“Naughty, naughty!” piped the high voice. “Play with fire, you get burned! Play with fire, you get burned!”
Rhonin tipped his head to the side—cautiously at first, then more when he saw that his monstrous companion did not react. Near the entrance stood the wiry goblin Nekros had called Kryll, the same goblin that Rhonin knew also worked for Deathwing.
In fact, Kryll even now carried the medallion with the black crystal. The wizard marveled at the goblin’s arrogance. Surely Nekros would wonder why his minion still held on to Rhonin’s talisman.
Kryll noticed the direction of his gaze. “Master Nekros never saw you with it, human—and we goblins are always picking up trinkets!”
There had to be more to it, though. “He’s also too busy to notice, isn’t he?”
“Clever, human, clever! And if you told him, he wouldn’t listen! Poor, poor Master Nekros has much on his mind! Moving dragons and eggs is quite a chore, you know!”
The golem did not react at all to Kryll’s presence, which did not surprise Rhonin. Unless the goblin attempted to free the prisoner, it would leave Kryll alone.
“So you serve Deathwing . . .”
A frown momentarily escaped the creature. “His bidding I’ve done . . . yes. For very, very long . . .”
“Why’ve you come here? I’ve served your master’s purpose, haven’t I? I played his fool well, didn’t I?”
This, for some reason, cheered Kryll up again. His toothy smile wider than ever, he replied, “No greater fool could there have been, for you played one for more than the dark lord. Played you one for me, too, human!”
Rhonin could scarce believe him. “How did I do that? In what way did I serve you, goblin?”
“In much the same, much the same, as you did the dark lord—who thinks a goblin so low as to serve any master without reason of his own!” A hint of what had to be bitterness escaped Kryll. “But I’ve served enough, I have!”
Rhonin frowned. Could the mad little creature mean what the wizard thought he meant? “You plan to betray even the dragon? How?”
The grotesque goblin fairly hopped in glee. “Poor, poor Master Nekros is in such a state! Dragons to move, eggs to move, and stinking orcs to march around! Little time to think if that’s what others actually want him to do! Might’ve thought more, but now that the Alliance surely invades from the west, can’t be bothered! Has to act! Has to be an orc, you know!”
“You’re not making any sense. . . .”
“Fool!” More laughter from the goblin. “You brought me this!” He held up the medallion, then gave Rhonin a false frown. “Broken in fall—so Lord Deathwing thinks!”
As the prisoner watched, Kryll began peeling away at the stone in the center. After a few moments of effort, the gem popped out into the wiry goblin’s hand. He held it up for Rhonin to see. “And with it—no more Deathwing. . . .”
Rhonin could scarcely believe him. “No more Deathwing? You hope to use that stone to bring him down?”
“Or make him serve Kryll! Yes, perhaps he shall serve me.” An exhalation of pure hatred escaped Kryll. “. . . and no more toadying for the reptile! No more being his lackey! I planned long and hard for this, I did, waiting and waiting and watching for when he’ll be most vulnerable, yes!”
Fascinated despite himself, the captured spellcaster blurted, “But how?”
Kryll backed toward the entrance. “Nekros will provide the way, not that he knows . . . and this?” He tossed the stone into the air, then caught it again. “It is a part of the dark lord, human! A scale turned to stone by his own magic! It must be so for the medallion to work! You know what it means to hold a part of a dragon?”
Rhonin’s thoughts raced. What had he once heard? “‘To bear some bit of the greatest of the leviathans is to have a hold on their power.’ But that’s never been done! You need tremendous magic yourself to make it work! Where—”
The golem reacted to his sudden agitation. The ghoulish jaws opened and the skeletal hand started to reach for Rhonin. The wizard immediately froze, not even breathing.
The fiery form paused, but did not withdraw. Rhonin continued to hold his breath, praying that the monstrosity would back away.
Kryll chuckled at his predicament. “But you’re busy now, human! So sorry to overstay! Wanted to tell someone of my glory—someone who’ll be dead soon enough, eh?” The goblin hopped away. “Must go! Nekros will need my guidance again, yes, he will!”
Rhonin could hold his breath no longer. He exhaled, hoping that his hesitation had been enough.
A mistake.
The golem reached for him—and all thought of the traitorous little Kryll vanished as the fires once more consumed Rhonin from within.
Darkness came all too slowly and yet in some ways too quickly for Vereesa. As Krasus had directed, she had told no one about the medallion’s purpose and, at further urging from Rom, had secreted it as best she could within her garments. Her travel cloak, well-worn by this point, had managed to obscure it for the most part, although anyone who looked closely would have at least been able to make out the chain.
Shortly after their return to the party, Rom had taken Gimmel aside and spoken with him. The elf had noticed both briefly look her way. Rom evidently wanted his second to also know of Krasus’s decision and, judging by the other dwarf’s falling expression, Gimmel had not liked it any more than his chieftain.
The moment the light through the hole vanished, the dwarves began to methodically remove the stones. Vereesa saw no reason why this rock or that one had to be taken away before another, but Rom’s people were adamant. She finally settled back, trying not to think of all the time wasted.
As the last of the stones were removed, the wizard’s voice, sounding oddly haggard at first, echoed in her head.
The way out . . . is it open, Vereesa Windrunner?
She had to turn away and pretend to cough in order to mumble, “Just finished.”
Then you may proceed. Once outside, remove the talisman from wherever it is you have hidden it. That will enable me to see what lies ahead. I will speak no more until you and the Aerie dwarf are out of the tunnels.
As she turned back, Falstad came up to her. “You ready, my elven lady? The hill dwarves want to be rid of us quickly, seems to me.”
In fact, Rom stood by the entrance even now, his dimly seen form impatiently gesturing for the pair to climb out into the open. Vereesa and Falstad hurried past him, picking their way up to the widened hole as best they could. The ranger’s foot slipped once, but she managed to regain her ground. Above her, the wind beckoned her on. She had no love for the underworld and hoped that circumstances would not send her back there soon.
Falstad, who had reached the top first, now extended a strong hand to help her up. With easy effort, he lifted her high, then set her standing next to him.
The instant the two exited, the dwarves began filling up the hole. It dwindled rapidly inside even as Vereesa got her bearings.
“So what do we do now?” asked Falstad. “Climb up that?”
He indicated the base of the mountain, even in the dark of night clearly a sheer rock face for the first several hundred feet up. Try as she might, the elf could not see any immediate opening, which puzzled her. Rom had led her to believe that they would see it almost immediately.
She turned to call down to him, only to discover that barely any sign of the hole remained. Vereesa knelt, then put an ear by the small gap. She could hear nothing at all.
“Forget them, my elven lady. They’ve gone back into hiding.” Falstad’s tone revealed a hint of contempt for his hill cousins.
Nodding, the elf finally recalled Krasus’s instructions. Pulling her cloak aside, she removed the medallion from hiding, placing it squarely on her chest. Vereesa assumed that the wizard would be able to see in the dark, else he would be of little aid to them now.