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"I wonder if this is one of Orander's rings," Ripple said, reaching in her pouch. She pulled out one that exactly resembled the two Trap was holding. "I don't know how I came to have it but it looks like those." She handed it to Halmarain and leaned over to look at the ones her brother held. "I tried it on, but it didn't do anything, so maybe it came from somewhere else."

"No, it has Orander's mark, so it does something," the little wizard said as she gave it back. "I'll let you keep them for now, but take care of them. I think you'd better turn out your pouches and show me what else you took."

"Fine! I'll show you. And are you going to show us what's in your bag?" Ripple asked, her eyes flashing with anger over the insult.

The little wizard frowned, thought better of it and nodded. "Perhaps I'd better. Then, if you find one of my possessions, you'll know it belongs to me and give it back."

"You first," Ripple said. She had less patience with Halmarain's accusations than her brother.

"Very well. I'll show you what's in my bag and I warn you, none of my possessions should ever-" She shook her finger in the faces of the two kender. "-ever fall into your pouches."

The ragged little bag Halmarain habitually wore over her shoulder was deceptive. She carefully pulled out a stack of ten spellbooks, each one as large as the bag. A small purse, two outfits of clothing, an extra pair of boots, and a cloak followed.

"How do you get all that in a bag that's so small?" Trap asked.

"Wizard's have their secrets, even apprentices," she said as she continued to dig, her brows rose in surprise and dipped in a frown.

She upended the bag and out came a large pile of steel pieces, a wicked looking knife, and a pair of finely stitched gloves that were too large for her hands. The last item to fall out appeared to be a necklace made of thirty overlapping silver disks, each an inch and a half wide, fastened together with silver links. Each disk had been delicately engraved with pictures and dwarf runes.

She hurriedly pulled her clothing, boots, and spell-books away from the last items to fall from her bag, as if they might be contaminated by contact.

"These things aren't mine!" she insisted.

Chapter 19

Halmarain continued to deny any knowledge of the items, waving a hand to indicate the loose steel pieces, the knife, the gloves, and the necklace. She glared accusingly at the kender. They seemed so delighted with the gloves and the necklace that it soon became plain that they were seeing the items for the first time.

"You didn't put these things in my bag?"

"I'm sure I didn't," Ripple said. "You usually keep such a tight hold on it I don't think I could, and I've never seen these things. These gloves are beautiful. If they won't fit you, I'd really like to have them, if you gave them to me, that is."

"Of course, one steel piece looks like any other," Trap added, "But I'm sure I would remember this necklace. It's interesting-all these drawings on the disks." He picked it up before Halmarain could stop him. "Wonder if these runes and drawings are just ornamental or if they mean something special?"

Ripple scooted across the dirt floor to join her brother and they both inspected the finely worked drawings. The little wizard worried over how it came into her possession.

"I didn't take that necklace," she insisted. "I don't know how it got into my bag! By the Book of Gilean, I sound just like a kender!"

"Someone dropped it into your purse by mistake. We keep telling you that people are so careless with their belongings," Ripple answered absently, most of her attention still on the silver disks.

"They're always forgetting where they leave their stuff," Trap agreed.

"When did it get into my bag?" Halmarain's mind was off on another track. "It wasn't there when we left Deep-del. I repacked everything." Her eyes widened. "The only people we've been near since we left our rooms were the innkeeper and the dwarves. It wouldn't have belonged to the man in Deepdel. It looks as if it could have been dwarf made-that's why the dwarves are chasing us."

The kender were more interested in the string of disks than in the wizard's ruminations.

"We need more light." Trap looked suggestively at Halmarain's staff.

"No," the wizard answered, shaking her head and glancing toward the cave's entrance. "I don't know what I felt from that rider in the black cloak, but there was something strange. I don't want to use any magic right now. He might sense it and come back."

"Then I'll get us a light," Trap said, accepting her objections as reasonable. He jumped up and searched for the dwarf sparker that had found it's way into his pouch while he was in Deepdel.

A sparker was no good without wood to burn, so he gave the cave a quick scan. He was hampered by a number of roots hanging down from the ceiling. He touched one. It was dry and would make a good torch. A one handed tug was not sufficient to pull it free, so he tucked the sparker back into his pouch and used both hands. The root was stubborn so he jumped, grabbed it, and swung back and forth.

"I'll help," Ripple said. She gave a short leap and added her weight which was enough to dislodge the root, though not to pull free.

The root dropped three inches, bringing down a foot of earth from the ceiling.

"Oops!"

"What have you done?" Halmarain cried as she jumped to her feet.

"I was just trying to get that root to use as a torch," Trap began an explanation. He was interrupted as mud gushed from the hollow where part of the dry earth ceiling had been a moment before. He skipped to the side.

"It sure is wet up there," he announced. "I guess there must be a stream close by-"

A wail interrupted the kender. They turned to see the young merchesti scrambling to his feet while he wiped a glob of mud from his face. Before either of the kender or Halmarain could move, the kender's surmise was proven correct. A steady stream of water, well laden with mud, poured down from the ceiling.

"Cave fall in," Umpth announced as he stood looking up. A face full of mud was the reward for his wisdom.

"The ponies!" Ripple squealed and dashed for the back of the cave. Halmarain grabbed Beglug's arm and led the little fiend out onto the trail, pushing aside the camouflaging bush as she went. The kender tugged at the reins of the ponies, leading them toward the exit while the two gully dwarves trotted along behind them. A huge hunk of wet soil fell and knocked Grod off his feet. In seconds he was half buried in mud.

"Grod!" Umpth cried, alerting the kender, who dropped the reins of the animals and hurried back.

"Mud fall," Grod gasped, his bright blue eyes wide with fright. Umpth sent the wagon wheel sailing out the entrance to the cave. Then he turned and pulled on one of Grod's arms. Trap and Ripple hurried back and tugged at the gully dwarf's other arm.

More of the ceiling came down. It oozed around the legs of the kender and Umpth, completely covering Grod.

The kender and the gully dwarf stood knee deep in mud as they tugged at Grod. With a heave they brought his head out of the wet soil. As quickly as they could move, lifting one leg at a time-they couldn't wade through the thick sludge-they moved toward the entrance. They continued to pull at the smaller gully dwarf until he was free.

"Long arms now," Grod moaned as they hauled him out into the open. Behind them the cave fell in completely and the mud rolled out onto the mountain trail completely blocking their intended path.

Umpth retrieved his artifact while the rest stood in the pelting rain that quickly washed away the mud, but the storm frightened the already skittish ponies.