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twenty paces,” he explained to Pikel. “So that I can call to yerself, and ye can call to Cadderly.”
    Pikel’s head bobbed in agreement, and Ivan started for the hole. He considered it for just a moment, then removed his helmet and tossed it to Cadderly.
    “Ivan,” the young priest called, and when Ivan turned back, the young priest tossed him a short metallic tube.
    Ivan had seen this item, one of Cadderly’s many inventions, before, and he knew how to use it. He popped off the snug cap on its end, allowing a beam of light to stream forth. There was a disk inside the tube, enchanted with a powerful light-giving dweomer, and the tube was really two pieces of metal. The outer tube, near the end cap, could be turned along a corkscrew course, lengthening or shortening the tube, thus tightening or widening the beam of light.
    Ivan kept the focus narrow now, since the tunnel was so constricted that the broad-shouldered dwarf had to often turn sideways to squeeze through, so narrow that Pikel reluctantly gave Cadderly back his wide-brimmed hat before entering.
    Cadderly waited patiently for many minutes, his thoughts lost in the anticipated confrontation with Dean Thobicus. He was glad when Pikel reappeared in search of rope, knowing then that Ivan had made it through the tightest of the tunnels and had come to the vertical shaft that would take him to the same level as the dragon treasure.
    Twenty minutes later, both dwarves came bobbing out of the hole, Ivan shaking his head.
    “It’s blocked,” he announced- “I can get down to the big room under the shaft, but there’s nowhere to go from there. I’m thinking we might be better in trying to cut through that front door.”
    Cadderly blew a deep sigh.
    “I’ll call for me kin,” Ivan went on. “Of course, it’ll take’em the bulk of the next two seasons to get down from Vaasa, and then we’ll have to wait for the next winter to blow over…”
    Cadderly tuned out as the dwarf rambled on. By conventional means, it might take years to extract the dragon treasure, and the delay would bring about some unexpected obstacles. Word of Fyrentennimar’s demise would spread fast throughout the land, and most of the peoples in the region, of races both good and evil, knew that the dragon resided in Nightglow Mountain. The fall of a dragon, especially one that had sat for centuries on a legendary treasure hoard, always brought scavengers.
    Like me, Cadderly thought, and he chuckled aloud at the self-deprecating humor. He realized then that Ivan had stopped talking, and when he looked up, he found both dwarves staring at him intently.
    “Fear not, Ivan,” Cadderly said, “you’ll not need to summon your kin.”
    “They would take a bit o’ the treasure for their own,” Ivan admitted. “By the gods, they’d probably set up a keep right inside the mountain, and then we’d be hard pressed to get a single copper outta them!”
    Pikel started to laugh, but caught himself and turned a stern look on Ivan, realizing that his brother was serious, and probably correct.
    “I’ll get us into the mountain, and well have plenty of help from Carradoon when the time comes to take out the treasure,” Cadderly assured them both. “But not now.”
    The young priest let it go at that, thinking that the dwarves need know no more. His next task, he knew, was to get to the library, to put things spiritually aright. Then he could concentrate on the treasure, could come back here rested and ready to clear the path magically for the foragers.
    “This place is important to ye,” Ivan remarked. Cadderly looked at the dwarf curiously, more for the tone Ivan had used than the specific words.
    “More important than it should be,” Ivan went on. “Ye always had money, particularly since ye penned that spellbook for the frantic wizard, but ye never seemed to care so much for money.”
    “That has not changed,” Cadderly replied.
    “Eh?” Pikel squeaked, echoing Ivan’s sentiments