"Yes, that is, positively correct, I must say," Llewellyn responded, "and no, it is not. The key will not work without three stones set in the holes cut for them."

"Jewels?"

"No, not jewels, though that would be most attractive, perhaps even splendiferous. They are perfectly round jade stones, each with a dark stripe that runs around the perimeter."

The halfling whose foot had crushed Llewellyn's face into the mud of the river stepped forward and spoke. "Indio! We have such a stone!"

"Do we? Bring it forward. In fact, bring the sack that contains all our treasures."

The halfling did as commanded and handed Indio the sack. The leader poured out the contents between himself and Llewellyn. Indio fingered through the various gold pieces, trinkets, and small gems until he spotted what he was looking for.

"Is this it?" he asked Llewellyn, holding the green piece between two ringers.

"Does it fit in the key?"

Indio placed the stone into one of the circles on the key.

"By all that is holy, it fits-perfectly," cried the halfling.

"So it does," Indio added, "but it will not work, as our friend has said, without the other two stones. So of what use is it to me?"

Llewellyn smiled wryly. "You are too pessimistic, Indio the Black, my good friend." Undoing the drawstring of the leather sack on his belt and reaching into it, he added. "I believe the adage, once spoken by some person of undeniable wisdom at some distant point in the past, is 'one good turn deserves another.'"

Whereupon he held up an identical jade stone.

Indio's eyes lit up. "The second stone. I must have it."

"You could, I suppose, just steal it from me, Indio. But even though you are Indio the Black, I hope you will not do that, considering the injustice your followers have already perpetrated upon me. May I propose a trade?"

"What do you want for it?" Indio asked suspiciously.

"May I-I'm not a particularly skilled barterer, I must admit-peruse your plentiful plunder?"

Indio extended his hand, indicating his permission.

Llewellyn crouched over the items that Indio had poured between them, slowly and carefully slipping out of his robe the amulet he had already stolen. With a dexterous display of sleight of hand, he made it appear that he was choosing the amulet from the pile.

Better to acquire this… shall we say, legally… than perhaps have it found on me later, he thought.

"This amulet would do nicely, I must say."

Indio laughed. "You may have it. It is made of pure silver, but like this key, its decorative and maybe valuable stones have been pried off and traded, no doubt. What do you want with it?"

"Perhaps I will someday decorate it with stones of my very own choosing. And the amulet itself, a simple yet artful piece of craftsmanship, is handsome, don't you think?"

Indio shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so. Then it is a deal?"

"Almost."

"I knew there had to be a catch."

Llewellyn shook his head. "My good man, there is no catch, don't you know? Listen to me. I know who has the third stone, and where they are headed. If I help you acquire the third stone, do you agree to give me half of the treasure? After all, that would be only fair."

The whole camp laughed, but only Indio responded. "Ten percent. For it will be my troop and I who will, no doubt, have to… liberate… this stone."

"Twenty-five percent?"

"Fifteen."

"Twenty sounds reasonable to me. After all the abuse I've taken from your band, and my only taking this simple amulet…"

"Enough, Talkative One!" Indio said. "Twenty percent it is. But you must assist us in any way we deem necessary."

"Agreed."

"You have yet to tell me who it is that possesses the third stone."

"I believe you've heard of them. Most folks here and there know of them, I do believe."

"Them?"

"They are known as-although I consider the name a bit on the inane side-the Buckleswashers."

Indio slapped his own forehead in exasperation. "The Buckleswashers? That group of deceitful rogues who allow a gnome to travel with them? Aren't they from Water-deep? This is far from their base."

Llewellyn nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It is surely the vast wealth of the treasure that has brought them so far from home."

"You are certain it is they?"

"Not long ago, I had the misfortune of running into them. Talltankard, their leader, beat me senseless for no reason at all. That's why I sought your band. Though my interest lies in a share of the treasure, I also wish revenge against Talltankard, which I, by myself, could never exact."

"Indeed, brother Llewellyn. I, too, hate that Talltankard, the braggart. I, too, will enjoy meeting him and his disgraceful excuse for a band of adventurers. Now tell me where they can be found."

Llewellyn gazed into the blazing fire. "It is not that I do not trust you, my friend, Indio the Black. I cannot tell you that, for it is in a trader's interest to keep at least one item of barter in his sack."

"Then you will not tell me?"

"Better than that: I shall lead you to them-and to the treasure. Actions, they say-although, again, I do not exactly know who 'they* are-speak louder than words."

"Thereby assuring your indispensability," Indio said with a laugh. "You are indeed a shrewd man."

The two men again shook hands; then Indio called for food and drink and held the key high over the fire, watching the light twinkle from the green stones. Llewellyn sat quietly, planning how he would spend the fortune they would find in the mountains.

An hour later, Llewellyn was reclining on the ground under an elm tree, wrapped in a scratchy burlap blanket. But he hardly noticed the fabric. He knew that soon all would go his way.

In his semiconsciousness, he mused back on the most unusual two days just past. First, he'd had the misfortune of running into the Steadfast Order of Shortfellow Swashbucklers, better known throughout the Shining South as the Buckleswashers. They had been in the mountains north of the West Wall, seeking some ancient treasure. And since he was in the vicinity-and since Llewellyn the Loqua-cious's reputation was of a man of much valuable knowledge-the group delayed him and attempted to obtain information regarding the whereabouts of the lost treasure.

But, as usual, the Loquacious One was able to learn more than he taught. He told them he had heard of the treasure. He learned that a key containing three jade stones was necessary to unlock the treasure chest. He told them he had heard that the treasure was in this vicinity. He learned that they had found it; indeed, it was located in a cave barely a hundred yards from their present location. He told them he would assist them in finding the treasure. He learned that they had one of the stones, but not the key itself, nor the two additional stones. After many threats on the part of the Buckleswashers and many promises and vows on his part, they released him on condition that he would return in three days-or they would come looking for him.

Then he was summoned psionically to Zalathorn. Wordlessly, Zalathorn probed the Talkative One's mind and learned what he needed to know. The wizard, content with his store of riches, had no desire for this lost treasure. He provided Llewellyn with the full knowledge of the trea-sure, the key, and the three jade stones. Zalathorn thought it would be amusing to watch as the quest for the treasure unfolded before him. So he set Llewellyn in the vicinity of Indio Black's band of treasure-seekers.

And now, well, here Llewellyn was, content (relatively), sound (thankfully), and safe (miraculously). And almost (no-completely) asleep.

The next morning the troop awoke at the break of dawn, and by late afternoon, they were within a quarter mile of the treasure.