“This was a serious oversight on my part.” Flip’s mouth flattened into a straight line as he said it. “And that makes this a serious problem.”

Selian let out an uneasy breath before asking, “I don’t suppose you have a serious solution to serious problems?”

“Generally serious problems yes. Specifically no.”

“It’s disintegration, isn’t it.” Dovhran sighed.

“It’s disintegration.” Flip said at the same time. “Most problems can be resolved by reducing something into ash. Like nosy neighbors or animal excrement. But I can’t destroy the hatch, that will solve nothing. And I can’t destroy these walls or the source of the flames without entering a space that would put myself or all of us in danger. I don’t want to risk taking out any portion of the structure of this tomb, as a matter of fact. Not after the last bit of magic we had to deal with. Destroying any of this structure could unleash magically compressed space and cause a cave in… or worse. A planar tear.”

“Is there anything we can do, then?” Selian frowned as she spoke. The elf was sincerely put out by the wizard’s ramblings and insistence that he couldn’t do certain things. It seemed he only spoke that way to incite questions he could answer easily.

“I could attempt the shield spell and hope that the area beyond the next room is safe enough for us to rest in.” Flip hummed as he twirled his beard between his fingers in a rolling motion. “But if the spell doesn’t hold until we can reach a safe space we may well be doomed.”

The elf and changeling turned to look at Flip with a mild confusion at his sudden despair. His sudden claim that they might be doomed struck them as odd. But, then again, most things about the wizard struck them as odd.

“Why don’t we just rest right here?” Dovhran suggested. “It’s not quite a bed or a comfortable chair with tea, but it isn’t as bad as the last two rooms. So long as we don’t cross the threshold, I mean.”

“I would, but I don’t suspect I’d be able to sleep well enough to recover on hard stones and there’s a possibility that these walls lower enough to allow the fire to kill us.”

Startled by the suggestion that the walls might move, Selian quickly examined the seams where the walls join the floor, ceiling, and walls. The elf detected no moveable seem, but that didn’t comfort her after witnessing so much magic in the last several hours.

“What if I carried you?” Dovhran’s question was unexpected, both to Flip and to Selian. “Not to get you to sleep, I mean. But while you cast your shield spell. Alleviate the physical burden some…”

Flip paused to think about the proposition. It didn’t seem like it would do much good, as the physical strain was only a marginal part of the exhaustion Flip was beginning to feel. Magical strain was more of a spiritual taxation, like the threads of Flips being were stretched taut and then left to hang loose just a little out of place.

While Flip puzzled out if that was a viable solution, Selian took a more practical approach to the problem at hand. She produced a number of arrowheads from a pouch and began to toss them past the threshold. Each one clattered to the floor and was instantly struck with a handful of fiery bursts before the room went still again.

“Why are you doing that?” Flip cocked his head at the experiment.

With a sigh of gentle frustration, Selian responded. “Isn’t this what you did earlier with the rhubaria vines?”

“Nearly.” Flip frowned, unable to see the connection. “Different problems require different assessments. What are you learning about this magic from throwing arrow heads into the abyss where you can ever retrieve them?”

“I’m figuring out what sets off the flames… and it appears to be movement.” Selian, trying with great effort not to become flustered, continued. “So, perhaps we could put something I place to obscure the magic so that it can’t detect movement, like a curtain or a wall.”

“We would have to move something that would not burn in order to do that.” Flip raised an eyebrow as he spoke—not with condescension, though perhaps Selian received it as such, but with curiosity—abandoning his attempts to solve the issue of his weariness entirely. “Do you have a flame retardant arrow, fabric, and rope with which to create a curtain?”

“No, but perhaps…”

Dovhran held an arm out to stop the conversation. “Don’t bother trying to convince him of another course of action. He’s convinced there’s only one way across that this point. I can tell.”

Flip glared at Dovhran, put out by the implication that the changeling knew what was on his mind. He wasn’t wrong, Flip had decided on a course of action, but the way in which he had determined it was wrong. Flip believed as much, at least. He took offense to the implication that he was toying with Selian in some way, or attempting to make her look like a fool in comparison to his plan. He was curious if she could determine a better course of action, but he doubted it would be a likely outcome.

“Get behind me. Backs to my back and be quick.” Flip ordered as he stood.

The wizard did not wait for his companions to follow his instructions. He stood, with a minor wobble to one side as he did, and raised a large clear crystal from a pouch at his side. He spoke two words with it raised over his head and then dashed out into the opening and over the threshold. Before his foot hit the floor but after leaping out into the open he uttered one final word and the spell began to activate.

