'No, and I can't make you wolves either, so don't suggest it. We use clothing, I suppose. Dwarves. Beglug and I are a little small, but we might pass as Neidar.'
'We could all be dwarves,' Trap said. 'Umpth and Grod are going with us. We could be gully dwarves.'
Halmarain stared at the kender as if they had lost their minds. 'I won't do it,' she announced. 'Nothing would make me pretend to be a gully dwarf!'
Trap glanced uneasily at Umpth and Grod, but they had filled their stomachs and pushed their dishes aside. They sat, elbows on the table, chins propped in the palms of their hands. They were watching the kender and the wizard with an air of impersonal interest as if they had no idea they were the subjects under discussion. They turned their heads to speak to each other and proved they had heard every word.
'Maybe clan grow,' Umpth said. 'Beglug make good Aghar.'
'More good than wizard,' Grod agreed. 'She too short.'
'Got no clan magic,' Umpth added. 'Not much use.'
'Kender got no clan magic,' Grod said. 'Much trouble. Only Aghar have good magic.'
'Thank you very much, but I can handle myself,' Halmarain bristled. 'And I don't appreciate being talked about as if I wasn't here. It would be bad enough to pretend to be a Neidar, but an Aghar, no.' Halmarain shook her head.
'Yes, you can do that,' Ripple said. 'That would be fun. You pretend to be Neidar… you, Beglug, Umpth and Grod. What could we be?' She gazed questioningly at her brother.
'Eagles? Unicorns?' he asked hopefully. He sighed as Halmarain shook her head. 'How can the gulleys be Neidar?' he asked. 'How will you keep them clean?'
'Not even my magic could handle that,' Halmarain scoffed. 'I'll need all my art to handle that thing.' she pointed at Beglug.
'Wizard like no's,' Umpth observed to his brother. 'Have no yes's,' Grod agreed.
'I can say yes as quickly as any other if someone suggests a workable solution,' Halmarain snapped. 'I refuse to look like a fool or a gully dwarf.'
'I won't go if you won't stop being mean!' Ripple crossed her arms and pursed her mouth as she stared at the little wizard with tightened lips.
'See a fight,' Umpth told Grod, wriggling in anticipation.
'Females fight good,' Grod nodded.
'There will be no fight,' Halmarain said with a sigh. 'You're right, Ripple, I'm letting my concern for Orander override good sense. I'll do whatever it takes to get my master back through the portal. I really don't think I can travel as a gully dwarf, but if we can disguise them as Neidar, I'll try it. They'll need new clothing, and they'll have to bathe.'
The decision made, they settled to planning the journey to Palanthus. Once the tiny wizard had decided to cooperate, she started to work. By a water clock in the passage, they knew the evening was well advanced. The shops would be closed, so they set to work doing what they could.
Halmarain decreed the Aghar had to be bathed and scrubbed until years of grime had been removed. Along with the gully dwarves and kender, she struggled with pails of water and armloads of wood as they filled a caldron and heated it. The gully dwarves became increasingly uneasy as the water heated, fearing the wizard would put them in the boiling caldron. They were only a little relieved when the water reached a temperature a bit beyond the best degree for soaking off the dirt and Trap raked away the fire. When the bottom was cool enough not to burn their feet and bottoms, Halmarain gave them a choice: they could climb in and bathe or she would turn them into frogs and throw them in.
'Frogs must wash?' Umpth said, considering the second option.
'Frogs stay in water,' Grod said with a shudder and then turned his attention on the wizard. 'Can no make fly, can no make horses. How make frogs?'
Umpth was sitting on the floor. He had removed one boot but he stopped and gazed at his brother as if he doubted such profound logic could come out of Grod. Umpth slowly nodded and put his boot on again.
'I can't make six people into horses but I can turn two gully dwarves into something, and that will be you, and you will be frogs. Now get in that tub!'
Umpth nodded and stripped off his clothing. Ripple and Halmarain turned their backs until the dwarves were in the caldron. Then, to the surprise and delight of the kender, Halmarain touched the dwarves' filthy, ragged clothing with her staff and spoke a word of command. In an instant the garments were clean, the original color restored and all the tears mended. The spell only restored the clothing, it did nothing for the length of the sleeves and the trousers that had been made for humans.
'Oh! Hey! That's good magic!' Ripple clapped her hands.
'I took care of their clothes, you take care of them,' the little wizard said. She left Trap to scrub the gully dwarves while she and Ripple returned to Orander's work room.
Trap decided he had the worst of the deal as he tried to keep the gully dwarves sitting in the large caldron of hot water. He argued them into rubbing soap in their hair and beards. He used a brush to scrub at their necks and backs. He insisted they clean the rest of their bodies. They knew nothing about closing their eyes to keep the soap out. Their howls echoed through the scullery and down the passage.
Drawn by the excitement, Beglug came over to watch the splashing. The little fiend thought the bath looked like fun and he hopped into the caldron too. At first he contented himself with trying to bite the bubbles. Then he ate the soap.
'Drink all water too,' Umpth encouraged Beglug.
Fortunately, the gully dwarves were as clean as they would get with one soaking. To remove all the embedded grime would take daily soaks for weeks. Still, one cleansing had made a tremendous difference. Umpth did have brown hair that flowed into a brown beard. They matched in a depth of color that was almost black. After a thorough cleaning, his cheeks, nose, and part of his forehead was pink, but the grime in his wrinkles gave the appearance of dark lines drawn on his face.
Grod, without wrinkles, had a reddish complexion that almost blended with a reddish blond beard and hair. His eyes were a startling bright blue.
While the gully dwarves and Beglug slept, Trap, Ripple, and Halmarain talked over their plans again and added details. They had decided the shopping trip to outfit the expedition would be made by Halmarain, who could negate the spells on the doors; with her would go Trap and Grod. One of the gully dwarves had to go to be sure the clothing and dwarf armor fitted. Halmarain fashioned herself a tunic and skirt that would allow her to pass as a dwarf.
'It will work,' Ripple said and with a sudden leap, did a back flip.
Early the next morning, the three shoppers walked the long, confusing route through secret underground passages that Orander had cleared for his own use. They came out on a street nearly half a mile west of Market Square. Since Halmarain had spent most of her time far below the city, she knew little about Lytburg. Grod had to be forcibly pushed past trash heaps in the ally before he was convinced to lead them to a narrow, noisy, but clean street that served as the dwarven section of town. Their first purchases were clothing, two sets for Halmarain and Beglug, and an extra for each of the gully dwarves.
To explain their numerous purchases, they told a tale of having been robbed of everything but the clothing they wore and a hidden purse. The story seemed to allay the suspicions of the shop keepers who were glad to make large sales. At the boot makers, Halmarain purchased new boots for the Aghar, a pair for Beglug, and attempted to find something that would fit her small feet. She had to settle for the smallest pair and stuff them with rags.
Dwarves never traveled without weapons and armor so they visited another shop. Trap lost count of the steel pieces they were spending. He was doling out the money because, for some reason he could not explain, he always seemed to have Orander's purse. Halmarain finally told him to keep it. At least she would know where it was.
Under the little wizard's suspicious scrutiny, he had been systematically emptying the bag, but though it was nearly flat when he returned it to his pouch in the second shop, when he took it out to pay for their third bundle of purchases, it was heavy with steel pieces again. He decided it was a magic bag, refilling itself automatically.
When they left the armorer's shop, Grod and Halmarain were dressed in chain mail under dwarven tunics and wore metal helms. Halmarain clumped along in her heavy boots as if she were slogging through thick mud. She could no longer help to carry their purchases since she could barely walk in her armor. All this seemed to add to her bad mood.
