The lashing rain continued. They found it slow going as they climbed the side of the mountain to stand under the tree where Grod had been sitting. In a spirit of helpful-ness, he pointed north, then south, then to be sure he was right, east and west. In the distance, the others spotted the faint glow of a fire.
"How do they keep it going in the rain?" Ripple asked. The black clouds were dumping a deluge on them, yet the dwarf fire seemed unbothered by it.
"Great! Fire that can burn in the rain. I'd like something like that. Is it magic? Do dwarves have magic too?" Trap asked, his eyes alight with hope.
"None that I know of, but then dwarves have not been my study," Halmarain replied. "Except the Aghar, of course," she said after a hard look from Grod.
Trap thought she had finally accepted the idea of the gully dwarves' magic wheel until he saw her dip her head and smile.
While the others waited under the tree, which gave them a little shelter from the rain, Trap hurried down the slope, slipping and sliding. At the bottom of the valley that separated the two mountains he found a rushing stream, but luckily for him, a large tree had fallen across it, and he used the thick bole to cross the worst of the current.
The climb up the other slope was more difficult, because of the torrent of water washing down the steep slope, but at last he was within fifty feet of the dwarves' camp. The six Neidar were sitting beneath a tent-like structure that was nothing more than a canvas roof on hastily erected poles, but it did keep the rain, which was falling straight down, from drowning their fire. They appeared to be partially dry as they sat on the saddles they had removed from their mounts. Not far away and partly sheltered by an overhang of the cliffs, their ponies stood hobbled and sleeping.
Trap frowned. If this had been one of his tales, the dwarves would have been talking and he would have learned all he needed to know. Instead they stared into the fire, and he would have to search out the entrance for himself.
The kender pulled out a ring, slipped it on his finger and checked himself. He was still visible. Wrong ring, he decided. He held the first in his left hand while he searched his pouches with his right. Aha! With the second ring on his finger he had disappeared, even from his own sight.
Since the dwarves seemed unwilling to talk about anything of interest, he circled around the camp and took a close look at the cliff wall. Beyond the fire he found a strange formation. Where the base of the stone cliff curved, a thin, almost crust-like wall jutted out from the cliff like a curtain. A narrow opening, one that would not be noticed unless the searcher pressed right against the cliff, allowed access into a chamber about twelve feet long and six feet wide. In spots the outer wall was wafer thin, and the faint light from the dwarves' fire penetrated it. Trap looked around.
He had found the entrance to the abandoned city of Digondamaar, he decided. He could see the cracks where the cliff wall was unnaturally smooth and even. They outlined a door five feet high and four feet wide. Behind him the irregularities in the curtain wall were made by nature. The rest of the cliff side was rough as well, except for the curtain wall. The big secret was a failure.
He slipped out of the small antechamber, hurried along the base of the cliff until he would be lost in the darkness, and pulled off the ring. Back under the tree on the other side of the valley, he told the others what he had seen.
"Then all we have to do is hold off the dwarves while we open the door by means unknown to any of us." Halmarain said in a voice that made the task seem impossible. The rain had drowned her enthusiasm.
"I've been thinking about that," Trap said. "Where is that knife that cuts so well?" He scrounged around in his pouches, but it was Ripple, digging in her own bags, that discovered it.
"You must have put it in my pouch by mistake," she said, handing it over.
"Pretty Kender need pretty knife," Grod said.
"You mean you've been stealing from them too?" Halmarain looked up, surprised. The idea of anyone taking a kender's belongings seemed to astonish her.
"Have you? Trap eyed the gully dwarf with awe rather than anger. "We'd better check our pouches and sort out our belongings again," Trap told Ripple as he tucked the knife in his belt.
They made their plans and slogged their way across the valley. By traveling in the storm and the darkness they could get quite near to the dwarves' camp without being seen. When they were as close as they dared go, Trap put on the ring of invisibility again and slipped around the dwarves who, by that time, had rolled themselves in their blankets and were snoring loudly. Trap crept along the base of the cliff until he reached their mounts. Then with Orander's knife he cut the leather straps that kept the ponies hobbled.
