fell softly with each breath. It was alive, but not moving.
Lynaelle wasn't sure whether to draw her dagger or use magic to kill the thing. She hesitated to move closer, unsure of the orc's condition.
'Drag it here so that I may eat it, then bring me my treasure,' Torixileos said from behind her. 'Now.'
Shivering in apprehension, Lynaelle felt trapped between the dangers both behind and in front of her.
The dragon was by far the more terrifying threat, though, so she began to creep closer to the orc, her dagger held defensively in front of herself. She had never been very good with it, carrying the weapon only because Ambriel had insisted she have something else with which to defend herself when magic wasn't an option. Still, her fingers twitched with the desire to let loose with her spells, to sling a magical missile at the orc from a safe distance.
'Stop wasting time,' the dragon growled, his voice reverberating down the passage. 'I want my treasure!'
Lynaelle jumped at the sound, nearly cracking her head on the roof of the tunnel. The orc groaned softly, making her freeze in her tracks.
'Why can't you just breathe on it and kill it from there?' she asked timidly, cocking her head slightly to one side without taking her eyes off the humanoid. 'Then I can get your treasure much more easily.'
'Because it cannot-because I do not wish it!' the dragon roared, his chilling breath wafting over Lynaelle's back and making her jump again. 'Now obey me, or I shall eat you! Hurry!'
Shaking her head miserably, Lynaelle took another tentative step closer to the orc. She clutched the dagger in a death grip, and she could see the blade trembling from her own fear. Then she took another step, and another. She was within two paces of the orc. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to lunge down for the killing blow, planning to grab the creature by its unruly green hair and yank her dagger sharply across its throat.
As she braced herself and prayed to Mystra for the courage to follow through, Lynaelle took another look at the treasure just beyond the orc, stalling.
What she saw amazed her. True to every tale of dragons the girl had ever heard, riches were scattered in every corner of the chamber. Coins spilled out of overflowing chests and formed huge, ice-caked piles all across the floor. Gems and jewelry sparkled everywhere, embedded in thick blocks of the frozen stuff. And everywhere that Lynaelle looked, artifacts of gold, silver, and adamantine were scattered, many of them coated in a crystal-clear sheen. Everything glinted in the light of Lynaelle's spell, sparkling and shining brightly. Even the chests, coated as they were in thick layers of ice, reflected the girl's illumination.
A low growl from behind her snapped Lynaelle out of her brief distraction, and she knew she could hesitate no longer. She took a final step toward the orc, her dagger still thrust out threateningly. When nothing happened, she nudged the orc with the toe of her boot.
The creature groaned softly and stirred.
'Stop it,' the orc mumbled softly, barely loud enough for the girl to hear.
Startled, Lynaelle retreated a step, holding her dagger in front of herself with both hands.
'Kill it now, before it wakes up!' Torixileos roared from the far end.
Lynaelle glanced back toward the entrance to the tunnel and saw one of the dragon's forelegs shoved down the passage, its claws extended, grasping for her. She yelped in alarm and darted forward, terrified of being impaled on one of the deadly talons. In her haste, the half-elf stumbled over one of the orc's legs and went sprawling, landing next to the creature in a heap. Her gloved hand-the one with the magical light still emanating from it- hit the floor of the tunnel right next to the orc's face.
The glare of her spell made it flinch back, and it opened one eye to look at her. The other, she saw, was swollen shut. A gash across its forehead leaked dark blood.
Lynaelle shrieked once and jerked her hand away, scrambling on hands and knees to get beyond the orc. Abject terror lent her speed, but not grace. She slipped and skidded along the frozen floor, barely making any headway.
Behind the girl, the dragon's claw withdrew, replaced by the glaring eye of the beast again. As the orc lifted its head and peered around groggily, Lynaelle moved herself into a seated position with her feet closest to the orc's head. She raised one booted foot, aiming it at the humanoid's face, ready to kick it unconscious again.
'Yes,' Torixileos gloated, watching. 'Bring the thief to me! Shove it to me so that I may eat it!'
Lynaelle drew her foot back, prepared to pummel the orc, her heart thudding sharply in her chest. Terror was giving her strength. She thought she might just drive the orc down the tunnel to the waiting dragon with one powerful kick.
'Wait,' the orc said weakly, looking at her with its one good eye. 'I'm not the thief.'
Lynaelle froze.
At the far end of the tunnel, Torixileos roared in fury and began to reach in with his clawed foreleg once more.
'What?' the girl said, taken aback.
'The… white,' the orc panted, barely able to keep its head up,'… is the thief. My treasure… not his.'
The orc sagged down again, unconscious once more. Lynaelle sat back, stunned.
How? she thought. So much treasure has to belong to a dragon. Then a realization hit the girl.
The ice.
Seeing that Torixileos had withdrawn his claws once more and that she didn't have much time, Lynaelle stood awkwardly and took hold of the orc by its collar.
She could hear the dragon drawing in a deep breath, and terror of what she knew was to come drove her.
Dragging the humanoid along the floor, thankful for the slick coating of ice there, Lynaelle scrambled desperately into the treasure chamber. Slipping and sliding, she pulled her counterpart around the corner of the tunnel, out of the direct line of fire, and lay down next to it, against the wall.
As the first arctic blast of the dragon's deadly breath came roaring down the tunnel, Lynaelle took hold of the orc and pulled it atop herself, shielding her body as best as she could from the chilling waves of cold. When the unconscious form was protecting her as much as possible, the girl buried her face in her cloak, hiding away from the frigid tempest that erupted in the cavern.
Even with the orc shielding her, Lynaelle thought she would freeze to death right then and there. Numbing cold washed over her, making her skin and bones ache. She groaned from the pain, her sound muffled by the cloak she wore. Finally, after a moment, the worst of the chill subsided, and she began to listen.
At first, there was nothing but the sound of the orc's breathing. Then she heard the dragon speak.
'Little morsel?'
Lynaelle held very still, holding her breath.
'Little morsel, I know you're in there. I can smell you. Come out, or I will breathe again.'
Lynaelle was about to shout, 'No!' at the dragon, to tell him to go away, but another sound from beyond the treasure chamber stopped her. It was another voice.
'Torixileos! You would dare?'
The voice was different than the white dragon's, but no less powerful. Smooth and warm like honey, it gave Lynaelle a sudden sense of comfort, like Ambriel's voice used to do.
Torixileos roared again, much louder than ever before, but the dragon's anger was dwarfed by a second roar. The two sounds together threatened to shake the mountain apart, and Lynaelle had to cover her ears with her hands to keep from crying out in anguish. The girl felt several intense thumps, felt the stone floor of the chamber beneath her bounce, and there was silence.
She waited a long time before crawling out from beneath the orc.
Very carefully, the girl examined the creature she had rescued from the white dragon, then she took off her pack and dug inside it until she found a small vial. Propping the orc's head into her lap, Lynaelle unstop-pered the vial and poured a little of the contents into the creature's mouth. It coughed and spluttered a bit, but swallowed most of the potion. Lynaelle carefully administered the rest of the healing draught, making sure nothing spilled.
After a few moments, the orc opened its eyes-both eyes, for the swelling had reduced considerably-and looked at her.
'Hello,' the orc said. 'Who are you?'
'I'm Lynaelle. Who are you? You're no orc, that's for sure.'
The orc smiled.
