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Once Kester allowed Agis to return to his own feet, he realized that he had been knocked a short distance down the passage. By the dim glow of the burning bow, he saw the bear’s huge silhouette a few yards away. The beast had collapsed on its stomach, its lifeless muzzle buried beneath the dust and its immense bulk blocking the exit to their small passage. So completely did the creature fill the grotto that only a few feet remained between its back and the ceiling.

“Sorry to let ye do all the fighting,” Kester said. Beneath the silt, her hand was still on the noble’s elbow. “But by the time I got myself out of the silt and cleared my lungs, ye were under the damned beast, and I didn’t want to startle it.”

“It was a remarkable battle,” said Tithian, moving into the light of the burning bow. The king, shorter than either Agis or Kester, barely managed to hold his chin above the silt.

“Where were you hiding during the fight?” Agis demanded. He winced as a fresh bolt of pain flashed through his body. “A little magic might have been helpful.”

“And interfere with such an artful display? Never,” Tithian replied. “I saw Rikus kill a half-dozen bears during his time in the arena, and not one of those kills was as clean as yours.”

Agis narrowed his eyes, but he saw no point in commenting on the king’s cowardice. Instead, he said, “Let’s get Nymos and go.”

“We can go,” said Tithian. “But there isn’t much of Nymos to take along.”

“What do you mean?” Agis asked.

Kester’s eyes grew sad, and she shook her head. “The bear’s first blow took us amidships, right where he was sitting.”

“If you want to bring him along, you’ll have to collect the pieces first,” Tithian added. He moved past the noble and picked the jozhal’s tail off the other side of a stalagmite, then offered it to Agis. “Personally, I don’t think it’s worth the time.”

“Let’s hope the dwarves are as kind to you as the bear was to Nymos,” Agis spat. The noble slapped Tithian’s hand away and turned to see if he could climb over the bear’s corpse.

It was then that he saw two huge eyes in the shadows between the bear’s spine and the cavern ceiling. “I’m afraid we have company,” the noble whispered. Of its own accord, his free hand dropped to his empty scabbard.

“So I see,” said Tithian. He was already reaching for his enchanted satchel.

Kester grabbed the plunging pole and stepped forward. “Mind yer own business, beasty!” she growled, thrusting the tip into the gap.

The eyes vanished, then a mighty groan rumbled through the cavern, and the bear’s carcass started to slide back into the larger passage, filling the air with billowing clouds of dust.

“Bad men!” growled a familiar voice. “Kill bear!”

The jaws of the three colleagues fell open, then Agis cried, “Fylo? Is that you?”

The bear stopped moving. “Me Fylo,” came the muffled reply. “So?”

“Do you know who this is?” Agis called.

“Bear killers,” the giant returned, again tugging on the bear. “Fylo take you and throw you into Bay of Woe.”

“This is your friend, Agis.”

The pink-gleaming eyes appeared in the gap beneath the ceiling. “Agis? What you doing here?”

“Don’t answer that,” Tithian whispered, pulling a glass rod from his satchel.

Fylo’s eyes darted to the king’s form, then they narrowed angrily. “Tithian!”

The eyes disappeared. An instant later, a long arm shot over the bear’s back and tried to pluck Tithian from the dust channel. Kester quickly raised a dagger and jabbed it into a huge fingertip. Fylo’s muffled voice uttered an angry curse, then he pulled his hand away.

“You and I are supposed to be friends, Fylo!” Agis yelled. “Is this how friends treat each other?”

“Good,” Tithian murmured, fingering the glass rod in his hands. “Draw him out. All I need is one chance.”

Agis pushed the king’s hand down. “No.”

“Tithian not friend,” Fylo said, peering back over the bear. He had pulled the carcass far enough into the larger cavern so that he could push his entire head into the gap, albeit sideways. “And maybe Agis not friend, either. Why kill Fylo’s bear?” The giant’s cavernous nostrils twitched as he sniveled in remorse.

“If you’re my friend, why did you let your bear attack me?” Agis countered.

Fylo furrowed his sloped brow, then said, “Fylo didn’t know it was Agis.”

“And we didn’t know it was your bear,” Agis replied. “We were just minding our own business when it attacked. We had no choice except to defend ourselves.”

Fylo considered this for a moment, then said, “You invade bear’s den. Him just defending home.” The giant frowned and began to withdraw.

Before the giant’s face disappeared entirely, Kester quickly asked, “What are ye doing living with a bear, anyway?”

Fylo pushed his head forward again. This time, there was a proud smile on his lips. “Fylo becoming Saram-Bawan Nal’s own clan,” he explained. “But first, Fylo need new head-big one, since him full grown. So Fylo make friends with bear, ask him to trade heads.” As the giant came to this last part, a sad frown crept across his lips, then he groaned, “But now bear dead. Fylo not join Saram. Him have nowhere to go-again.”

The giant slumped down on the other side of the bear and fell silent.

Tithian came to Agis’s side. “We don’t have time for this,” he whispered, holding his glass rod up. “Get that dimwit to show himself again. I’ll take care of him so we can get on with our business.”

“I know you’ll find this hard to believe,” said Agis, “but I don’t betray my friends.”

Tithian shook his head in disbelief. “Pardon me,” he sneered. “I didn’t realize your taste in friends had become so bad-though I suppose I should have, given your penchant for the company of ex-slaves and dwarves.”

“I find it preferable to that of kings,” the noble replied coldly.

Tithian’s eyes flashed in anger. “That’s your choice, I suppose,” he said. “But if you’re not going to kill this dimwit, at least get rid of him so we can get on with our business.”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” said Agis. “In fact, I think it would be better if I talked with him for a while. Otherwise, he may decide that it’s his duty to report us to the Saram.”

“Which is why you should let me kill him!” whispered the king.

Ignoring the king, Agis waded forward and grabbed the bear’s ear, then used it to help him climb onto its shoulders. The effort sent daggers of pain shooting through his ribs, and blood began to ooze from the dust-caked wounds on his torso.

“Fylo, I’m sorry about killing your bear,” the noble said. In the flickering firelight spilling through the gap from the burning bow, the noble could barely make out the giant’s bulging eyes. “Is there anything we can do to make up the loss to you?”

The giant glumly shook his head. “No.”

“If you take the bear back to the castle later, maybe you can still trade heads with it,” he suggested.

Fylo looked up. “Bear too heavy for Fylo to carry.”

Tithian suddenly stepped over to the bear’s head. “Maybe I can help,” he said. “With my magic, I can lift it for you. It would be difficult, but I could do it-if you showed us the way through these caves and into the castle.”

The giant looked at the king as though he were mad. “Fylo can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head. “Caves don’t go into castle. They go down, under Bay of Woe.”

“What?” demanded Kester. “We heard there were caves inside the castle!”

The giant nodded. “Yes. Magic caves,” he said. “Very pretty, in different kinds of rock-not like these caves.”