When the last animal was free, he made a noise like a frightened whinny and slapped the animals on the rump. They went charging along the foot of the cliff, passing close to the sleeping dwarves.
The first dwarf to hear them gave a shout, bringing the rest to their feet. All six went chasing after their mounts. As soon as they were away from the fire, Trap ran over to stand in its light, took off the ring, and signaled the others to hurry. Within minutes they were all within the dry shelter of the stone curtain wall. Trap pulled Halmarain over to the outline of the door while Ripple watched for the return of the dwarves.
"It's here." He stood in front of the smooth section and sketched a door with his out-flung arms, showing Halmarain the outline. "It's strange they would hide the antechamber so well and make the area of the door so obvious," he said.
"I'll try an opening spell," the little wizard said, pushing back her sleeves as if getting ready for a difficult chore.
"And don't forget your other spells," Ripple spoke from the shadowy entrance to the outer chamber. "Two of the dwarves have caught their ponies. They'll soon be coming back."
"Quiet, don't break my concentration," Halmarain said. She muttered an incantation that sounded like gibberish.
"Well? Nothing happened," Trap said, pointing out the obvious.
Halmarain frowned. "I didn't think my spell would be strong enough to open the door, but there should have been a glimmer-the seams around the door should have glowed for a moment-something should have happened. I'll try a finding spell."
They watched the wall, but the little wizard's spell brought no result.
"Wheel try door?" Umpth asked. He stood stroking the rusty and now muddy metal rim expectantly.
"Fine, you try," Halmarain sounded exasperated. She put her small hands on her hips and glared at the gully dwarf. "Go ahead, see what you can do."
"The dwarves are coming back," Ripple warned.
"If I had enough light to see, maybe I could find a lock," Trap suggested.
"You'll have to wait until daylight. The dwarves will see a light through the curtain wall," Halmarain said. "If we're very quiet no one will know we're here."
She was wrong.
Chapter 34
In his great history, Astinus recorded…
Draaddis Vulter's foot slipped as he whirled around. He had been walking south, along the wet clay bank above the rushing stream. He had been expecting to find the drowned bodies of the kender and the merchesti when he sensed the message that reached him from the northeast.
He was surprised, surprised because he had for some hours entirely forgotten his messenger, the winged rat. Because he had forgotten it, forgotten to reinforce his commands to it, the little creature had allowed the wind to blow it into the mountains. It had taken shelter from the storm on the leeward side of an outcrop.
He had felt but ignored its dim mind as it watched Draaddis's goblins farther away. The humanoids were, like the rat, trying to shelter from the storm. The winged rat, its thoughts of the chilly storm air and hunger, passed along its recognition of the goblins. Though most of its thoughts centered on its discomfort.
Its panic squealed in Draaddis's mind as it flashed him an image of two kender who passed along a trail and came within two feet of the rat's dark shelter. The kender were rapidly f
ollowed by the gully dwarves, the merchesti, and bringing up the rear was the smallest of the dwarves. Until the rat sent Draaddis the clear image of Halmarain's face, he had not realized that the tiny wizard was with the party-probably leading it.
His mind backed up, reconsidering his conclusion. He had to be wrong, he decided. He had seen the little apprentice in Orander's laboratory. He had seen the kender on the trail, along with the merchesti, two gully dwarves, and another smaller dwarf, a youngster who had no beard…
The apprentice had been traveling in disguise. He had seen the dwarf clothing and dismissed her without a second look. He had made a serious error in not recognizing her; the dragon queen would not be pleased, though she had not seen through the disguise either.
The apprentice had led them to the western arm of the Khalkist Mountains, close to the dwarf mines. They had traveled east for a reason, and their destination had to be… Chalmis Rosterig!
