Downfall

A scrabbling sound over the rocks indicated Fetch had finally decided to accompany them. "Still have my old man in my pouch," the kobold announced. "The tobacco's worthless, though." He picked it out and tossed it to the floor, adding to the debris.

"You're worthless," Rikali hissed at the kobold. She shuddered when she glanced down at a dozen skulls, all with protruding daggers. A few were small, kender, or perhaps human children. She hoped not children. Although she didn't care for dwarves, she was certain they wouldn't have done this. Not to children. But who would have been capable? "By my breath, that one had to have been a tiny baby." She paused to stare at a particularly tiny skull. "Who could've done such a thing, and why? Who…" She stopped herself. No use asking Dhamon, she decided, he didn't seem in the least bit interested.

Dhamon had stepped away from her, finally extricating his hand, and was climbing the narrow black steps. He glanced only perfunctorily at the pedestals. Standing at the edge of the dais, the green light haloed about him, casting a sickly hue across his skin and making his wet hair look like strands of seaweed. He moved near the center of the dais and stared at the floor. "Odd."

"What is it?" Rikali asked. She edged ahead of Rig, who was also moving toward the dais. "What? Is it valuable?"

Dhamon knelt and stretched out with his hand. Rikali scampered up the steps, settling herself next to Dhamon. Fetch was curious, too. The kobold, still wringing out his robe, arrived close on her heels.

"All right, what is it?" Rig found himself asking. "I don't suppose you've found a way out."

"No," Dhamon replied, pushing himself to his feet. He was still looking down at the dais, the prickly sensation persisting on the back of his neck. "And that's what we need to be looking for, not staring at this all day."

"It's beautiful," Rikali said. "I want to touch it, and…"

"Well, don't touch it," Dhamon sternly reproved her. "We don't know what it is or what it does, if anything. And we don't need to know. You want to live to see the morning? Then we need to get out of here. And I shouldn't've let myself get distracted."

"Beautiful," she repeated, reaching out.

"Don't touch it!" This from the kobold, who was pulling the half-elf's arm back. "Riki, stay away from it."

Rikali started to argue, but there was something about the kobold's uncharacteristically serious expression that checked her. What is it? she asked him with a cock of her head.

"It's magic," he answered. "And not necessarily the good kind." The kobold looked over his shoulder at Dhamon, then glanced down at Rig, who was standing at the bottom of the steps. "Supposed to be looked at, not touched. Not ever touched."

Dhamon and the kobold stood staring at it, Rikali stayed on her knees. The only sound in the chamber now was the rushing of the underground river.

"Fine," Dhamon said. "Let's leave it be and move on."

Rig shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "Aww, I guess I should take a look, first." He moved up the steps and slid between Dhamon and Rikali, extending a hand to help the half-elf up. "I'll be careful. Hmmmm. Interesting."

At the center of the dais was a pool, almost oval in shape. But light, not water, swirled inside it. One moment it was a dark green color to accompany the glow from the ceiling, then it turned sapphire blue, the colors undulating as if they were alive and warring. Sparkling motes of a bright yellow-white appeared, looking like stars captured deep in the pool struggling to breathe. They were all but overwhelmed by the aggressive colors.

"So what is it?" Rikali's curiosity had gotten the better of her. "I mean, it certainly looks like magic. You got a clue, Fetch? Or are you just tryin' to scare me? Bad magic, hah. You wouldn't know magic, good or bad, if it climbed out of a lamp and…"

"Hush!" The kobold paced around the edge of the pool, until he was standing opposite her. He was watching the yellow lights as they flashed and flickered with a pattern he seemed to comprehend. "This is old," he said in a voice tinged with awe.

"Pigs, I could have told you that, you worthless little rat."

He scratched at a wart on his diminutive palm, narrowing his eyes in concentration. "Not so old as the dwarven stuff, though, I don't think. Or maybe it just wasn't built as well. This here's the only thing left standing."

Rikali sighed. "Think anythin's at the bottom of the pool?" She was stretching out a finger, just to feel its wetness.

"I said, don't touch it! Don't think it would be a good idea. Just listen to me for once. All right?" The kobold edged away from the pool and retreated down the steps, studied the pedestals and murmured to himself in his native tongue. "With knowledge comes death," he whispered in the common tongue. Then he was off babbling in kobold again.