"Very dramatic. You died with style," Sanval said to the carcass, trying to regain his self-control. He stepped away from the beast and looked down at it. It was not the sort of battle to go home and brag about-not like besting a dragon or a famous orc warrior. The creature might have been destructive to his gear, yes, but dead it simply looked pathetic.

Shaking his head at the pile of rusted armor under the monster, Sanval assessed his remaining equipment. He emptied the crystals and stones from his boot, pounded it to knock loose any small bits, then pulled the tail of his silk undershirt out at his waist, and used it to try to rub his boot clean. Would his boots ever be bright again? Could he even ask Godolfin to polish them? And wasn't that the way it always went-he had used the boot that was not scorched across the toe. Now it, too, was thoroughly scuffed from beating it against the monster.

At least he had been wearing a linen shirt, padded vest, and leather pants under his armor. He shuddered to think what Ivy would have said if he had been left just standing in his silk underwear. She probably would have made up some song that would never, ever die in the red-roof quarter.

Sanval pulled on his leather boot, then brushed stone dust from what little was left of his armor. He finger-combed his dark curls, brushing back damp tendrils from his forehead. He looked in dismay at his hands, now covered with stone dust and rust. Deciding that was the best he could do, he started to march on down the tunnel.

And stopped and hopped and cursed as he pulled off his boot again. He muttered words that he would never say if anyone else were present. He had missed a very sharp bit of stone when he had shaken out his boot.

With his boot and his dignity restored, Sanval paused and listened. He could not hear the bugbears arguing. Had they gotten too far ahead? As quickly and as quietly as he could, Sanval hurried down the corridor. At least he knew that his sword would work just fine against bugbears. As for Archlis, if he put up any resistance, well, Sanval would just brain him with his own Ankh. In his present murderous mood, a full-frontal attack seemed like the most sensible plan that he had ever had.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ivy emerged from the staircase and blinked as she went from the darkness of the shadowy stair into the glowing corridor.

Behind her, Mumchance let out that soft half-sigh, half-whistle that can only mean one thing coming from a dwarf-that there was a fortune in raw gems surrounding them. He set down his sputtering lantern to better examine the strange corridor where they found themselves. Obviously others had come before them, as various crystals had been pried loose from the walls and littered the floor.

"Oooh, that is so ugly!" Gunderal squealed. The dainty wizard had just tripped over a large dead creature, sprawled over a rusty pile of armor.

"We better hurry, Ivy," said Mumchance. "The ground is getting unstable here."

"How do you know that?"

The dwarf pointed at the dead monster. A number of large crystals and smaller stones were scattered around the body. "Those must have fallen out of the wall and brained the creature while it was eating," said the dwarf.

"Lucky for us. One less thing for us to fight," said Zuzzara.

"Hey, doesn't that look like Procampur armor?"

"It's too rusty," said Gunderal. "Can you imagine anyone from Procampur letting their armor get into such a state!"

"Let's move," commanded Ivy. "That creature may have had friends, and we don't need any more trouble. Let's find Kid and get out of here."

"And what about Sanval?" Gunderal hopped neatly over the pile of rusted armor and gave Ivy a teasing look.

"Oh, him too."

"So there is still treasure in the ruins of Tsurlagol," said Mumchance, still checking the crystals studding the wall as he walked besides Ivy.

"Apparently. Funny that nobody ever looted this part."

"I think we are in the oldest bit," said Mumchance. "The most buried bit."

"What do you mean?" Ivy asked, picking her way carefully along the corridor. Besides the gems studding the walls and ceiling, more were poking up through the floor. It made the way rough, and tripping was a distinct possibility. Worse yet, there weren't enough clear flat bits to show any good tracks. Kid might have been able to see something, but Ivy didn't have his clever eyes and cleverer nose.

"Look at these tunnels, straight, narrow, and slanting down. This bit isn't some part of the city that sunk below ground. Someone chiseled this bit out of solid stone."

"Why?"

"Well, if they had bothered to take the rocks out of the walls, I would have said it was a mine shaft. But, as it is, and seeing what is in front of us, I think this is a tomb shaft," Mumchance said, halting before a pair of golden doors, emblazoned with the type of funeral scenes that they had seen earlier in the old city bath and in the ossuary. Only these scenes were much more finely wrought and studded with colored gems.

Above the funeral procession, the walls of a long-lost Tsurlagol tumbled down before a solitary figure with upraised arms. Again, the pictures showed a fantastic gem clutched in the man's hand, radiating out lines indicating some type of magical force. And above that were the runes for earth, sky, water, and emptiness that had decorated the floor of that odd trapped room. "I'd bet that this was the first time they made those pictures," said Mumchance, looking up at the doors, "and all the others in the ruins were just copies-what people remembered about these pictures."

"How about warnings?" suggested Ivy, still staring at the huge doors. She had never seen that much gold in one place. One door could probably buy an entire mansion in Procampur.

"Could be," said Mumchance, who also looked a little stunned by the sheer amount of gold that somebody had thought made an excellent door.

"Don't suppose they are just gold foil over wood," said Zuzzara, also blinking at the wealth on display. Gunderal was just tilting her head from one side to the other, seeing how her reflection looked in the polished gold panels.

"It's solid," said the dwarf, rapping the door with a heavy fist. "And too heavy for us to carry out."

At Mumchance's knock, the doors before them creaked half open, the lock neatly sprung. Wiggles jumped forward, squirming through the open doors ahead of the rest of them. "Charmed and mechanical," said Mumchance, stopping to peer at the lock in front of his nose. "But somebody went through it quick and clean. Must be Kid's work."

"That's why Archlis took him," Ivy said. "He needed Kid's talents to get through this door and any other locks he might encounter."

"Because he has no talents of his own." Gunderal sniffed. "Told you that it was all stolen magic and Kid's just another token to him."

"Still," said Ivy. "If Archlis needs Kid's talents, he should keep Kid alive until we can retrieve him." She looked back the way that they had come. Even with her human nose, she could smell river water.

"Ivy," said Gunderal, confirming her fears. "The river is coming closer. It will be in these tunnels soon."

"Then we go forward," Ivy said.

"And close the doors behind us," added Mumchance, clicking his fingers at Wiggles to bring the dog to heel. "Solid metal, dwarf-made, these should seal tight. That should keep the water out of this section for a while."

"But we can't go back." Even as Ivy voiced this objection, she realized that the doors were the least of their problems. With the river filling up the tunnels behind them, returning the way that they had taken into the treasure trove would soon be impossible.

More gems gleamed on the other side of the door. With Ivy's help, Zuzzara was able to drag the heavy golden doors closed again. With a firm click, the doors locked into place.