He was opening his mouth to use a teleport spell when he realized he had no memory of it. Relearning his spell and teleporting would be faster than physically walking the distance in the storm.
He pulled out his book, found a rock which, though wet, was not covered with mud. Draaddis sat, pulling up a fold of his cloak to protect the spellbook and his little magic light from the weather.
He mouthed the words, driving them into his memory. He had to reach Digondamaar before the apprentice and the kender reached the white wizard.
* * * * *
As much as I like telling this tale, it's been a long one, and my throat is so very, very dry… thank you, innkeeper, that's much better, and you do serve excellent ale.
Now, where was I? They were just leaving Solanthus … I told that part? Did I tell you about the wari stampede? I liked that. You wouldn't like to hear it again, would you?
Now I remember.… they had chased off the dwarves' ponies and had reached the secret entrance to Digondamaar…
"Two dwarves are coming back," warned Ripple, who had been watching the dwarves as they tried to recapture their mounts. "Three have caught their ponies and are chasing the others-"
A terrific flash of lightning threw the mountainside into high relief, and for a split second the light penetrated the thinnest sections of the stone curtain wall.
"What's this?" Trap had been searching along the cliff wall, trying to find a way to open the secret door. In the high relief of the lightning flash, he thought he saw a rock he had not noticed before. When the light died he tried to find it but was unsuccessful.
"Wow! That lightning startled the dwarf ponies and one threw his rider," Ripple said. "It scared the rest and they're all galloping down the mountain."
"Are any of the dwarves looking this way?" Halmarain asked.
"No, they're too busy slipping and sliding."
The little wizard raised her staff, spoke a word of command, flipped her staff, and from the top came a little ball of light that sailed over to Trap and settled itself over his head.
"You brag about being able to find traps and locks, find this one," she said, her expression a challenge.
"Gee, that's not fair! No one can see in the dark- though, Ripple, didn't Makeway Northgo once have some sort of magic glass that…" Trap turned from the wall, his question about a distant relative uppermost in his mind.
"Are you going to look for that rock?" Halmarain demanded.
"Oh. Sure! I forgot." Trap resumed his search. He had just begun to look about him when Ripple came running over.
"They've caught the ponies and are starting back up the slope," she warned.
Halmarain spoke another command word and the little ball of light zipped back to disappear into the top of her staff.
"We'll have to wait until the sun rises," she said. "Everyone be as quiet as possible. She laid a calming spell on Beglug, who wrapped himself in his blanket and lay down to sleep. The two gully dwarves sat. They leaned against the curtain wall with every evidence of comfort.
The wait was harder on the kender who were bored in less than a minute. Trap heard sounds that could have been slight scuffling and realized his sister was scrounging in her pouches to find something to occupy her time. That seemed like a good idea, so he began to finger his own possessions. He pulled out one of the smooth stones and stood tossing it from one hand to the other for what seemed like hours until he heard the dwarves arriving back at their camp.
"Someone cut the hobbles," one dwarf was saying. "There are goblins or kobolds around somewhere." The dwarves were speaking in their own tongue. He said something else, but while the kender spoke a little dwarvish, Trap could not understand the rest.
"I'll make a torch and take a look," another said. "Ai-i! Those thorns hurt-"
The dwarf didn't finish his sentence because his cry of pain had startled Trap who dropped what he had thought was a rock.
He had been playing with one of the glass flame balls he had picked up in Deepdel and when it hit the stone floor of the antechamber it broke. It exploded almost between Ripple's feet and she gave a cry as she jumped back.
"Of all the stupid-" Halmarain bit back her complaint. If the dwarves hadn't heard Ripple, she had certainly given away their location.
"He's not stupid! Stop fussing and remember your magic," Ripple, who had skipped away from the dying fire, warned the little wizard. In an instant she had grabbed her whippik and stood ready to drive off the first of the dwarves.
The gully dwarves had awakened, recognized the fighting stances of their companions, and backed away to stand against the far wall.
