"Did a dwarf called Obmi bear it?"

"That one was heading directly for a large group of puissant elves – the snot-nosed servants of that upstart Mordenkainen. How that silly trickster howled when we took the prize before his own dogs could snap it up…"

"And the dwarf?"

Iggwilv smiled and gestured to Zuggtmoy. The demoness reached into the low bodice of her gown and withdrew a large, exceptionally ugly toad. "This is the very same dwarf you spoke of – Obmi? No matter, toads are such dear little things that I had to have him! They love to sit on my fungi, you know," the demoness concluded as she tapped the cowering batrachian on its warty head.

"So be it," Iuz said with a shrug. "He failed – or nearly so. If you wish him as a pet, he is yours until you tire of him."

The Queen of Fungi laughed a delightful little laugh and replaced the toad within her bosom. "You are so thoughtful, dear Iuz."

"It is nothing," the cambion said with forced generosity.

Iggwilv interrupted them. "Come, come, my dears, let us get to matters of import. My little Iuz has a kingdom to expand. There are plans to make. But first there must be a triumphal procession and festival here in Dorakaa! The populace must know of our coming, of the new power of the land, and of its new status as arbiter of all!"

Iuz groaned inwardly, cursing Iggwilv carefully in a corner of his mind that was well shielded from any possible prying by magic. Now, the cambion thought, I understand why Graz'zt imprisoned her in a dismal plane within the Abyss! Iggwilv, it was certain, would not settle for a role of silent helper in matters of state – or any other matters. In tandem with Zuggtmoy – and the two seemed to have become virtual sisters – they would never allow him his prerogatives, nor a moment's peace.

"Pay attention, Iuz!" Iggwilv said with a scolding tone that didn't fit her charming beauty at all. "You were always a daydreaming little do-nothing as a youngling, but that won't be the case anymore!"

"Yes, Iuz, do attend our words," added Zuggtmoy. "If we are to rule a fitting state here on this silly little world, you must be able to do your part, so pay attention!"

Iggwilv took the opportunity to berate him for his poor choices in selecting members for the three groups of six who served him. "It is just as well that Ormuz and the one called Patch chose to die in battle! Had they dared return, their deaths would have been longer and less handsome! Know you that the one dealt with lackeys of Nerull, whilst the other sought to make a pact with your father?"

Iuz shook his head, for he could not speak.

"And those miserable little nothings who sought to terrorize the northern stretch of the Vesve. All they managed to do was stir up an organized force, which slew them and their horde. Now all the forest is lost to us, for between the woods-folk, Mordenkainen, and the dirty elves there, it will be unsafe to venture amidst that forest for some time!"

Both Rudduj and Bee were dead, too? The impact struck Iuz like a cold slap. He gritted his needle-sharp teeth and asked pleasantly, "What would you do?"

"Teach that minion of yours, Halga, her proper place first!" Zuggtmoy said with a grating voice.

"Then we will assist you in the selection of replacements," Iggwilv added.

Chapter 31

It took several days for Gord to manage the walk back to where his friends waited. The wounds from spell and hammer were worse than he had thought. Changing into his feline form seemed to help. It also avoided the carnivores drawn to the scene of the battle by the smell of blood and death. By the time Gord came to the camp where Gellor, Chert, and the boys waited, he was nearly at full strength again, and feeling fit. His comrades cheered him when Gord walked in, but the expression his worn face bore quickly dampened their joy.

"The news is bad, then?" Gellor asked.

"I fear the worst," said Gord morosely. "Obmi escaped despite all I could do. The vile dwarf is perhaps in the hands of the archmage Mordenkainen, for that one brought a horde of the enemy to battle and routed the humanoids – so Melf said. That one was there, too. I saw him and owe him much…"

They talked long then, Gord telling of his pursuit of Obmi, his feigned service to the demon Graz'zt, and the desperate attempt to prevent the dwarf from fleeing to Iuz with the Second Key. They marveled at his slaying Keak at the very moment the crazed mage had turned the young man into a stone statue by his magic, and agreed that Melf had done a great service in restoring Gord to natural life.

"You might have done worse," Chert said, slapping his friend on the back and hugging him warmly. "To have rid the world of the likes of Keak is a service to all!"

After a bit more discussion, they shared a meager supper and retired. There was much to do now. It was time to get from the forest as swiftly as possible, and get word to those who waited as to what events had taken place. Perhaps it was already known, but the probability of the passage into the hands of the cambion of that instrument of Evil was of utmost urgency to relate. They slept uneasily and rose before dawn.

It was a relatively swift and easy journey. There were none of the evil creatures lurking in the Vesve, although they encountered a cautious group of armed woodsmen and later a small band of wild elves roaming through the trees seeking any enemies who might still be hiding there. Both companies were suspicious of the five at first, but then gave them much honor and respect for their part in what had occurred. Gord made a point of telling both the chief of the wood-dwellers and the elven leader that the dwarf Obmi had borne an object of evil power toward the realm of Iuz. That news, he knew, would soon spread throughout the forest. Thus they made their way toward the south, and soon they were near to Tusham again.

That evening the two lads averred that they had no desire to ever dwell in that village again. Both were anxious to remain with their three newfound friends.

"We will be most useful – won't we, Shad?" Thatch had assured the doubtful Gellor. "In return for taking us along and teaching us about weapons and the rest, we'll cook and clean up, and care for your gear most thoroughly."

"That we will," chimed in little Shadow. "And we'll never get in the way, either."

"How will you keep up once we're out of the forest?" asked Chert. That put a damper on both boys' plans, but only for a moment.

"I think we can manage," said Shad earnestly to his bigger comrade, "if they'll allow us to put our gear on their horses."

"Right!" Thatch said, understanding his friend's direction. "We can trot all day as long as we don't have to tote all that stuff, too!"

Chert laughed, for he had no intention of making these two lads run behind their horses. The barbarian had already decided that both boys would make sound warriors and hunters with proper training and guidance, and he would see they got it. When they arrived at Tusham tomorrow, Chert had plans to find a pair of small horses for them to ride, and he'd see them properly accoutered in the process – they would earn their gear and keep through service.

The bard had no such intentions, for his duty was to return to his homeland and report there to his liege lord. Unwilling to deflate their hopes, and unaware of Chert's resolve, Gellor merely grunted noncommittally and let the whole thing pass.

"Master Gord, what do you say?" Shad begged.

Having no desire to teach these boys the dark ways of thieving and swindling in the crowded city, Gord shrugged the pleading query off. "Who can say what will come to pass, lads? I am no lover of battles, nor am I much skilled at the hunt… Let us see what we shall see."