“Well that’s a shame.” Amnestria gazed at the crumbling cave entrance in front of them. The walls of the cave had been coated in ice, which had naturally begun to melt without the continued presence of the silver dragon. The aura of cold here was much less drastic than in the clearing near the dragon’s corpse, but it was still chilly. She shivered, rubbing her arms briskly. “Marent, do you think it’s safe?”

Marent grunted, and walked forward. They HAD had to climb the damn cliff, leaving the horses behind, and he was thoroughly irritated. His palms were scratched, his knees dirty, and his beard full of dirt and leaves. Even worse, Oskar had needed to hoist him up over several protruding roots and rocky outcroppings. Marent couldn’t wait to bathe tonight.

The cave entrance was at least fifty feet high, with a scattering of wet boulders and smaller rocks in the entrance. Water dripped steadily from above, and as he looked up, he saw a large crack in the rock, partially covered by ice.

“It looks as if it sustained damage at some point – maybe the bitch threw a fit in her madness, slammin’ against the walls? Aye, that could do it. If she’d seen the walls startin’ to come down, a blast of ice could have sealed it in place, keepin’ it from crumblin’ entirely. Then a’course it wouldna melt as long as she was in residence, comin’ back every day or so. But now, it’s melting.” He walked forward, squinting and shading his eyes against the sun. It was no use – his darkvision wouldn’t kick in unless he was in complete darkness, and he couldn’t see any further than ten feet inside the cave. “I canna tell anythin’ more from out here.”

“So… not safe?” Amnestria had walked forward with him.

“Weel, hold on a moment lass. I canna be certain, and I’m none so eager t’ give up our payday. We need the money, think of all the healing potions we could buy.” Marent squinted into the darkness again, before giving it up. “If Oskar goes in wi’ me, I can get a better look at the damage, tell if it’s too dangerous. If it starts to fall, he can cast that Sprint spell o’ his and get us both out in a second.”

“No.” Amnestria was firm. “I’m not risking the two of you like that. If we can be sure it’s safe, then-”

“If that cave can come down at any moment, we need to go in now. I can’t lose that lyre!” Rando was highly alarmed. Eyes wide, he started forward. “You have no idea how-”

Amnestria grabbed Rando’s shoulder and hauled him backwards. He staggered, almost falling before catching himself. He started to speak, but she cut him off angrily.

“Did you or did you not put ME in charge when you hired us? I am NOT willing to risk your life, much less the lives of my team, going after treasure! Not unless we can be assured-”

“I put you in charge of getting us past the dragon! She’s dead, so you -”

“Enough!” Oskar stepped forward, his deep voice startling them both into silence. “I’ll no listen to the two of you bickering over somethin’ so trivial. Aye, I said trivial!” Oskar barked, staring daggers at Rando. The bard had opened his mouth to continue arguing. He shut it quickly though, at the look on Oskar’s face. “It’s a waste of an argument. We can stabilize it.”

“It’s not a waste when it’s your lives on the... line. Wait, you can stabilize it? How?” It had taken Amnestria a second to process what Oskar had said, but now that she had, she stared at him in confusion.

“Energy. We simply focus the raw power behind an ice spell into the ceiling and walls of the cave. It should re-freeze the supportin’ ice, keepin’ it from falling.” He turned to the dwarf, who was still looking into the cave, shading his eyes. “Marent, would that work?”

The dwarf considered, squinting again. “Ness, let us get closer. I promise, we won’t go into the cave, but I need t’ get a closer look.”

Amnestria sighed, glaring at both of them for a moment. “Fine. But you-” she leveled a finger at Oskar- “be prepared to pull him out at a second’s notice. Is that clear?”

“I’ll keep my Sprint on the tip o’ my tongue,” Oskar reassured his worried friend. He turned back to Marent. “Let’s do this quickly then, aye?”

Marent nodded, and the two of them broke into a jog, moving forward. The dwarf wasted no time, studying the rock as they approached, getting as good of a look as he could in the dappled late afternoon sunlight. Once they’d reached the entrance, they stopped, and Oskar readied himself for a quick retreat. He turned to face away from the cave before reaching out, taking Marent by the shoulder and settling into a sprinter’s pose. He glanced back, watching the cave’s walls as he waited for Marent to take his look. He knew much less than Marent about stone, having been exempt from spending any time in the tiny tunnels that made up the dwarven mines, and was simply keeping an eye out for sudden collapse.

