Jaelin had made them wait while he scouted the entrance into the mountain. Only when he was content it was secure did he fetch them. A rope tied around a tree was their route down into the crevice, and the icy pool of water that waited at the bottom.

  He had Mila and Rilie go first, conscious they would have to change into their normal clothes once they exited the water. At least this way they got a bit of privacy.

  He went next, descending the rope with speed. The water at the bottom was even colder than last time, threatening to steal his composure. He swam across to the ledge, doing his best to keep his bag from getting wet. Mila helped him clamber out.

  Shaking with cold, his fingers barely able to grip, he rubbed himself dry, then put on his undergarments, and finally his studded leather armour. His armour was a recent purchase. It maximised his defences, while retaining the flexibility he needed for movement and archery. Finally, he put his knife in his belt, and leant his bow on the rock wall behind him.

  “I’m still cold,” he complained.

  Mila leant in and kissed him on the lips.

  There was a tiny giggle at this.

  Jaelin felt warmth returning to his body. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll stay and help the others. How about you and Rilie check out the armoury? It’s that way,” he said, pointing to the north. The ledge they stood on ran the full length of the cavern, and exited at each end. “First on the right. Be careful.”

  “We will.”

  Randall was the next to descend, unflinching when he hit the water. His swimming wasn’t the best, and he looked exhausted when he reached the ledge. Jaelin took his bag which helped explain why—the axe and iron armour were a dead weight. He then managed to haul the dwarf out of the pool, and left him to get on.

  Lurin spluttered when he hit the water. Jaelin used the Rod of Light to signal to the dwarf which way to come. He splashed, making little progress. He groaned at the cold, the sound echoing around the cavern.

  “He needs to be quiet,” Jaelin hissed.

  Randall leaned over the pool and put a finger to his lips. His cousin quietened.

  “He’s a bit deaf,” Randall explained. “Sometimes he forgets.”

  They managed to get Lurin out without mishap. Larik was a more straightforward proposition, swimming powerfully for the ledge with minimum fuss.

  Last came Bletcher. As he watched the wizard drown, Jaelin knew he should have seen it coming. “I kind of forgot he only had one arm.” He sighed, readying to jump back into the pool to save him.

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  “It’s alright,” said Larik. “I’m not dressed yet.” He rescued Bletcher, holding onto the wizard with one arm and swimming with the other. Bletcher spluttered, but held on to the Staff of Warning.

  Jaelin and Randall reached down and got the pair out. There was a certain relief that this part of the mission was over, but Jaelin worried about the rest of it. He moved further along the ledge, giving them more space to get dressed, and waited for the return of Mila and Rilie.

  The pair were soon back.

  “Disappointing,” said the halfling, glaring at Jaelin like it was his fault.

  “There were a few orcish swords and such,” Mila confirmed. “But they’re large and bulky, and not easy to sell.”

  “Fair enough,” Jaelin said. The rest of the squad gathered behind him to listen. “At least now we know to focus on the throne room. When Wade found it, he went that way,” he explained, pointing to the southern stretch of the ledge. “Though I would not be surprised if we can circle around to it from the north as well.”

  “Better to go the way we know works,” Larik suggested.

  “Where is the tower?” Lurin asked, his voice alarmingly loud to Jaelin’s ears.

  Jaelin pointed north. “Why?”

  “Looked poorly built to my eyes. Reckon I could bring it down.”

  “A distraction?” Randall asked.

  “Aye. Reckon it’d clear out most of the bodies in that throne room.”

  “How long would it take you?” Larik asked.

  “Setting the explosives doesn’t take long. I’ll just need Randall to take lookout. I need to concentrate.”

  Larik considered it for a while, looking through his team as if measuring the contribution each could make. Jaelin wasn’t sure what exactly he was measuring. They had a few wild cards, that was for sure.

  “Alright. How about Bletcher goes with you? If something goes wrong, he may be able to help. The rest of us will get into place and wait for the distraction before we enter the throne room. If our plans change, we’ll send Mila to tell you. If it all turns to shit, get out the way we came in.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement, and the group divided. Mila led Jaelin’s group, putting a hand up as she neared the end of the ledge. She went on alone, and Jaelin’s nerves jangled as he waited for her return.

  “There’s a guard room on the left,” she told them when she reappeared. “I peaked inside. About half a dozen orcs.”

  “No patrol?” Jaelin asked her.

  “No. I don’t get the impression they have the numbers for that. We could wait for Lurin’s distraction, and hope they leave the room. Alternatively, Rilie and I could slip past and get into the throne room.”

  “But we don’t know if the throne room itself is occupied,” said Larik. “I say we wait.”

  Waiting, with patience, was a skill Jaelin had worked to hone, like any other. Rilie Rumblewind, it seemed, had not.

  She was a fidget. She swung her sling around endlessly, until Larik and Jaelin’s dark looks finally got through. Then she asked to borrow Mila’s knife, who smirked at her as if she was her spoiled, favourite child. The halfling proceeded to carve her name into the rock wall of the cavern. She then returned the knife, and, worst crime of all, proceeded to ask when Lurin’s explosion would happen. Not once. She asked again, and again.

  When the mountain shook, followed by a loud clap that sounded like thunder, it felt like the entire dungeon would come crashing down.

  “I think that’s our signal,” Mila said dryly. She disappeared around the corner, then returned to wave them on after her. “Some of them left to investigate the explosion.” The sound of collapsing masonry continued as they followed her east along the corridor. She stopped them before the guard room. There was no door, just a wide opening in the left wall of the corridor. It made it difficult to sneak past. Perhaps Mila could have done it. Not all four of them.

  Jaelin readied his bow. Larik hefted his mace. He signalled for Jaelin to stay in the corridor, guarding against orcs coming either way. They didn’t want to enter the guard room and end up trapped inside.

  With a grin, Rilie withdrew a stone from her pocket and placed it in her sling. Then, without warning, she wandered into the guard room.

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