"I hate those things," muttered Mumchance, who still had a few scars from his previous encounter with the dwarf-activated dread.

"They're mindless, at least," said Gunderal. "They'll only fight what they are told to fight. Sort of like you, big sister."

"Ha-ha. So what about those three? Do we rescue Sanval first? Or get rid of the dread?" asked Zuzzara.

"We really can't afford to lose any more weapons," Ivy said. "Fairly soon, we'll be down to chucking stones. I would rather dismantle the bones than shed any blades that we have left." She gave the fight ahead of them a cool look. "Sanval's doing all right. Let's get rid of the dread first. It's upsetting those bugbears-look at them snarl and whine. And a frightened, upset bugbear is a big, hairy problem."

A dread always cast an aura of fear. As Ivy had learned in previous encounters, that fear could be ignored if you knew what was causing it. But if you didn't know what was causing it, that creeping feeling of terror could shake your confidence. The bugbears obviously didn't know why they were feeling so panicked, and that was making them fight all that much harder. Their huge ragged ears twitched, their tiny eyes narrowed to pinpoints, and their bear noses quivered. One of the bugbears had clenched his jaw so tightly he had thrust a pointed fang through his own lip, and a fine line of blood trailed down his chin and dripped over his matted chest. He brushed at it where it fell onto his shiny breastplate, dulling the gleam, and let out a low growl of frustration. In one clawed hand he clutched a glaive, and with the other he pulled his dagger from its scabbard. He hunched forward and swung wildly at the dread with the knife.

The dread lifted its arms and made a quick downward slice that missed the bugbear's sword but clipped against the loose chains hanging from the bugbear's shoulders. The blow did no harm other than rattle the chains and clang loudly. The bugbear let out a howl of anger; or was that fear? He jerked in a clumsy turn on his clawed feet, and the chains spun out around him, banging against the wall but missing the dread. It floated up and away, then paused beyond the bugbear's reach.

"Suggestions?" said Ivy.

"Break the dread's hold on its sword," said Gunderal. "That should weaken the spell. Might even dispel it."

Ivy looked at the arm bones floating in front of her. They were very skinny. A slow, wicked grin crept across her face. "Hey, Wiggles, come on, come on. Let's play fetch!" Ivy shed her knife, the only edged weapon that she had left, and skipped toward the arm bones, waving the little dog on.

"Ivy!" shouted the dwarf as his dog went racing after her, attracted by Ivy's whistle and "come hither" gestures.

Wiggles danced on her back paws, her fluffy white tail beating back and forth in an eager wag. As neither the dog nor the woman carried any type of edged blade, the dread ignored them. Ivy lunged for the bones and grabbed the nearest forearm. She punched down on the slender bones with her mailed gloves. As with most dreads, the thing was too tough to break, but she forced it near to the ground. Wiggles immediately leaped forward and clamped her sharp little teeth around the nearest wrist bone. She growled, backing away and dragging the dread after her. With no command laid upon it regarding small dogs with sharp teeth, the dread just went bumping after Wiggles, its sword still scraping behind it.

Ignoring the tough old bones, Ivy jumped directly on the rusted blade, landing hard on her boot heels. Unlike the bones, the blade was not magically immune to breakage. It cracked and crumbled under her feet. She stomped a few more times. The bony hand now held only the remnants of a rusted handle, a weapon that posed no danger to anyone. Wiggles still growled and tugged at the bones. She had hooked one paw over the hand bones in an attempt to hold them down for better chewing. With her sharp little teeth, she finally worried free a thumb bone. As soon as it snapped off, the entire dread broke into a shattered pile of bones. Ivy shuffled through the pile, scraping her soles along the floor, and quickly scattered the pieces as far apart as possible. She glared at the bones for a moment, but they remained only broken bits on the floor with no flicker of magic trying to paste them together.

With the dread no longer attacking him, the largest bugbear, Osteroric, whipped around and tried to brain Sanval with his glaive. Ivy shouted for her knife. Zuzzara grabbed it and flipped it blade over handle to her. Ivy caught it with one mailed hand. She took a running jump and flung herself at the bugbear, kicking with both feet at the creature's knee.

The impact sent a shock of pain through her injured toe, and Ivy screamed in a mix of anger and aggravation. More startled by the scream than injured by her kick, the bugbear tripped and rolled with Ivy on top of him. She dropped her knife and wrestled the glaive out of his hands. She used the long pole to swing herself upright, turning it again to swing the iron ball hard against Osteroric's chest. The ball rang against the shiny breastplate that Osteroric wore and knocked him flat. The bugbear waved his furry hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Peace and parley, peace and parley. Don't dent my new breastplate," he wheezed. "Pull your friend off Norimgic before he harms him."

"Sanval!" Ivy shouted. He ignored her, matching dueling sword against glaive with the snarling Norimgic. "Hey, Sanval, stop!

When Sanval ignored her commands and continued to battle Norimgic, Ivy realized the spell of the dread was still upon them, terror driving them to fight with mindless fury. She thrust the glaive between Sanval's legs, tripping him and sending him rolling off to one side. Norimgic tried to follow, but she shoved the glaive's blade against his throat. "Back off," she said, pricking the bugbear's skin enough to draw blood. "He's mine to kill, if I want to."

Norimgic turned his head and looked at the blood pooling in the hair on his shoulder, blinked his tiny eyes, flattened his ears against his skull, and whined in the same tone that Wiggles used when she knew that she had been a bad dog. Ivy eased off on the pressure of the blade balanced against his throat.

"Fighting females," said Osteroric, scrambling upright and dusting off his breastplate with gentle, concerned strokes. "You should never argue with them."

Ivy reached past the bugbear, grabbed Sanval by the back of his neck, pulled him upright, and shook him until his feet were firmly planted under him. Then she glared at him. She noticed his dark hair was amazingly mussed-the black curls were dusty, streaked with rust, and sticking up in all directions. She looked him over more carefully and frowned. "Aren't you missing something? Shiny stuff?"

Sanval managed a growl.

Ivy felt like she could stand there all day hanging on to Sanval, but she really had other things to do. She settled on a way to keep him out of trouble until she could get them above ground. She shoved him into the arms of a bugbear.

"Hang onto him. Tight," Ivy instructed Osteroric. "Now, where's Archlis? I want to get out of here."

A little cowed by her tone, Osteroric gestured to the archway in front of them. "He went into the crypt. He took the other one with him."

Turning to Sanval, the bugbear held the Procampur captain at arm's length, stared at him, and said, "You have nothing much left to trade, you know that?"

Sanval's growl deepened.

"Good thing I got that breastplate when I did. Did you lose your other stuff? I would not have thought of you as careless."

Sanval pulled his lips back from his clenched teeth and hissed. The bugbear gave him a wary look and stopped talking.

Ivy strode through the archway formerly guarded by the dread and entered the crypt. Its walls shone with the reflected glitter of countless gems, and patterns of light danced across the arched ceiling. Ivy stopped, turned slowly, and stared at her surroundings. It was like being inside a treasure chest. But that wasn't why she was here, she remembered, and she forced her attention back to her job.