"A product of the Chaos War," she told him, "or so the tavern tales say." The half-elf nodded to indicate some gems that protruded from the ground, which she stopped to pick up and examine and thrust in her pocket. She discarded only a few. "During the war they claim this vale burst with priceless crystals. Oh, dwarves and ogres had been minin' it before then, findin' some opals and silver now and again and fightin' over them more because they were fightin' to expand their home territories. But there was no real reason for all o' these gemstones comin' to the surface when they did. I guess the gods must have did it before they left, wanted to really give the dwarves and ogres somethin' to tussle about." She waved her hand and sighed. "So beautiful."
"And…" Dhamon's voice cracked as his throat was going dry. Rikali was right. The scale on his leg had started to tingle, and he fought against the sensation, concentrated on the shimmering crystals to keep his mind occupied, tried to focus on her voice.
"The dwarves claimed the vale, of course, and the ogres claimed it, too-just like Maldred said. But this rocky hole is in Thoradin, dwarf country. Now, Blode wraps around Thoradin like a glove. And the ogres run all of Blode. So who knows-or cares-who it really belongs to." She cupped her hand around a chunk of topaz. "But, like Mai will tell you, there're plenty more dwarves than ogres, and the ogres have the black dragon and her spreadin' swamp to worry about, too. So the runty dwarves're winnin' this particular turf war. And accordin' to every tale I ever heard, the dwarves do indeed have an army guardin' this place. Greedy little hairy men." She spat at the ground. "I've had my fill of dwarves, I have."
"What do they do with all these gems?" Dhamon forced the words out, then he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
"The dwarves export gems and minerals to Sanction and Neraka and are gettin' steadily richer. Miserly little toughs, they are. But they're careful not to take out too much at a time, keepin' the price for gems and such still horribly high. They put too many on the market, and the gems're just not worth as much-supply and demand and all, you understand."
Dhamon nodded. He was sincerely interested in Rikali's story, but it was getting more difficult to hear her. His leg was burning. The pounding of his heart was filling his ears.
"Regular folks stay far away from here-and for good reason. I had friends tell me about corpses of trespassers staked out around the vale entrance. Some twisted and mutilated, barely recognizable to their kin. Heads on poles." She shuddered and made a face. "I don't want to die, lover, but if I'd have known the tales didn't do this hole in the ground justice, I would have risked my life a dozen times over before now. This is worth the risk."
She stooped again, her clawlike fingers digging into the scree at her feet. Giggling, she tugged free a rose quartz crystal the size of an apricot. Rikali held it up so the sun would catch its natural facets, held her breath and stared at it a moment, then exhaled with a soft whistle and quickly put it in her pocket. "Not especially valuable, that one, a little too milky. But it's a very pretty shade, and I fancy it cut just right and polished and hangin' on a gold chain around my neck. Follow me, lover, and I'll show you how to spot the good pieces, the ones that'll cut the best. I'll teach you how to picture ‘em all finished and more beautiful than they are now. Teach you how to look for flaws."
Dhamon didn't move. He had wedged himself into the crevice and slammed his eyes shut. "I'll catch up with you, Riki," he managed to gasp. "You go on ahead and find the best crystals."
The half-elf stopped chattering, her shoulders sagged, and she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You made it nearly five days, lover, without one of these spells. Some day you'll beat it." She held him tight and felt his body tremble, a sympathetic tear sliding down her face. "You will beat it," she told him. "I just know it. Everything will be all right. Here, concentrate on this."
She held the rosy gem in front of his face, turning it this way and that as if to hypnotize him. He tried to fixate on it, staring unblinking, telling himself how beautiful it and Rikali were, how beautiful this vale was. But the heat on his leg, increasing now, was concentrated on the scale, and it was somehow worse, different from the times before.
He tried to swallow, but found his throat had gone utterly dry. He tried to move and found himself paralyzed, the strength vanishing from his legs.
"Lover?" the half-elf asked.
Dhamon reached for his thigh, where the scale was covered by the expensive black trousers gained from the merchant robbery. "Ow!" He pulled his fingers back. It was hot, practically scalding! He doubled over from the pain. "Riki…" was all he managed.
