid's hooves had been part of that. She did not know how she could return home and fall asleep each night without the comfort of knowing that they were all safely under one roof.

Whatever Archlis was going to reply was interrupted by a howl from Norimgic. The big bugbear was yelling something in Orcish at Archlis.

"What do you mean he's gone?" snapped the magelord. He glared at the two bugbears. Osteroric was now wearing Sanval's breastplate and sporting a "who me?" expression. "I was just trying it on," said Osteroric about his new armor. "And when I looked up, he wasn't here anymore!"

"So he did not dare stay and face the beasts." Archlis snorted. "You were right. He is not like the other nobles of Procampur. But he is also doomed. There is no way out of these ruins without my help. And to secure that, you must lead those creatures away from here."

Ivy hoped Sanval had a better plan than she did. Right now, the only thing that she could think about was running faster than those destrachans. And losing the big guy in armor was not going to make her life easier, especially if what she suspected were true. But no need to make Archlis nervous. Show a brave face-that was her mother's constant advice. Keep quiet and think-that was her father. Time to remember both those lessons.

"Let's go, then," said Ivy to the others. She plunged through the invisible wall that Archlis had raised between them and the destrachans' sensitive ears. She felt a magical prickle on her skin and then just nothing. The wall was gone. She looked back but could see nothing but the burning of the bugbears' torches behind her. Archlis stood watching, one hand gripping the Ankh tightly, the other hard on Kid's shoulder.

Standing directly under the hole created in the ceiling by the destrachans, Ivy could hear nothing. She could see nothing. But she knew that the monsters were out there, just waiting for them.

"Come on," she said, much quieter than she normally would. "Let's run!"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ivy doubted that Sanval had fled blindly into the dark. Silly, stupid man-she was sure that he was intent on some plan involving some great heroic deed that would get himself killed but save everyone else in the world. He was that sort. She'd known too many like him. Besides, hadn't he said something earlier about attacking Archlis on his own?

But, she was fairly certain that it just was not in his well-polished, honorable soul to do anything so ignoble as leave them defenseless. He must have thought that she could save the others by herself. He had obviously picked what he decided was the more dangerous target-Archlis-and decided to go it alone. Yes, that would be a Procampur type of reasoning. Ivy's own self-confidence bubbled up when she realized that Sanval's Procampur sense of protocol would not have let him abandon the Siegebreakers if he had thought they needed his protection. In a strange sort of way, he had just paid her a compliment. Now, if only she could pay it back-preferably by finding him later and shaking his head until she rattled some sense into his skull.