He continued to watch the falls.

"Poor Fetch," she cooed. She fussed over the body, fighting back tears, then her thin fingers searched, tugging free the gold nose ring she coveted and thrusting it in her pocket. She found a few pearls and an uncut amethyst in a small pouch, the latter no doubt a souvenir from the valley of crystal. These, too, she claimed. Then she jerked free the pouch containing the old man pipe. Rig's hand shot out, surprising her, and his fingers closed around the pouch. The mariner took it from her and solemnly placed the pouch on the kobold's chest.

Dhamon moved to a section of bank several yards away. He waded into the water and began washing the rest of the mud from his clothes and hair, keeping his back to the dead kobold and keeping his shoulders square. His head was thrown back as he looked up into the mountains, the tops of which were obscured by the clouds. He rubbed his arms, trying to work some of the soreness out of them, and turned his neck this way and that.

"Gonna save these pretty baubles to remember poor Fetch by," Rikali said as she joined him and began washing the mud from her clothes and hair. "We'll keep them in the library on a shelf where all of our company can see them when they come to visit."

"You can't read," he said tersely. "What would you possibly want with a library?" He cupped his hand over his eyes to help keep the rain out as he continued to study the nearest cliff face.

"I'm very smart, Dhamon Grimwulf. I could learn to read," she said, tucking the amethyst and pearls into a pouch at her waist, retrieving the nose ring and pushing it on her little finger. She thrust her chin out defiantly. "You could teach me to read."

Dhamon pointed to a narrow trail. Water was running down the trail, and at first he mistook it for a stream. But there was a signpost next to it, and he decided that marked it as a road. "We can follow that back to Bloten. Rig?"

Rig was hunched over beneath a tree, using the blade of his glaive to scoop at the mud and dig a grave for the kobold.

"Now ain't that touchin'?" Rikali noted, glancing at the kobold's body, then at the mariner. "Thought they couldn't stand each other."

Dhamon was studying the trail. "Probably the shortest route, but it doesn't look like the easiest. We could take the long way around, but Maldred's probably well ahead of us, and I want to get back to Donnag's as quickly as possible."

"But Dhamon, I'm so tired," Rikali pleaded. "We been walkin' and swimmin' the whole night. It's so early in the mornin', probably not much past dawn. Can't we sleep for just an hour or two? Ain't slept in more than a day. And find us somethin' to eat. Please. I'm so hungry."

He paused for a moment, considering the idea. Then he shook his head and started off. The half-elf glanced over her shoulder. Rig was still working on the grave. Without a second thought, she hurried to catch up to Dhamon.

Dhamon and Rikali had difficulty climbing the slippery trail. They held onto the signpost and rocks to help them keep their footing. It was slow going, and occasionally the half-elf peered down at Rig, who was still busy.

"First I want to have a little chat with Donnag about this fool's errand he sent us on. Then I want to tell him about the little girl in the vision, the one that perhaps is causing all of this rain. He might know what it's about," Dhamon explained to the half-elf. "Of course, that information is going to cost him."

"Cost him a lot," Rikali said.

"I think it's raining ‘cause his last patrol killed some of the Black's spawn. A lot of them, according to that tale he told us at dinner. The rain is some kind of retaliation. I just don't know what precisely the little girl has to do with it."

"Lover, you can't be serious. It was a vision, a magical dream Fetch called up out of that pool. You don't even know if it's real."

"Real? The first vision showed us the way out, didn't it? I'd say that makes it real. Shrentak seemed real enough."

"A girl making it rain? Hah! I bet Fetch was asking it a different question, nothing about rain. That's what brought up the girl. I bet he was thinking about some place nice and warm and dry where he could find some sweet company and…"

Dhamon vehemently shook his head. "No. The girl is the cause. She's drowned out villages, one at the base of these falls. Knollsbank could well wash away, too. This rain is far from natural."

Rikali cocked her head and furrowed her brows. "Why'd anybody want to make it rain that much? Why'd anyone want to flood out villages of goatherders and farmers? Doesn't make sense."

"It does if you're a black dragon wanting to make your swamp bigger and seeking revenge."

They continued to pick their way up the trail, which in fact had become a widening stream now. They had to periodically grab onto rocks to keep their feet from slipping out from underneath them. Rikali glanced over her shoulder again. Rig was nowhere in sight.

"Besides, it was a little girl, not a black dragon," Rikali continued.

"Dragons are powerful, Riki. The dragon could take the form of a girl, or the girl could be the agent of a dragon."

"A little dragon girl? How do you know so much about dragons, lover? Must come from all that readin' you can do. You should teach me readin'. I thought you were through with dragons, anyway."

Dhamon let out a curt laugh. "I am through with them, Riki dear."

The half-elf beamed and worked to keep up with Dhamon.

"I don't want to have anything more to do with them.

But the information about the girl is valuable. I suspect the ogre will pay me a good bit of coin for it-in addition to the sword I want."

Rikali tittered and reached out to grab Dhamon's elbow. But her hands went flying as she stepped on a moss-slick rock and her feet shot out from under her. She landed with a smack in the center of the stream, sending water showering around her. Dhamon whirled to reach for her, but too late. She started to slide with the stream down the mountainside.

Rig had finally finished his task and was coming up from the base of the trail. He rushed and made a grab for Rikali, but only managed to tear her sleeve as she passed by pell-mell. Rig dropped his glaive and dove in after her. A moment later he surfaced and waved to Dhamon.

"Dhamon, you better get down here!" He was wiping blood away from a gash on her cheek. "She's hurt." There was blood on her forehead, too, and running from her nose. She moaned softly, her fingers and lips twitching. The mariner gently opened her lips to look inside her mouth. Two teeth were broken, the remnants of one buried inside her cheek. He tugged it out.

Rig gingerly prodded her ribs. "Nothing broken here. Dhamon!"

Dhamon hadn't moved. He stood a few dozen feet away, up on the mountain, watching them.

Rig continued to shout. "Heard you say something once about treating Knights on a battlefield! How about a little help? She's your girlfriend, after all."

"She only thinks she is," Dhamon said so softly Rig couldn't hear. He waited a moment before sliding down the trail to join Rig. "We don't have time for this… delay," he said, his voice heavy with irritation. He knelt over the half-elf and smoothed the hair away from her face. He thought she looked pretty, with her expression serene and her face devoid of the usual heavy makeup. He felt around her neck, turned her head this way and that, his ministrations as gentle as possible.

"She's okay," he told Rig. "Her head hit a rock, see?" He tilted her head slightly, showing the blood that stood out amidst her silver-white locks. "Nothing too serious. She's breathing regularly." He felt around the head wound. "She'll have a good-sized bump when she comes to." Then Dhamon stood up and held his hands to the rain, letting it wash away the blood. "And she will come ‘round soon enough. This rain will help." He turned and started back up the mountainside.