"Halmarain, don't forget, you have some magic you might use," Ripple said. "We'd really like to see you do some."
"What am I supposed to do?" Halmarain demanded. "I don't want to kill them so do I mend their clothing or clean their dishes?"
Even if the dwarves had not seen the flash of fire, they had certainly heard Ripple's cry and the talk that followed. From inside the antechamber, Trap heard the rattle of weapons and saw the moving light that approached the entrance.
Since the secret of their arrival had been discovered, Halmarain called the little light from the staff and sent it sailing just outside the entrance, where it illuminated the Neidar but left the defenders in the shadows.
When Tolem, the first dwarf, approached the entrance, Trap let fly with a real stone. He made sure of what he was shooting by picking one up off the floor. His aim had been the middle of the dwarf's breastplate and the force of the rock sent the Neidar staggering back into his friends.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Trap called out. "If you'll just calm down, we can explain and I don't think you'll be angry anymore. You notice I didn't try to kill you."
"That was your mistake," the dwarf roared back. He came charging into the antechamber, his axe held over his shoulder as if he would hack Trap in half as soon as he reached him.
"You need to learn to listen," Trap said as he skipped aside to avoid the dwarf. Tolem, unable to see the rough, rock-strewn floor of the antechamber, stepped on a stone and nearly fell. As he staggered he turned to the left. He was facing Ripple when he regained his balance.
"No hurt Pretty Kender!" Umpth cried out. He had been cowering against the far wall, but seeing the axe ready to descend on his friend gave him courage. He had one hand on the rim of the wheel. In a move too swift for anticipation, he grasped the rim and threw it, sending it sailing toward the dwarf.
The hub caught on the horn of Tolem's helmet and spun. The weight of the spinning wheel threw the dwarf off balance. He staggered back toward his companions that had charged into the chamber behind him. Four went down in a heap.
"Him make good whirly-gig," Grod said, dancing in excitement and fear.
"Aghar magic more big than Neidar," Umpth said with satisfaction. He hurried over to help Trap to his feet.
Ripple knelt on the floor. She had less patience than her brother and had given up any idea of explaining the theft to the dwarves. She set her whippik in a crack in the floo
r, picked up a stone, and used the loop on the end of her weapon as an improvised sling.
The rock pelted one of the dwarves that had scrambled out of the pile of arms and legs. She struck him a strong blow on the shoulder and he was knocked into the last of his companions.
The last two dwarves were behaving strangely. They had charged into the shelter of the antechamber but they seemed less interested in the small group of adventurers than something outside.
Ripple's whippik was not really designed to sling rocks and her second one sailed over the dwarf's head. It flew out into the darkness and struck with a thud. The cry of pain and the curse that followed the strike was definitely humanoid.
"There's someone else out there," Trap said, almost forgetting the dwarves as he stood on tiptoe in an attempt to see.
"Goblins," one of the dwarves nearest the entrance replied. He seemed to have forgotten his anger at the adventurers in the face of a more dangerous enemy.
"How many?" Tolem, the dwarf leader, asked his companion. He had freed his helmet of the wagon wheel and was ready to charge Trap again. He clearly begrudged having to turn his attention to a more dangerous enemy.
"Looks like a score or more and some bugbears with them, I can't tell how many."
"Goblins? Bugbears? Golly, we sure are running into a lot of people all of a sudden," Trap danced in excitement. "Together we should be able to drive off twenty goblins."
"There's no together…" the largest dwarf snarled, but Tolem, interrupted him, proving why he was the leader.
"Our fight with the kender can wait," he said. "Let's handle our common enemy first." He glared at the group at the far end of the antechamber. "One of you is a magic-user, can you direct that light out there and find out how many we have to fight?"
Halmarain sighed for the loss of her secret and eased past the dwarves to the entrance. She guided the light and they saw nine bugbears as well as the twenty goblins in the distance.
Tales of Uncle Trapspringer ll-3 Page 26
