dust, stink, and sweet summer heat of the siege camp over this!
“Hope Gunderal brought along one of her warming potions,” the shivering Ivy said as she swung to her feet.
Mumchance and Ivy trudged back to the group, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind them.
“Gunderal’s the only one who didn’t fall in the river,” said Mumchance. Ivy looked down at him. It was impossible to see the dwarf s face underneath his helmet from this angle, but his voice sounded worried, which worried her further. “Hit the rocks hard instead.”
“Of course, the one who can breathe underwater and has webbed toes never goes in the water!” said Ivy, trying to coax a smile out of the old dwarf. Usually misfortune drew a bitter chuckle out of Mumchance, who took the admirable view that if you could not laugh at bad luck, then you would spend your life crying. But the dwarf did not respond to her feeble jokeanother bad sign. “What makes you more sour than an old pickle?”
“My belt came loose in the fall. My best hammer and my pick are underwater somewhere down here.” Mumchance’s gloom was blacker than the hole they were in. He adored his tools and took excellent care of all of them. The pick was only a hundred years old or so, but it was a favorite of his. Ivy glanced at him. The dwarf still had his short sword fastened securely to his weapons belt as well as a small spare hammer, but that wouldn’t help them dig their way out of the tunnel.
“Well, I have my sword and dagger,” said Ivy, doing a mental inventory of what weapons they might have.
“And I’ve got my eye.” In the lantern’s light, the diamond under his left eyebrow flashed. When he was young, Mumchance had been caught in a mine fire. The flames scarred his face and ruined his left eye. When he had enough gold, he paid another dwarf to carve him an eye out of a black sapphire. That was the first of his gem eyes, and he had sold it two hundred years ago to join an expedition to the Great Rift. Since then, he had owned several gem eyessome magical,
some not. Keeping a gem in an empty eye socket was as good a place as any to hide his wealth, he once told Ivy. After all, even the most ruthless of tax collectors or the most skillful of thieves did not want to plunge their fingers into the eye socket of an elderly dwarf.
His current hidden treasure was a gem bomb made from a polished diamond. Although his right eye was a dark green, many people did not realize that the left one was a fake. The advantage of having extremely bushy eyebrows and equally bushy eyelashes, claimed Mumchance.
“This stayed stuck,” said the dwarf, popping the fake eye out and then tapping it back into the socketa gesture that always made Ivy a bit nauseated, “even when I fell tail over head into the water.”
“At least you landed on the hardest part of your anatomy,” Ivy said. The dwarf snorted. “No, it’s good to see that diamond sparkle. We want you staying pretty.” It was a running joke between them: that his current fake eye could keep them all pretty in a bad situation. Gem bombs cost a terrific amount, but Ivy had been happy to pay her share of the expense for this particular diamond.
“Not losing the gem bomb is the only bit of good luck that we have had. You’ll see,” the dwarf pronounced in despondent tones. Mumchance’s expression could have won him a prize for the champion pessimist of the Vast.
When Ivy reached Zuzzara and Gunderal, she found the wizard looking paler than ever. She was clutching one arm and turning blue-white around the mouth from pain. Ivy knelt by Gunderal’s side. In the dim light of Mumchance’s lantern, even Ivy could clearly see that the wizard’s arm was dappled with bruises. Pulling off her gloves and thrusting them through her belt, Ivy felt along Gunderal’s arm with as gentle a touch as she could manage. The wizard bit her lip and didn’t say anything
while Zuzzara grumbled, “Don’t pull so hard.
“Hope Gunderal brought along one of her warming potions,” the shivering Ivy said as she swung to her feet.
Mumchance and Ivy trudged back to the group, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind them.
“Gunderal’s the only one who didn’t fall in the river,” said Mumchance. Ivy looked down at him. It was impossible to see the dwarf s face underneath his helmet from this angle, but his voice sounded worried, which worried her further. “Hit the rocks hard instead.”
“Of course, the one who can breathe underwater and has webbed toes never goes in the water!” said Ivy, trying to coax a smile out of the old dwarf. Usually misfortune drew a bitter chuckle out of Mumchance, who took the admirable view that if you could not laugh at bad luck, then you would spend your life crying. But the dwarf did not respond to her feeble jokeanother bad sign. “What makes you more sour than an old pickle?”
“My belt came loose in the fall. My best hammer and my pick are underwater somewhere down here.” Mumchance’s gloom was blacker than the hole they were in. He adored his tools and took excellent care of all of them. The pick was only a hundred years old or so, but it was a favorite of his. Ivy glanced at him. The dwarf still had his short sword fastened securely to his weapons belt as well as a small spare hammer, but that wouldn’t help them dig their way out of the tunnel.
“Well, I have my sword and dagger,” said Ivy, doing a mental inventory of what weapons they might have.
“And I’ve got my eye.” In the lantern’s light, the diamond under his left eyebrow flashed. When he was young, Mumchance had been caught in a mine fire. The flames scarred his face and ruined his left eye. When he had enough gold, he paid another dwarf to carve him an eye out of a black sapphire. That was the first of his gem eyes, and he had sold it two hundred years ago to join an expedition to the Great Rift. Since then, he had owned several gem eyessome magical,
some not. Keeping a gem in an empty eye socket was as good a place as any to hide his wealth, he once told Ivy. After all, even the most ruthless of tax collectors or the most skillful of thieves did not want to plunge their fingers into the eye socket of an elderly dwarf.
His current hidden treasure was a gem bomb made from a polished diamond. Although his right eye was a dark green, many people did not realize that the left one was a fake. The advantage of having extremely bushy eyebrows and equally bushy eyelashes, claimed Mumchance.
“This stayed stuck,” said the dwarf, popping the fake eye out and then tapping it back into the socketa gesture that always made Ivy a bit nauseated, “even when I fell tail over head into the water.”
“At least you landed on the hardest part of your anatomy,” Ivy said. The dwarf snorted. “No, it’s good to see that diamond sparkle. We want you staying pretty.” It was a running joke between them: that his current fake eye could keep them all pretty in a bad situation. Gem bombs cost a terrific amount, but Ivy had been happy to pay her share of the expense for this particular diamond.
“Not losing the gem bomb is the only bit of good luck that we have had. You’ll see,” the dwarf pronounced in despondent tones. Mumchance’s expression could have won him a prize for the champion pessimist of the Vast.
When Ivy reached Zuzzara and Gunderal, she found the wizard looking paler than ever. She was clutching one arm and turning blue-white around the mouth from pain. Ivy knelt by Gunderal’s side. In the dim light of Mumchance’s lantern, even Ivy could clearly see that the wizard’s arm was dappled with bruises. Pulling off her gloves and thrusting them through her belt, Ivy felt along Gunderal’s arm with as gentle a touch as she could manage. The wizard bit her lip and didn’t say anything
while Zuzzara grumbled, “Don’t pull so hard.
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