"We're trying to make sure no one else gets killed saving your foolish hide," she said. The halfling sure had an irritating little voice. "You getting enough air through those airholes?"

"Yeah."

"Shut up or that will change."

Nottle fell silent As Durwyn and Jarial searched the cultist's bodies, Kestrel studied the engraving on the padlock. She'd seen that circle and arch image before. It matched the glyph on the treasury door-and on the key she'd taken from the cult sorcerer upstairs.

"Never mind, boys. I think I've found it." She withdrew the key from her sleeve, and discovered that it slipped easily into the lock. The clasp sprung open. A moment later, the peddler was free.

"Finally! I thought I'd never git outta there." The halfling stretched his short limbs to their fullest extent.

"We told you this place was dangerous, Nottle," Corran said as he and Ghleanna rejoined the group.

"Yeah, I know. I couldn't resist. Scavenging's in my blood." He leaned toward Kestrel. "Surely you, m'dear, understand the lure of an old dwarven treasury? I suspect we're kindred spirits."

She didn't deny the allure but preferred to think she had more sense. She nodded toward the dead cultists. "I see this is a great place for making new friends."

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Nah, they weren't friendly at all. 'Specially when I wouldn't join their club."

Corran's brow rose. "They invited you to join their organization?"

"Well, not exactly-said I could make a 'great contribution,' but I kinda got the feelin' they were all in on some joke I didn't understan'. Not that I'd want t'belong to somethin' called the Cult of the Dragon. I don't like dragons. Though they have got nice treasure. Dragons, that is-I dunno about these folks."

Kestrel and the others exchanged glances, but no one seemed familiar with the cult's name.

"Did they tell you anything about their activities?" Corran asked.

"Nah. But I did overhear a thing or two. Once they shut me up in the box, they sometimes forgot about me and talked a little too freely. Since ye rescued me and all, I'll tell ye what they said without chargin' my usual price for information."

Kestrel smiled thinly. "How generous of you."

Nottle appeared not to notice her sarcasm. "These cult folks, they're the ones who killed yer friends the other day. They're also the ones who drove the alhoon and phaerimm outta this part o'the city."

"Their sorcerers are that powerful?"

"Their leader is-he's a dracolich!"

A shudder raced up Kestrel's spine. If an undead dragon was behind all these events, their quest was even more doomed than she'd previously imagined.

Durwyn scratched his head. "I thought Emmeric said the cult leader was an archmage. Some woman-Kya something."

"Perhaps they're working cooperatively," Corran suggested. "Nottle, did you overhear anything else?"

"Somethin' 'bout using some kinda pool t'make the dracolich stronger than he already is."

Everyone but Nottle exchanged apprehensive glances. "Does the pool have a name?" Ghleanna asked.

Nottle shrugged. "Don't know. They jus' kept calling it 'the pool.' It was a little hard t'hear from where I was sittin', ye know."

Jarial cleared his throat "Can we talk about this en route? Now that Nottle is free, we shouldn't tarry."

Corran nodded. "Jarial's right This news only increases the urgency of our mission."

"Emmeric?" Durwyn asked.

"At rest." Corran replied. "Let us finish what he and his companions started."

Following a shortcut Nottle knew, they passed yet another ice-covered doorway on their way back to the Room of Words. "I sure wish we knew what those frozen rooms were about." Durwyn said.

"Perhaps they're related to the Rohnglyn," Nottle said.

"The what?"

The peddler shrugged. "'Accordin' to rumor, some kinda magic transportation use t'connect all four levels of the dwarven dungeons. Rohnglyn, the elves called it. Years back, when the alhoon was still layin' claim t'these halls, they all got in some big feud an'one o'the beasts put an ice charm on the Rohnglyn. Froze the thing right in place, or so I hear."

"This device," Corran asked, "it would enable us to move between levels more quickly?"

"Instantly. So they say, anyway."

Corran pulled out his warhammer. "Care to help me make a few ice cubes, Durwyn?"

The two warriors smashed their way through the ice, revealing a room identical to the one they'd seen before- with one notable exception. The rune on the floor lay covered with ice stalagmites infused with colored lights. Elaborate icicles, many thick as tree trunks, hung from the ceiling, some of them fused to the lower ice formations in great columns of ice. As in the other room, a frozen golden sphere floated at about waist level in the center of the circular pattern.

Ghleanna tapped one of the ice formations with her staff. "Solid."

"Can you free it from the alhoon's spell?" Corran asked.

"We can try." She raised a brow at Jarial. "What do you think? Should we attempt to dispel the magic or counter it?"

"The alhoon are powerful spellcasters. I don't know if either of us has the experience to dispel such strong sorcery." Jarial circled the rune, running his hands along some of the icicles. "It looks like the sphere could withstand a fireball, which would probably melt some of the ice…"

Ghleanna nodded pensively. "Perhaps if we all stood outside the chamber, a lightning bolt could break through the thicker ice formations."

As the two discussed additional possibilities, Kestrel noticed Durwyn shifting impatiently. The warrior concentrated on the icicle nearest him, his fingers absently stroking the haft of his axe.

Corran joined in the mages' discussion. "If you weaken the ice with your spells, I'm sure Durwyn and I could then-"

"Enough talk. We waste time!" Durwyn raised his battle-axe and swung at the closest icicle. The force of the blow sent a huge crack running along the ice from top to bottom. As it weakened, its center seemed to take on a bluish hue. Durwyn struck again, this time breaking through the formation. Embedded in the jagged layers of ice rested a thin blue shard that twinkled in the torchlight

They all moved closer for a better look. "Well, I'll be pickled," Nottle said. "What do ye suppose that is?"

Jarial furrowed his brow in concentration. "It looks like…" He extended a hand, running his fingers along the crystal's edge. "It is. This is an ice knife, identical to one Ozama often conjured through spellcasting. Only hers wasn't blue."

"Borea's Blood," Nottle whispered.

"You've heard of it?"

The halfling's eyes glowed as he regarded the ice sliver almost reverently. "It's said that Borea's Blood-" He stopped suddenly, as if remembering himself. His eyes regained their usual mercenary glint, and he shrugged casually. "Jest a blue knife, that's all. Nothin' you folks would wanna fug around with ye." He reached toward it "Here, I'll jes-"

"I don't think so." Kestrel batted away his arm. Obviously the knife had some value if the peddler took interest. "I'm sure lugging this around won't prove a burden to us at all." She grabbed the crystal and tugged, expecting it to remain frozen in place. To her surprise, the blue knife slid from the icicle as smoothly as a sword from its scabbard.

The moment Borea's Blood cleared its icy sheath, every shard of ice in the room immediately disappeared. The large ice formations vanished, while the broken chunks on the floor melted into small puddles. Only the blue crystal remained unchanged, resting coolly in the palm of Kestrel's hand. Above the rune, the colored lights danced like faeries on Midsummer Night

"You did it-you unfroze the Rohnglyn," Durwyn said.

She regarded the fighter. Had he not taken matters into his own hands, they might have wasted an hour debating strategy. She was developing new respect for the quiet but dedicated warrior. "No, it was your no-nonsense approach that found the crystal in the first place."