"Do you think you can?" her sister asked.

Gunderal's violet eyes gleamed in a way that would be called a glare in a less beautiful woman. "You never think I can do anything."

"I am only asking."

"Zuzzara, I may not be as strong as you or as clever as Mimeri, but I can cast spells!"

"I only said…"

Gunderal stood in the shadow of her half-orc sister and stared up at her. "Well, don't, Zuzzara. Don't say another word! I know a thing or two about water magic."

"Unless you know how to kill destrachans, keep your voices down," Ivy finally intervened. "We need to think of some place that we could ambush the creatures."

"Those creatures hunt by sound more than anything else," Zuzzara said, peering through one archway into the chamber beyond.

"According to Archlis, they are blind," Ivy agreed. "And you saw the size of those ears."

"So what if we make a lot of noise and draw them into a narrow place like this," Zuzzara suggested. "Someplace where we could get above them. That might help."

They followed Zuzzara into a circular chamber with stairs running in spirals along the walls to higher openings. In the center of the room stood a small fountain with a trickle of water coming out of its cracked marble spouts. The water was very cold to the touch.

"There's our river," said Gunderal with satisfaction. "Or a branch of it at least."

"Forcing its way in through the old pipes first," said Mumchance. "The dwarves built well when they built this city, every time that they built this city."

"Strange place," said Ivy, looking around the tower of ancient Tsurlagol.

Gunderal ran up a few stairs and rested her hand against the wall. "It is some kind of watchtower, sunk by that weird earth magic that I've been feeling throughout the ruins. Remember the mosaic back in the bathhouse?"

"Odd or not, Zuzzara is right," said Mumchance. "It's a good place for a trap."

Zuzzara shrugged. "I may be ugly, but I'm not dumb."

The old joke made them all laugh a little, and then glance uneasily over their shoulders as the laughs bounced around the room.

Mumchance climbed up the stairs after Gunderal, peering here and there through the openings, swinging his lantern before him. Wiggles stopped before one doorway and let out one small sharp bark. Mumchance took a look and then called back down the stairs. "There's another tunnel. Looks like it runs straight back the way that we came, just higher up."

"Higher is good," said Ivy, watching the ancient fountain that bubbled in the center of the room.

"Now we need to attract the destrachans lower down," said Mumchance. "So the water covers them before it covers us."

"That was what I was thinking," Ivy said.

"Do you want me to use my eye?" The dwarf fingered his fake eye as if he were going to pop it out of his head. "An explosion should bring the beasts quick enough."

"Save that eye. We may need it later. I have a better idea," said Ivy with a wicked grin. "Everyone needs to get to higher ground first. Gunderal, go up to that platform where Mumchance is. Get as close to the exit as you can; you may need to run quickly."

Gunderal climbed to the ledge where Mumchance stood.

"Maybe you should call from inside that tunnel," Ivy suggested. The sound carried perfectly up to Gunderal on the ledge, but she shook her head.

"I need to see the water, Ivy, just to keep my spell anchored in this room."

"All right. Zuzzara, do you have that rope we found earlier?"

"Wound around my waist," the half-orc affirmed. "Do you need it?"

"Tie one end to my belt and get ready to haul me up when I yell. Now I am going to wait for the beasts to get here." Ivy cut off their anticipated arguments. "No, I stay on the floor here. I'm the bait. I'm going to keep them down here, and Gunderal is going to get that river to rise faster, so it's over their heads before they know what is happening."

"But what about you?" worried Zuzzara.

"I've got a few tricks," said Ivy, straightening the red leather belt around her waist so she could easily reach the silver buckle. "And if my tricks don't work, you are going to haul me up like a fish on line. As fast as you can."

"All right," said Zuzzara.

"And how are you going to get the beasts to come to you?" queried Mumchance.

"I am going to sing!"

"Oh, Ivy." Gunderal shuddered, and even Mumchance winced once they realized what she was intending to do. Both of them were fairly musical. Zuzzara, who had inherited her orc mother's taste for music (which consisted of exactly no opinion at all), just bobbed her head in a quick nod of agreement and began unwinding the rope around her waist. She started to thread one end through Ivy's belt.

"Don't tie the rope to that skinny red belt," Ivy instructed her. "Around my weapons belt. I don't want to pull the other one off." Zuzzara tied the knot where Ivy had pointed.

"Ivy, are you sure about this?" Gunderal asked, leaning perilously out so she could see her friend.

"Absolutely. Kid and I found a little extra magic back in the tunnels that is going to help." Ivy pulled off her gloves and secured them in her weapons belt. She placed her bare fingers on the winged serpent clasp of the magic belt that she had retrieved from the floating corpse. If it worked as it had before, she should be able to float right out of the creatures' reach.

"Wait one moment," Gunderal said, leaving the ledge and coming down the stairs with a quick patter of little feet across the stone steps. "Does anyone have a candle?"

"I don't need a candle," Ivy said, who had a lit torch in one hand and her sword in the other.

"But I do. Zuzzara, light this for me." Gunderal pulled one of the candles that they had looted from the bugbear out of her robes and handed it to her sister.

After Zuzzara had lit the candle, Gunderal held her hand beneath its drips until her fingertip was covered with wax. She reached out, touched Ivy, and said, "That should do."

"What's that for?" Ivy asked.

"We know the destrachans hunt by sound, but how can we know if they have a sense of smell? Perhaps not, but still, I think you will be safer without any smell."

"I have heard of wizards removing odor from smelly beasts and dead bodies, but come on, Gunderal, I don't stink that bad!" Ivy objected.

"Most beasts can pick up any scent, no matter how small, and now you have none at all."

Ivy grinned. "Great! I'll never have to bathe again!"

Gunderal said sadly, "It's a weak spell, Ivy. It will only last a short while."

Ivy shrugged. "I plan to finish those monsters quickly."

"Well, if you're actually going to sing, that should drive them mad," said Mumchance. The dwarf scooped up Wiggles and put the little dog in his pocket. He tugged on Gunderal's hand. "Come on, girl, you need to call that river."

As they climbed higher on the stairs, Zuzzara followed them, paying out rope as she went.

"Oh, how I am going to sing!" Ivy said to her friends' retreating backs. "I am going to sing every red-roof ballad that I've learned this summer. If those beasts are as sensitive to sound as Archlis said, they should come rushing to devour me before I get to the first chorus!"

Above Ivy, Gunderal began chanting, her call to the river echoing around the room The smell of water filled the air. Ivy waited until the river began to bubble faster through the broken spouts of the fountain, filling the basin and frothing over her boots. Then she stood with elbows out and fists on her waist, tilted her head back, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

"Procampur men are deadly dull, but Procampur girls are fancy loves." Ivy had never quite figured out all the more obscure slang in the chorus-a rousing ditty about ladies who switched their roof tiles to suit their loves-but Sanval had blanched the first time that he had heard her sing it and muttered something about "duels are being fought for lesser insults." Now Ivy pitched her voice loud and strong, to send the echoes clashing through the carved rock of the chamber. The sound reverberated even better than singing at the top of her lungs in the bathhouse back at the farm (a favorite trick for keeping the place all to herself and avoiding certain people fussing about whether or not she was rinsing her hair out properly).