It was a matter of less than seconds as three things happened simultaneously. The first, Flip leaping out and casting his spell, is quite simple. He had planned this, though perhaps with more rest in him to support his body and his magic, and he was prepared to deal with the direct consequences of casting something more powerful than a basic light spell; tired though he was. The second thing to happen is also something that one in such a place, having experienced what these three had, would expect—the subtle roar of rushing fire began to fill the air as jets of flame began to spew out towards the new movement in the room. Now that he was in the open space Flip could see the sources of the flame properly—in each small alcove on the opposite sides of both walls of the landing there stood a stone plinth, and atop each plinth was a small silver or chrome stand, and atop each stand was a crystalline globe with a smokey red tint to it as though there was a living flame roiling and sloshing about in the clear stone. And the third thing to happen was perhaps the most important of all the things that transpired in that instant of movement and magic, an elf and a changeling leapt out directly behind their wizard and stood back to back with him as his magic encased them mere fractions of a second before fire consumed their forms.

The magic that encased them was a clear dome of arcane force that looked as though it were crystal itself, and for a moment, all three companions stopped and stared in wonder at the beauty of what they were encircle about with. For, as each rapid bolt of flame splashed against the side of the dome it did not dissipate but wicked around the surface like water on wax. And the red and orange and yellow bursts of color were melting together like splashes of paint pooling as they swirled down a drain. It was a sight as brilliant as seeing a pillar of light engulf the sky or watching a star called from the heavens, just as powerful as a hoard of small creatures working in unison, and just as warming as a comfortable room with a single wood stove and fresh tea. As they all stood still in wonderment, the magic failed to recognize movement and the flames stopped, and just as quickly the swirling of beautiful colors faded.

For a moment the three were unsure of what to do. They had been mesmerized and lost focus of their very simple goal of crossing the room, and for a moment Flip suspected that there might have been more to the magic in the fire than just the power to burn. Perhaps it might have been an enchantment designed to enthrall those that witnessed it. But as he took a step and moved the dome with him, and as the flames began again—still as beautiful as before—the wonder was diminished. Something about remembering his task had focused the wizard’s attention away from the sight that he could well have constructed on his own, and it was less beautiful than it had been because of that knowledge. Likewise Selian and Dovhran did not stop to stare awestruck at the flames and their swirling colors, as the thought of being let to slip outside of the dome as it moved away from them was frightening.

“This will be the most difficult part of the problem presented here.” Flip announced as he approached the open doorway at the far side of the room. “This dome will not fit, and the flames will not quit when we pass through. If I leave the dome it will fade and if I tip it up to wedge it in diagonally the flames will be able to reach under it. Even if you two lift it and make your way into that next room, there is a chance you will be burned on the way.”

Selian adjusted herself quickly so she stood in front of the wizard and was able to peer into the next room beyond the open doorway and devise a plan of action. In her urgency she was not able to take in much detail of the room, but she did see two closed doors—one on the wall to the left and one to the right. The doors seemed to be the only things there, and it seemed clear to the elf that this was intentional and part of the design of the fire trap. Each door was directly in the line of sight of one of the orbs.

“We can just lift this dome up?” Dovhran asked as he crept close to the edge of the dome. “That seems like a pretty big oversight.”

“It makes the spell simpler.” Flip groaned, the strain of keeping the spell active finally getting to him.

“I’ll slip out, I should be able to get to the door the fastest.” Selian announced.

“And if it’s locked, who will open it?” Dovhran countered. “Or can you pick a lock as well as I can? And besides, if you’re faster, maybe you should drag Faengil to safety. It looks like he’s about to pass out.”

“I am.” Flip grumbled. He could feel that cool and light sensation that comes right before one loses consciousness against their will.

“Obscurity take him.” Dovhran swore under his breath as he pushed against the side of the dome with his back and slipped under it quickly.

With only a small lick of flame grasping at his ankles, the changeling dashed through the open doorway—which was now mostly obstructed by the dome—and skidded to a halt in front of the door on the left. With a lockpick ready in his hand, he grasped the handle and felt it turn freely under his grip.

“It’s unlocked, get over here!” Dovhran shouted back to his companions.

His words were just a second too late. Flip had just collapsed and his shielding spell was quickly fading. Like shattering glass, it finally gave way and Selian grabbed the wizard under the arms and began to drag him as she moved backwards as fast as she could. She moved out of sight of one orb first to minimize the damage that she knew would come, and held Flip’s body up to cover herself and minimize the impact of the fire on herself. It had occurred to her that Flip made an excellent shield against flames, except for the fact that in order to hold him up properly she had to expose her own arms below his. But the elf was swift and precise in her movements. Though bolts of fire splashed across her arms and began to ignite the wizard’s clothing and her own, Selian made it through the door that Dovhran had opened in mere moments. And as soon as all three were out of the line of fire, they quickly went to work extinguishing themselves; rolling the unconscious wizard on the floor and suffocating arms and legs with the folds of partially ignited cloaks and skirts.

They had survived by a hair… though few hairs had survived the destruction of open flame.