"All ‘cause of the Chaos War," the half-elf added.

"The ogres have a legitimate claim, since they roam freely over the rest of these mountains. The vale truly should be theirs."

"Tell that to the dwarves, Mai," Rikali whispered.

"But the ogres don't care to press the issue at the moment. They can't. They must direct their efforts against spawn and draconian and other minions of the black dragon who constantly encroach upon their time-honored territories."

"Why is this valley so damned desirable?" Dhamon asked.

"Wait until the sun comes up, lover," Rikali said. "You'll see, or so the tales say. All of us will see. And then all of us will die."

When they lay down, Rikali snuggled against Dhamon and rested her head against his chest. She told him to wake her at dawn if the dwarves hadn't found them before then. Maldred closed his eyes, too, but Dhamon could tell the big man wasn't sleeping. The knob in his throat was going up and down, his teeth softly clicking together, his fingers tracing intricate patterns in the dirt. Fetch glanced back and forth among the three of them, and occasionally, very nervously, poked his head out from behind the boulder. Dhamon dozed fitfully and briefly, keeping an eye on Mai and Fetch. When, hours later, the sun struck the top of the canyon walls, the kobold was the first to see and gasp in amazement.

Dhamon too found himself at an uncustomary loss for words. The stoical mask fell away and his face glowed with childlike wonder. He nudged the half-elf awake.

"Forget what I said earlier, Mai," Rikali said in a hushed voice. She shielded her eyes with her hand. "This was a glorious idea. Glad I followed you here."

Crystals of every imaginable color dotted the steep canyon walls, catching the light of the rising sun and reflecting it in near-blinding patterns. The valley was an immense dazzling kaleidoscope of shifting colors-shades of amethyst; a riot of peridots and olivines; mesmerizing quartz spires that sparkled rosy pink one moment, sky blue the next; diamonds that twinkled like ice; gems nobody could ever put a name to. The rocky mountains down which they had picked their way last night were laced with rubies and opals and tourmaline, and topaz shards and garnet and… all kinds of gems that wouldn't normally be found together but somehow were together. All in this Vale of Chaos.

The wind picked up as the sun inched higher. The breeze sounded like windchimes as it wound around the rocks, slipped down one side of the vale, and then up the other to warm the ground. It was a warmth that, as the day went on, would become miserable heat.

Dhamon found himself caught up in the pure beauty of the place. He shaded his eyes, then blinking and turning, he looked all around at the mesmerizing display of colors. Rare, priceless, bountiful, unending colors.

"By my breath. Paradise," said Rikali. She reached out toward a large green crystal and managed to close her fingers around it, just as Maldred grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her back.

"An emerald," Rikali said, turning it over in front of her wide eyes, oblivious to her scraped and bleeding knees. The rough gem was a few shades darker than the paint she had applied to her eyelids yesterday. "By my breath, I'm gonna have a jeweler cut it for me." She thrust it in her pocket and whirled on Maldred. The big man stopped her with a finger pressed to her lips.

"I've been here before, Riki," he began, "a few times- alone. Always before it was only my own neck I risked. There are patrols. I've seen them. They mainly cover the top of the vale, catching people who come down while the sun is out and they're readily visible. That's why we hid the wagon and horses."

"So that's why we came in at night," Fetch mused. His tiny eyes were flitting about, lighting on one patch of gems, then moving on to the next. His gaze was like a bee, never resting one place for any length and his breath was coming ragged from excitement.

"We can avoid the patrols," Maldred continued, "And the miners. But we have to be careful-very careful, and alert. Rikali's right. They will kill trespassers."

Rikali's fingers were in her pocket, the clawlike nails clicking against the edges of the emerald. "I can be careful," she whispered. "And I can be rich. Very."

Maldred nodded. "I don't care if some of these gems find their way into your pockets. Take whatever you can stuff in your pouches and clothes. But we're here first for Dhamon."

She shot Dhamon a curious look, turned back and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"We'll explain later," Maldred said.

"You'll explain now," she returned, her voice a little louder than she had intended.

"We need to harvest as much as we can from the vale," Maldred continued.

"And I will use our treasure trove to buy us something very old and even more valuable. Something that will tremendously profit all of us," Dhamon added.

"I can't imagine more profit than this."

Maldred softly chuckled. "Then Riki, you don't have much of an imagination."

She scowled and looked again at Dhamon, who was preoccupied by the shimmering beauty of this place. Her expression softened as she smiled wistfully. "For Dhamon, then. Anything for Dhamon."

"And ultimately for us," Maldred added. "We load up our sacks with the finest gemstones, hide behind boulders until it's dark, then carry everything back to the wagon. Two days of this, we don't want to press our luck for longer, and the wagon will be reasonably full and we'll be on our way to Bloten."

"Blode's lovely capital, in the heart of ogre land," Rikali hissed, her sarcastic voice less caustic than usual. She edged closer to Dhamon. "What could the ogres possibly have that you want, lover? And why haven't you told me about it?"

"Because you can't keep secrets, dear Riki."

"Now let's get to work," Maldred advised. "And remember, be careful." He crept out from behind the boulder and headed farther down into the valley, trying to hide behind outcroppings and large spires as he went.

He stopped to squat between a pair of natural granite columns which were flecked with chunks of aquamarine. Glancing about, he dug the tips of his fingers into a patch of loose soil between them. A hum came from deep in his throat, high in pitch, the sound resonating musically off the columns and accompanying the wind. His fingers stirred the dirt, then suddenly his right hand started clawing, digging a hole and uncovering a chunk of rare pink topaz as big as his fist. Nudging it aside, he continued to hum and dig, finding more and more, keeping up his enchantment until he was fatigued. Leaning against a column to regain his energy, he took a deep pull from his waterskin, practically draining it. Then he opened a canvas sack and carefully filled it with the precious crystals he had unearthed.

Fetch went in another direction, making sure he could keep the big man in sight for a sense of security. The kobold was small enough to easily hide behind jutting rocks, and he picked up pieces of crystal as he went, turning them over to check for imperfections. He quickly discarded the ones that didn't meet his considerably high standards. The pockets of his sky blue pants were bulging before long, and well before he started filling up his canvas sacks.

Rikali motioned Dhamon to follow her. "I know what's valuable, lover. ‘Course so do Mai and Fetch. By my breath, but this is all so wonderful." She took his hand, her clawlike nails softly raking his palm, and tugged him southward. "All of this has worth. But some crystals are superior." She pointed at a crevice, and they quickly made their way there. Partially hidden by the shadows, she inhaled deep, thinking the air much sweeter in this place, and leaned her back against Dhamon's chest, her head turning from right to left to watch the colors dance. "Good thing Mai hadn't told me we were comin' here," she confessed. "I truly wouldn't have gone along with it. I wasn't foolin' him. I wouldn't have followed even you here, Dhamon Grimwulf." She grinned at Dhamon. "But I am glad we're here. Amazin'. I don't believe the dwarves should have this all for themselves, don't believe the ogres need it either. Can't none of them ugly lookin' folks truly appreciate this beauty. They're warlike and mean-tempered people, they are, and they don't deserve anything this exquisite."