“That was an easier lock. This has two tumblers instead of one, and I think there’s some kind of button in the back that needs to be pressed.”

“Try again,” Barius said. He shook his head. “We’ve dragged you through half this accursed place, and on the two occasions we require your help, you fail us.”

“I’m sorry to interfere with your great quest. Next time bring a key instead.” She punctuated every third word with a vicious jab at the lock. When that still didn’t work, she grabbed Jig’s wrist. “Hold this.”

She pressed the stronger rod into his hand, keeping the slender pick for herself. “Place the bent end into the lock and twist toward me. There are two tumblers in there, and I can’t get both of them at once. I’m going to try to rip the lock.”

“What?” He had an image of Riana tearing the door loose with her bare hands. Darnak might be able to do it, but he couldn’t see Riana succeeding, no matter how strong elves might be.

“It’s a thieving trick. I’m going to yank the pick past the tumblers and hope it knocks them both up long enough for you to turn the lock.” She adjusted the rod in Jig’s hand. “There, like it’s a key. I’ve got the end pressed against the button in the lock. Hold it still, and keep pressing sideways. If this works, the tumblers will bounce up, and you need to turn the lock before they fall.”

He squinted, trying to bring the lock into focus in the dim light. The least Barius could do was bring the lantern closer.

“Not that tight,” Riana said. “Didn’t you see how I held it before?”

“I don’t see very well,” Jig muttered.

“Oh.” She grabbed another lockpick from her kit, this one with a smoother bump on the end. “The elves make lenses that would help. Jewelers use them a lot. Sometimes they sell them to old rich humans whose eyes are starting to fail.”

“Sure,” Jig said. “I’ll remember that the next time I pass through an elven jewelry shop.”

Riana ignored him. She slid the pick in past Jig’s fingers, took a deep breath, and jerked it free. Nothing happened. “Too hard,” she muttered. She tried again, and again.

The fourth time, it worked. The rod in Jig’s hand turned, surprising him so much he dropped it. He winced, waiting for Riana’s explosion. But that first quarter-turn was enough. She picked up her tools and finished opening the lock.

“Back up,” she said. Once Jig was clear, she yanked the door open and shot Barius a look comprised of equal smugness and annoyance. Blinking innocently, she asked, “Will there be anything more, Your Majesty?”