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"You want to wait until after midnight." Rozt'a saw through Druhallen's caution. "You want to change your mind."

"I'd feel safer with different spells. You'd be safer."

Dru withered a little in their disappointment and when Rozt'a suggested that she could follow the goblin as he searched for a way into the mines that didn't expose them to scrutiny, he agreed even though a part of him felt that they shouldn't be splitting up.

There were more mysteries in Dekanter than a man could count, starting with ancient Netheril and working forward in time to the Beast Lord and the real reason Amarandaris and the Black Network had pulled their slave market out of this place. If he'd had the time, the magic, and the muscle, Dru would have liked to unravel a few of those mysteries. Lacking all those things, he easily stifled his curiosity and hoped only to escape with the golden scroll.

He returned to the horses and Tiep, scouting campsites along the way.

"You and I make the night's camp," he told the youth when they were together. "Rozt'a's gone off with the goblin to find tomorrow's way in. I spotted a blind gully with runoff pool. If we can get the horses in, they'll have plenty of water and won't go wandering. We'll take them in one at a time. You grab Hopper-" He took Star's rein. If they could get him and Hopper up the path, the others would follow peacefully.

Tiep proved a non-cooperative partner. "You let Rozt'a go off alone with Sheemzher?" He'd folded his arms across his chest.

"Do you think Rozt'a can't handle a goblin, Tiep? Should I mention that to her when she gets back?"

"Tymora protect me! Don't do that!" Tiep snatched Hopper's rein and fell in behind Druhallen.

"What then? I thought you and the goblin had made peace."

"We did," Tiep replied with a notable lack of enthusiasm. "As much peace as an honest man can make with a liar."

"Right," Dru agreed with a sigh.

Star sulked and balked, but he was thirsty and the smell of running water got him down the last slope.

"You're sure we're going to be able to get them out of here?" Tiep asked when he and Hopper were beside the water.

The slope had been steeper than Dru imagined. They'd all had a few sliding, frightening moments. Dru had wrenched his shoulder keeping Star upright and Hopper was favoring the hoof he'd cracked before they got to Parnast.

"Well push 'em out one at a time, if we have to. It was here or leave them on the bogs. If the goblins catch sight of them, they'll eat them all." After emptying one of the forage-filled nets, Dru handed the green wood poles to Tiep. "Strip them down while I heat the pitch and dip the rushes."

They had three torches finished when Rozt'a and Sheemzher returned.

"He found it," Rozt'a announced. Dru watched Tiep roll his eyes skyward. "We went down as far as we could-as far as I could without light. Why Ao made their eyes better than ours is something I'll never understand."

Dru wound another length of pitch-dripping greenery around the working end of a torch. Rozt'a wouldn't have given up sunlight or far-sight for all the moonlight in the world, but that didn't keep her from complaining. He understood the frustration-and a few of the races did have undisputedly better vision than humans did-but not the goblins. One had only to look at Sheemzher's watery eyes to know that.

Rozt'a hefted one of the finished torches. She tested the pitch to see if it would light. "We could take these and check it out, Dru-go down and really see what we're up against before you're up against midnight decisions."

Druhallen advocated caution. In truth, he was anxious… afraid. Rozt'a, Sheemzher, even Tiep were cut from different cloth than he. They were fighters, hunters, or gamblers and would rather be in the middle of a situation than mapping it from the outside. Dru had probably done more damage to life and limb than the three of them combined, but always in reaction. He didn't start fights, didn't deliberately expose himself to danger "We won't steal the godsforsaken thing," Rozt'a chided. "We're just going to try to get a look at it so we can decide how we'll steal it tomorrow… is that better?"

She tossed her torch Dru's way. He caught it without hesitation.

Tiep grabbed the other two. "Who says we won't steal it?" he asked as he scrambled up the rocks.

Dru made them wait until he'd checked his folding box and pulled soft rope from their gear. He wouldn't deny the wisdom in Rozt'a's words-or in Tiep's for that matter. If they could snatch the scroll, then, by gods, they would, but he wasn't plunging underground without embers enough to kindle his fire spells five times over and all the rope he could comfortably carry.

Sheemzher's way into Dekanter was a gap in the gray rocks that was generously wide for him, tight for Rozt'a and Tiep, and downright painful for a man with Druhallen's shoulders. He went in feet first. When he got stuck, Rozt'a wrapped her arms around his dangling legs and pulled with all her strength. Druhallen entered the ancient mines of Dekanter with a groan.

Moments later, after he'd kindled a light spell, Dru had forgotten his discomfort. A pair of gilded symbols had been carved into the squared-off ceiling. He didn't read dwarven script, but he knew their Dethek runes by sight.

"We've come to the right place."

The goblin set a steady pace. There wasn't time to explore, even when their path took Dru past side chambers where the Netherese wizards had perfected-or not perfected-their art. The chambers had been looted-Dru could see that much from the corridor-but debris remained. The walls of several were covered with the Empire's ancient script.

Dru's head said, keep walking. His heart said, take a moment, read the walls-what harm can a moment bring? The light spell followed him into a square room.

Woe betide the… He racked his memory for a translation. Woe betide the moon-eyed thief…

Rozt'a broke Dru's concentration. "We're in the dark up here. Get a move on. You're the one with the light."

Dru hurried, caught up. He deliberately hadn't memorized the Candlekeep scrying spell. He couldn't succumb to the temptation to cast it; that didn't stop the aching. "You don't understand-" he muttered and quickly swallowed the rest of his private disappointment.

"I don't," Rozt'a agreed. "Galimer would. He'd be wide-eyed beside you, if he wasn't stuck in Weathercote Wood."

Druhallen nodded. Remembering where Galimer was effectively dashed his curiosity. "Lead on," he said to the goblin.

Sheemzher led them along sloping corridors. They were moving away from the quarry, at least Dru thought they were. Over the years, his sense of direction had proven reliable above ground, but this was his first experience with caverns and mines. He was calm until their corridor ended at a cross passage. Dru matched the Dethek runes above them with the ones he'd seen at their entrance. He deduced that the four on the cross-passage ceiling were directional guides-useless directional guides for a man who could read a Netherese wizard's curse but not a dwarf's clear-cut runes.

Left or right? He asked himself and was suddenly in the grip of primal terror: They had torches, but no water, no food. If they made a wrong turn or failed to retrace their steps accurately, the light spell would eventually fizzle, likewise the torches, and they'd be trapped in the dark. Dru felt the mountain around him. His heart raced, his lungs labored-The damned goblin wasn't even looking up at the Dethek runes for guidance!

The light spell revealed Sheemzher standing on his toes in the intersection. He turned slowly to the right, then to the left. His eyes were shut, his nose was pointed up, his nostrils were wide, and he sniffed the still air like a dog.

After a few moments of this behavior, he chose the right-side path. "Come," he said. "Come. Sheemzher remember. This way."

Dru had beaten back his fear-or he thought he had. His feet weren't moving. "You remember what?" Dru asked, sounding like Tiep. "This can't be the path you followed six years ago, not if you followed Elva and the Takers underground from that black stone."