Marent cupped his hands around his eyes again, trying to block out the sun enough to let his eyes see inside the darkness of the lair. His darkvision stubbornly refused to kick in, and he was forced to rely on his normal vision. He was able to get a good enough look though, and relaxed.

“It’s safe enough for the moment,” he said to Oskar. He took Oskar’s arm, drawing the taller man around for a look. “See there? High up, the cracks near the long stalactite? Reinforce there, and back t’ the left...”

~~

Oskar and Marent walked back to where the others waited. Oskar was amused – Amnestria was practically dancing with agitation at their slow pace. He briefly considered casting a horrified look back before grabbing Marent and Sprinting away from the cave… but no. His friend was already practically traumatized from his prank with the scissors earlier today, and probably still on edge from the argument just now. He’d behave himself until tonight, at least.

“It’s more stable than we thought,” Oskar announced as they all came together again. He turned to Rando. “Marent showed me where t’ add more ice, so if ye’ll lend yer aid...”

“I’m not sure,” Rando spoke hesitantly, and looked at the cave with uncertainty. “Ice magic is not my forte. In fact, I know next to nothing about cold magic. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

Oskar looked to Marent, who shook his head. “No time for trainin’ lad, ye’ll need to do whatever you can in the next hour or so. Even then, we’ll only have a short time t’ do what we need t’ do in there.”

Oskar looked back to Rando. “I’m not sure how similar our magic is. you need to study yer spells, aye?”

“Yes,” Rando tilted his head to the side. “And you’re a spontaneous caster? That said, I believe the way we access the magical power is similar. Why?”

Amnestria was looking back and forth between the two of them, confused. “Does how you cast spells even matter? I didn’t even realize that magic could be that diverse, what-”

Rando and Oskar were ignoring her though, moving off toward the cave and discussing similarities and differences in their casting style. Marent took Amnestria’s arm and began drawing her to the side. “Let’s set up camp, aye?”

~~

Amnestria came back to their chosen spot carrying an armload of firewood. She dropped it to the ground, and started building the fire in the circle of stones Marent had arranged. She looked over to where Rando stood, eyes closed, while Oskar spoke quietly to him. “What are they doing? Aren’t they setting up a ritual?”

“The preparation for a ritual would take too long, lass. Yer right in that it would work much better than what they’re considerin’ here, but time’s against us.” He turned, pointing. “They need to reinforce that ceilin’ quickly, before it cracks any further. The biggest crack is right over a supportin’ wall. If that goes, it takes out the whole thing.”

“Wait, what are they considering then?” Amnestria looked at the two humans, who appeared to be getting along better at the moment than they had throughout the entire trip as they compared notes on magical theory. “I have no clue what’s going on.”

“It’s called a siphon. It’s no something Oskar’s ever practiced much, but he assures me he’s well versed in the theory. Said somethin’ about yer father drillin’ him ruthlessly in defense before ever teachin’ him a single spell.”

“Oh, you mean the thing where one spellcaster can steal another’s power? He’s going to take Rando’s power?” Amnestria pulled out a handful of dried grass she’d gathered whilst searching for firewood. She ran a hand through her hair, drawing out a few dozen loose ones and adding them to the bundle, tucking it neatly into the hollow underneath her carefully built pyramid of twigs, sticks, and branches.

“Th’ idea behind the drillin’ is t’ get it so ingrained into a caster’s head to defend against the theft of power that they do it automatically, without thinkin’ about it, every time they cast.” Marent had pulled out his flint and he began aiming sparks at the tinder with his dagger. “At this point in his life, Rando needs t’ work t’ drop those defenses, t’ let Oskar in.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight. Oskar is going to be grabbing onto Rando’s power and taking it, adding it to his own, to somehow cast a better spell to reinforce the ceiling?” Amnestria felt a breeze, and moved around the campfire to block the wind from sabotaging Marent’s efforts.

“Thank you lass. Aye, essentially.” They heard a sound then, a wordless song. They glanced over, and saw both men with their eyes closed. Rando was singing, vocalizing a single high note, while Oskar stood with a hand outstretched. After a moment, both men opened their eyes and began speaking again. Rando looked embarrassed, Oskar was shaking his head.

“But why haven’t I ever seen Oskar or my father do anything like this before? And now that I think of it, I’ve never seen anyone try to steal Oskar’s power.” She looked back over at the two spellcasters. They had resumed their eyes-closed position, but didn’t seem to have made any progress. Rando was humming.

