"I'm not sure, Paks, but it might be a hool. I've never seen one myself, but I've heard."

"A hool?"

"Big, tough, stupid, dirty, likes to lair underground. If you can imagine a solitary giant orc—"

"I thought hools were water giants," said Ambros.

Arvid shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong. Whatever it is, it's dead. And we have just announced ourselves to the entire underground."

"I never did think trying to sneak in was a good idea," said Ambros. "Gird is not subtle."

Arvid raised one brow, and smiled. "No. That's why I'm not a Girdsman. But don't worry—now you'll have every chance for a suicidal frontal assault."

Paks had been poking gingerly through the trash heap that the creature had laired on. A copper armband gleamed; she picked it up. "Look. This is human-size."

"Hmm. Not worth much," said Arvid.

"No, but—I wouldn't have thought the robbers would throw it away."

"That's true. I—" Suddenly he stopped. They had all heard the sound: a rhythmic pounding, not loud, but distinct. Paks looked around. In flickering candlelight, she could just see a doorway across from the way they'd come in, and another door, closed and barred, centered the right-hand wall. Otherwise the room seemed empty.

"It's that door—the closed one," said Mal. He wrenched his axe free of the creature's backbone and started for it. Paks got there first, sword drawn. Arvid and Mal levered the heavy bars up and threw them aside. Then they pulled the door open.

Candlelight showed a small room, hardly more than a cell. A gnome, one shoe off, stood poised by the door; his shoe was in his hand, where he'd been pounding the door. Another gnome lay on the bare stone floor, covered in cloaks.

The standing gnome nodded stiffly and put his shoe back on. Then he addressed Paks in gnomish. She shook her head, and he frowned, then spoke in clipped accented Common.

"It is that you lead this rescue? Or do you claim us prisoners?"

"I—" Paks looked sideways at Arvid. He spoke.

"Lady Paksenarrion commanded us for the capture of the robbers, and now we have come to see what else hides in this keep."

The gnome bowed from the waist, and met Paks's eyes as he stood upright. "It shall be that you have the reward of the Aldonfulk, lady. For this indeed shall value be given. It is that our partner of Lyonya is eaten by that monster, true?"

"We haven't seen him," said Paks, thinking of the arm-ring with a shudder. "Is that what you think happened?"

"It took him. It seemed hungry. We heard cries. We could see nothing; I will not say what happened when I have not knowledge, but that is logical."

"Is your friend hurt?" The gnome on the floor had not moved.

"Only slightly—he was hit by arrow of robbers. He sleeps to gain strength."