When Tavis nodded. Basil opened his satchel and pulled a hammer and steel chisel from it. He selected a flat rock, then set the chisel blade on it and began to tap.
While Tavis waited for the runecaster to finish, he slipped his bow over his shoulder. After a quick glance at the waists of his companions, he motioned at Avner's belt.
"Let me see that," he requested.
The youth promptly undid his buckle and handed the belt over."What do you want with it?"
"You'll see."
The belt was surprising new, made of black-dyed cowhide as stiff as shoe leather. Tavis slowly flexed the strap back and forth. It was almost too rigid for what he had in mind, but its bulk could turn out to be an advantage. The scout detached Avner's dagger scabbard and returned it to the boy, then grabbed a rock and began to pound the belt to make it more flexible.
"Hey!" Avner objected. "That's a new belt!"
"And where did you come across a new belt?" Tavis demanded. "I don't recall making it for you, and we certainly didn't have the spare coins to buy it."
"Forget it." Avner sighed. "There's always more where that came from."
This time, Tavis looked up. "There'd better not be."
The firbolg resumed his work, pounding each section of belt until the leather grew as soft and flexible as cloth. Beside him, Basil continued to tap his chisel, filling the air with a soft chime as erratic as a bell swinging loose in the wind.
Runolf's voice sounded from the other side of the notch. "Whatever you're doing. Tavis, it won't work," he called. The words were difficult to make out, for the yowling wind softened the consonants and swallowed the vowels. "My spirit serves Goboka, and only his death will release it."
Basil looked up. "That's fine with us," he said, speaking more to Tavis and Avner than to Runolf's head. "What we have in mind has nothing to do with freeing you."
The verbeeg put his hammer and chisel back in his satchel, then showed Tavis the stone he had been working on. The glowing rune etched on its face was surprisingly simple, just three blue lines capped by a white crescent.
"I'm holding it upside down," Basil said. "When you turn it over, it'll set the whole hill to sliding."
Tavis raised his brow. "And if I turn it over again?"
"It'll stop the landslide-but I don't know how quickly," the verbeeg replied. He handed the runestone to Tavis, then added. "I suggest you be very careful."
Tavis smiled. "This should work fine." With the runestone in one hand and Avner's belt in the other, he inched up toward the notch. "I'll go over and bring Runolf's head under control. Wait here until then, but be ready to paint the rune that gives you control over undead."
"I'm coming with you," Avner announced.
Tavis shook his head. "This is too dangerous-"
"If it's so dangerous, we should just bury him," Avner said.
"I can always do that later." Tavis replied. "I'll let the avalanche take him if I get into trouble."
"With two of us, you'll be less likely to get into trouble," Avner countered. When Tavis showed no sign of yielding, the boy's eyes grew hard, and he added. "You can let me come with you or after you. We'll stand a better chance if we work together."
Remembering how well the youth had obeyed his orders to wait at the Weary Giant, Tavis reluctantly acquiesced. "Then take this." He passed the boy's belt back. "Runolf will concentrate on me, so you'll have a better chance of actually reaching him."
"That makes sense," Avner replied. He held the battered belt up. "But what do I do with this old thing once I get there?"
"I should think that would be obvious." Basil said, "Use the belt to blindfold him until I can paint my rune on his forehead. If he can't see, he can't perform the task for which he was created, and his link with the shaman will be interrupted."
Avner's eyes lit in understanding.
"We'll go down opposite sides of the couloir." Tavis said. "I'll start the avalanche to distract Runolf, and we'll go down behind it. Then I'll try to stop the slide right before it buries him, but if either of us gets into trouble, I'll just let the slide take him. You understand?"
"Nothing could be simpler."
With that, the young thief hoisted himself upward. Tavis scrambled into the notch after the boy, then the two rose to their feet. Runolf's halo dimmed, the flames in his eyes burning more brightly as he regarded Avner's small form.
"How dare you bring a child into this!" the head stormed.
"I came on my own," Avner yelled down. "And I'm as old as Tavis was when you made a scout of him."
"And that's as old as you shall grow," Runolf replied in a melancholy voice. His golden halo began to dim, then he added, "It's not in my power to show mercy-even to a boy."
The scout turned his runestone over. The scree slope came loose with a tremendous crack, sliding down the couloir in a single huge cascade. Tavis waited an instant, then shoved Avner toward the far wall.
"Go!"