“Usually, this kind of thing is entirely mental, wi’ nobody but the two casters aware it’s even happening. Wi’ Oskar, he doesn’t exactly look like someone you could take power from, so enemy casters tend to ignore him. An’ he casts so infrequently that once they do realize he can be drawn from, he spends the rest of the battle smackin’ things, an’ doesna gi’ em a chance. Dammit.” Marent poked a thick finger in at the bundle of tinder, readjusted his crouch, and tried again. “As for why ye’ve never seen him do it, it’s because he doesna have the willpower. He doesna cast often enough t’ get good at it. An’ he thinks it’s a dirty trick.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Amnestria watched Marent’s attempts to catch the fire. He cursed intermittently during the entire process. “Why just them though? You can’t help them?”

“Nay, my power is entirely divine in nature. Oskar wouldn’t be able to manipulate it the way he’ll need to. Plus, God protects me against siphons – it’s impossible to steal my power, e’en if I’m willin’” Marent shook his head. “I’m as useless to them as you are righ’ now.”

“Gee. Thanks.” Amnestria rolled her eyes as she spread her cloak a bit, trying to block more of the wind. “Wait, why does Oskar need Rando anyway? I know he can cast ice spells, so-”

“He only knows the one ice spell, the one that sends out shards o’ ice and rock. It won’t do what we need here, it’d be more likely to bring the cave down immediately,” Marent explained as the tinder began to smoke steadily. Amnestria knew next to nothing about magic, and never liked her ignorance, though she never made an effort to remedy the lack. Their entire payday was relying on the spellcasters, and she barely knew what was going on. Marent could understand how that could rankle. “Any caster can throw out raw energy, but without the structure a spell provides, the energy is scattered an’ weak. He needs the augmentation Rando’s power provides, if he wants t’ focus the cold enough t’ stabilize the cracks.”

“Well,” Amnestria gave up trying to understand the subtleties of what Oskar was planning to do. Flames began to lick at the tiny twigs she had piled on top of the tinder, and she smiled. “If you think it’ll work, I trust you.”

~~

Oskar was pleasantly surprised. Rando had turned his complete attention to the problem at hand, focusing his willpower into allowing himself to be drawn from with determination.

One of the first things a spellcaster was taught was how to hold their power close and keep it from being interfered with. Older, more practiced spellcasters would sometimes focus on disrupting the magic of enemy casters by simply pulling away their opponent’s power before the spell was even released. It usually left the attacked spellcaster out of breath and vulnerable, as if they’d had the wind knocked out of them. If that happened, they’d end up staggering while their opponent used their own power against them. Thus, the importance of concentration was drilled into Oskar by his teacher at a very young age.

Rando was younger than Oskar, so one might think he was less practiced in the art of holding his magic safe against another spellcaster. The opposite proved to be true, however, and the bard found it difficult to lower his defenses enough to allow Oskar access.

“Weel, I spend a good deal o’ my time hitting things. Sometimes a week or more goes by wi’ me not castin’ any spells, aside from callin’ up horses.” Oskar glanced up at the sun, gauging that they’d spent fifteen minutes so far on this issue. They’d need to move soon, or they might as well give it up and go home. “It only stands t’ reason you have a stronger willpower than me. you just need to lower yer defenses.”

Rando huffed out a short laugh, eyes closed as he attempted to relax. “I noticed that ‘defense’ isn’t a word you seem to think of too often. Mostly, it seems you think of the words ‘attack,’ ‘advance,’ and ‘charge.’”

Oskar shook his head, amused. “Try again. If ye’re strong enough to defend yerself this well, I’m sure you have the will t’ let go...”

Rando started humming again. Instead of singing one of his spell-songs, he had been marshaling his power with a simple melodic hum. Oskar felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck and closed his eyes, reaching out again, feeling for -

He had it. He grasped the thread of the power carefully, envisioning himself taking hold of a shining rope with one hand. He carefully rotated his arm, imagining the power wrapping around his wrist. Rando gasped as he felt the tug. This is where an enemy could rip the power from Rando, depriving him of his spell and leaving him staggered. But Oskar wanted more than a single spell’s worth of power, he needed the energy to build.

“More,” Oskar whispered. “Feed more power into it.”

Rando opened his mouth and began vocalizing a wordless note. It was strange – he didn’t seem to need to breathe, and the note just kept going. Oskar didn’t spend any more time considering the issue though, simply reached out with his other arm, and began pulling more of the invisible rope of power. It took a surprising amount of strength. Perhaps it had to do with Oskar’s choice of his mental image physically pulling the power from Rando...

