Taen smiled at the halfling's words, though in truth he wasn't sure the fighter had been entirely joking. "Come," he said, ushering Roberc and Borovazk back to the chimney in the rear of the tunnel, "we probably don't have too much time before another patrol stumbles upon us."

He tried to ignore the wide-eyed stare Yurz threw his way as they waited beneath the dark hole, but the goblin remained at the periphery of his vision. "Friend of Pretty Lady great wizard," he said finally, after Taen had spent considerable time pretending the goblin wasn't there and wishing that Marissa would soon emerge from the chimney. "Maybe greater than tribal shaman," he finished.

The half-elf was spared having to respond, as Marissa's rope spilled out of the chimney's darkness, landing with a muted thump on the cold gray stone of the tunnel floor. He turned and urged Yurz up the rope. The goblin stared a moment longer then leaped on to the rope, scurrying up its knotted length with the grace and skill of a seasoned seaman climbing the rigging of a tall-masted ship. Borovazk followed soon after, though the ranger needed some help sliding through the initial hole in the ceiling.

Taen and Roberc conferred for a moment regarding Cavan. The war-dog gazed up at the hole then offered Roberc a crooked stare, as if measuring the probability of a successful ascent. Taen thought for a moment. They had been in a few spots like this in previous underground explorations, but none quite so physically daunting. He did know a spell that would help reduce the war-dog's size, which might make the dog more manageable as they hauled him up the chimney. Their success depended upon Cavan's patience and cooperation, however.

A few moments later, with the help of Roberc's firm-voiced commands, a much smaller Cavan stood still and, if an animal could experience such a thing, bewildered as several lengths of rope were coiled and tied around its front- and hindquarters. Taen watched as their companions above lifted the war-dog, now the size of a large puppy, up through the chimney. When that was accomplished, the half-elf followed the always-grumbling halfling up the rope and into the caverns above.

The ogres stood like ancient trees rooted to the rough stone of the cavern floor. In the dancing light of his arcane illumination, Taen could see their dull yellow skin cracked and pitted like old bark. Both of the creatures' mouths hung open, frozen in mid roar. Teeth as thick and long as his fingers glimmered in the shifting illumination.

Roberc whistled softly when he drew near the half-elf. "You did this?" he asked, turning to Marissa. The druid had long since shed her arachnoid form and sat quiet and still in the center of the cavern.

She nodded. "They were arguing over something just a few yards from the chimney hole," the druid said. "I didn't want their argument to draw any unwanted attention, so I crept up on them and changed form. I was going to try and use a different spell, when this"-she lifted the Staff of the Red Tree-"began to whisper to me again. I heard the words and repeated them. In moments, the ogres were petrified."

Taen shook his head. He'd seen his way around enough items and artifacts of power to know that the gift of the Rashemi telthor was unusual to say the least. In point of fact, Taen felt a great sense of unease around the staff-an experience that worsened any time Marissa described the staff's somewhat conscious actions. He had never been comfortable with the untamed power of natural magic; it refused to follow established laws and yield to the mastery brought on by rigorous study. Though he did not feel even remotely suspicious of the telthor and their gift of the staff, such power answered to its own laws.

At this moment, however, Taen said nothing. There were times to engage the enemy with persuasive rhetoric and razor-sharp logic-but wandering through a maze of caverns on your way to assassinating an evil witch bent on wide-scale domination and destruction was not one of those times. Once again, he would wait until after they had completed their mission before speaking to the druid.

Not that it would matter in the slightest, he thought with a bit of acrimony and turned to search for their guide. Yurz, who had nearly gibbered himself into apoplexy at the sight of the ogres, had finally regained some of his goblinoid poise. Now the creature stood at an opening in the far northern section of the huge cavern, beckoning with his bony fingers.

"Pretty Lady, come," he hissed. "Path to man-castle go this way."

Marissa and the others turned from their measured contemplation of the petrified ogres and marched dutifully after the goblin. Taen gave the high-ceilinged cavern one last glance before following his friends.

Chill air blew steadily through the passages and side tunnels of the upper caverns, carrying with it a deeper bite. As they progressed, Taen watched his breath coil upward in white plumes. Here and there, moisture running down the cold, gray walls of stone curdled and formed a thin layer of ice. Even Borovazk, seemingly immune and inured to the temperature extremes of Rashemen, pulled out another fur shirt to ward himself from the deepening cold. That fact brought Taen a little comfort as he fought his teeth's chattering.

With Yurz leading them, they traversed for quite some time through what seemed like an endless expanse of hidden caves, shadow-filled tunnels, and sloping passages that threatened to trip the unwary with rocky protuberances and rough, uneven ground. Taen stumbled a few times, cursing the weariness that grew within him at each step. Their battle with the wyverns, the distance they had covered, and the stress of moving like shadows in the territory of the enemy were taking their toll. Finally, after he had knocked his shin against a stalagmite for the third time, Taen called a halt.

"We have to rest," he explained. "We'll do no good if we arrive in the citadel too exhausted to deal with the traitor." The others nodded, and Taen could see by the weary expressions on their faces that they were happy to agree.

"So we rest now?" Yurz asked. At Marissa's acknowledgement, the goblin began to hop from foot to foot. "Excellent," he exclaimed. "Yurz know perfect place to take friends for rest. Follow."

With that, the goblin skirted into a small side passage no more than four feet across. Taen and the others followed as quickly as they could. As they moved, the half-elf noticed that the surrounding air temperature grew warmer. By the time they had reached the tunnel's destination-a large circular grotto nearly thirty feet in all directions-steam wafted up into the air.

Marissa practically cooed with delight as she stepped into the cave. Taen wondered what could have made the druid so excited until he, too, entered the grotto. Glimmering stones and crystal of almost every color imaginable scintillated and flashed in the light of his arcane spell. It was as if the very stone of the earth were aflame, burning with jeweled incandescence. What's more, the half-elf noted that the tunnel spilling into the room thinned, transforming into a small ledge that circled the entire grotto. Below it, a still pool of water filled the rest of the cave. Steam drifted upward from the surface of the pool like the trickle of smoke from a sleeping dragon's nostrils.

The warmth felt good, a blessed relief from the constant cold threatening to suck the very breath from Taen's lungs. He couldn't help but let out a sigh of pleasure as the heated cavern air covered his body, wrapping the half-elf in its warm embrace. He dropped his pack and sat down on the hard ground, stretching legs cramped from the day's exertions. He could see the others doing the same thing.

Yurz remained standing, a wide-mouthed grin splitting the harshness of his face. "Friends like resting place?" he asked.