It didn’t take long until Oskar’s imagined self held a shining coil of rope in his arms. He watched as his mental image gazed down in confusion, wondering why the hell he’d imagined a rope for this job. The mental image of Oskar looked up into the cave, then smiled. He balled the coil up and threw.

As the mental image threw the balled up coil of rope, Oskar’s physical body made a sudden throwing motion. An intensely bright ball of pale blue energy shot out from his hand, impacting the ceiling at the first point Marent had shown him. Energy seemed to leech out from Oskar, and he sagged.

It was as if the silver dragon herself had breathed her icy breath on the cave. Frost and ice spread out in a weblike pattern over a dripping, iced over area approximately twenty feet in diameter. The residual magic of the spell provided a pale blue glow that lasted for several seconds, and Oskar was able to clearly see the second point he needed to aim for.

“Again! Quickly, now ye’ve got the hang of it.” Oskar nodded in approval at the gasping bard, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath. Rando smiled weakly through the discomfort. He was determined though, and forced himself upright, struggling to take deep breaths and regain his composure.

“Don’t think! Draw in the power quickly, before you have a chance to settle yer mind. Might go easier that way,” Oskar advised, readying himself again.

It did go easier, and Oskar was able to quickly strengthen the rest of the ceiling of the cave, as well as the supporting wall Marent had pointed out. By the time they had finished, Rando was sitting slouched in the dirt, and Oskar was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. He wasn’t affected nearly as much as Rando, being able to control the amount of energy he was using. Rando had given up his control however, and Oskar’s unfamiliarity with bardic magic led to him drawing much more magic from the bard than Rando was normally used to utilizing.

Oskar stood, gesturing to the others. They’d laid a quick campfire, and Amnestria set a few more logs onto the pile before jogging quickly over. She looked into the cave at their handiwork.

“Good job you two! How long will it hold?” She had brought their bags with her, and passed Oskar’s over to him as she gazed into the cave.

“They’ve hit all the right spots,” Marent mused, stepping up beside Amnestria. “It looks much more stable now. It should hold for an hour easy, maybe two, before gettin’ shaky again.”

“Ok, move quickly now! Rando with me to the left. Dwarves to the right.” At Rando’s confused look, she gestured at Oskar. “Well, he’s not a dwarf but you know what I mean. He has darkvision. The darkvision boys go to the right and ten paces ahead, so our torchlight doesn’t interfere with their sight.”

Marent rolled his eyes as Amnestria continued. They had entered the cave by now, and Oskar and Marent moved forward a few paces while Rando used a tiny trickle of magic to light a torch. “We’ll move to the back of the cave, watching for the lyre along the way. Don’t try gathering anything unless it’s something you can grab quickly. We keep moving back.” They all began striding forward, wasting no time. “If we don’t see the lyre, we’ll work our way back to the front, gathering treasure as we go. Use that time to look more carefully for the lyre – it could be under a pile of gold, or inside a chest. Rando, describe it again for us?”

“Polished birch wood, golden accents. The gold reflects the light, and makes the wood of the instrument appear golden sometimes, so just look for pale gold wood or golden filigree. Nine strings, they should be unbroken due to the magic of the instrument.” Rando had already begun searching the ground at his feet as they moved through the cave entrance, though there was no reason for the treasure to be kept so close to the outside. “I don’t believe it glows from the magic, but I could be mistaken.”

The group moved through the wide cave, passing fallen boulders, shattered stalagmites, and puddles of icemelt from the dripping walls and ceiling. Marent kept an eye on the structure as they went, but saw nothing alarming. It appeared the only damage was to the cave mouth.

The cave suddenly widened, and they entered the lair proper. The walls and ceiling soared away from the small group, and Marent and Oskar were able to move further to the right. Rando and Amnestria followed them into the cavern, moving to the left.

Metallic glints sparkled in the minimal torchlight that made it’s way to the right side of the cavern. Oskar’s eye was drawn to a small pile, probably close to 500 coins, though the black-and-white of the darkvision and the distance kept Oskar from telling if they were gold, silver, or copper. He made a mental note of the pile’s location, and moved forward.

Marent had stooped, bringing up a gemstone the size of his thumbnail. It appeared to be of a high clarity, perhaps a diamond. He tossed it to Oskar, who dropped it into his bag before moving on.

Their eyes were drawn several times by glinting treasure, though they saw no dull glow of polished wood. It seemed the dragon had mainly hoarded the usual treasure: coin and gems. That was fine with Oskar. Gems were easier to transport, and coin spent, with no need to waste time selling off unneeded items for the value.

There was a sudden shout, quickly hushed. Marent glanced at the ceiling again, but Rando’s exclamation of triumph hadn’t disturbed the cave above them.

Oskar stretched upwards, squinting over a pile of crumbled stalagmite at the two figures in the bright torchlight. His eyes adjusted, and he saw Rando kneeling near a pile of rubble, holding up a golden U shaped stringed instrument. Amnestria was castigating him about keeping his voice down, but even she couldn't help but look at the object with awe. It was a gorgeously carved instrument.

Oskar closed his eyes, and turned back around. After a few seconds, he opened them again, and started searching the ground nearby. Marent watched him in confusion, reaching forward as Oskar held something out to him.

“What was that all about? Is the bard alright?” Marent accepted the handful of coins Oskar had gathered from the floor. “Oh, he’s found the lyre unbroken then? Good, I saw a pile of gems on top of that outcropping over there.”

Marent pocketed his winnings, and the two moved off to gather their pay.

~~

Oskar had stepped behind a cluster of stalagmites to scoop up a pile of coins and gems he had seen earlier. He wasn’t paying attention to the others, and a cracking sound followed quickly by Marent’s sudden shout caught him by surprise.

“Oskar – MOVE!”

Oskar dove to the side, rolling, trusting Marent’s warning without hesitation. As he tumbled, he saw a flash of the ceiling above him. The stalactites had begun to crack, and fall. Oskar had jumped blindly to the side, but was still tumbling, heading towards the wall, instead of away from the danger. By the time he came to enough of a stop to change his trajectory, he’d be crushed.

A sudden chord of high, chiming music rang through the cave, and a blinding flash of blue light coalesced in a bright mass above Oskar. He threw an arm across his face as he came to a stop, eyes shut tight against the brightness. Pebbles and grit showered down, and he shook his head to clear the dirt from his face before blinking open his eyes. His normal vision had returned, and he realized that he wasn’t dead. He looked upwards, and saw four horse-sized chunks of rock hanging suspended in the air just above him, rotating slightly, wreathed in blue flame.

Oskar scrambled out of the way as the rocks slowly settled to the cave floor, thunking down solidly. The blue nimbus of light faded, and Oskar was left blinded for a moment, until his eyes adjusted and his darkvision reasserted itself. Marent had rushed over, taking him by the arm.

“I’m fine,” Oskar reassured Marent. He shook his head again sharply, brushing more grit from his eyes. “What’d you do? How--”

“Not me,” Marent jerked his head towards the other side of the cave. Oskar looked, sighing in annoyance as his darkvision blinded him momentarily before his normal vision took over. He saw Rando and Amnestria both gazing down at the golden lyre. “Yon bard saved you wi’ his new toy.”

Oskar sighed. He strode forward, towards the circle of torchlight.

“Well, that was impressive,” Rando stood gazing down at the lyre in his arms. He stood with his hand still poised on the strings, seemingly lost in admiration of his prize. “I didn’t expect that to actually work. I’d heard about-”

Oskar had reached the man’s side by this point, and he drew his hammer. Rando looked up in startlement, taking a step back, but Amnestria’s hand on his shoulder and murmured reassurance halted his movement.

“I owe you my life,” Oskar said solemnly. He reversed his grip on the hammer, so that the shaft lay along his forearm, and the head extended out past his elbow. Laying the hilt across his heart, he bowed to Rando, and waited.

Rando gazed around at Marent and Amnestria in confusion, as Oskar remained bent over. Oskar could see Marent gesturing out of the corner of his eye, and Rando repeated the motion, tapping an empty hand over his own heart, but without bowing in response. He looked at Marent as he did so, and Marent nodded approvingly. Oskar straightened, and snapped his hammer back in place.

“I’ll buy you a drink when we get back t’ a town, but in the meantime, if there’s anything I can do for ye, please, let me know. I’m in yer debt.”

Rando nodded, seemingly still a bit confused, but then stopped, gaze sharpening. “Anything?”

“Within reason.” Oskar’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Well,” Rando looked around. “Let’s finish gathering what we can, and then perhaps you’ll answer a few questions for me?”