during his nap, a whole new rockfall seemed to have
filled about half of the cavern. Huge slabs of stone had
crashed down from above, and torrents of gravel with
them. He peered here and there, then found the speaker: a
big, angry green eye stared back at him from the depths of
a crevice among the stone.
“Who that?” Glitch asked, backing hastily away.
“Verden Leafglow, you little imbecile!” The crackling
voice subsided into a rasp of resignation. “I’m ready to
make a deal.”
“What kin’ deal?” He hugged the cavern wall, ready to
flee at an instant.
“I’m trapped here,” the dragon voice admitted. “The
hill fell in on me, and I can’t move.” The statement wasn’t
entirely true. She knew she could fight free if she had to,
but the effort it would take to get loose – in her condition –
might kill her. “I need help,” she said.
The Highbulp relaxed slightly. “What kin’ help?”
“The same thing I needed before!” the answer was
almost a roar of aggravation. Then the dragon sighed and
lowered her voice. “My self-stone. I told you about my
self-stone. Remember?”
It took a bit of head-scratching, but then the Highbulp
remembered. “Little stone? ‘Bout this big? Special stone?”
“That’s the one. I need it, and I need you and your . . .
your people to find it for me.”
The Highbulp scowled in deep thought, scuffing the
ground with his toe. Then his eyes lighted with a shrewd
look. “What in it for me?” he asked.
The deep growl that seeped through the fallen stone
mixed irritation and controlled rage, but Verden held
herself in check. She was trapped, but not helpless. It
would be the work of a moment to free a claw and rend
the arrogant little nuisance to shreds. But that wouldn’t
solve her problem. “What do you want?” she asked.
*****
When the rest of his tribe found him – right where they
had left him – Glitch I, Highbulp Etc., was sitting on a
rock in the rockfall cavern, his chin resting on his
knuckles. At first, he seemed to be deep in thought; then
the other dwarves noticed that he was asleep.
They gathered around him, curious. Old Gandy
walked around him, then prodded him with his mop
handle staff to get his attention. “What Highbulp doin’?”
he asked.
Glitch blinked, raised his head and looked around.
“What?”
“Why Highbulp sittin’ here?”
“Thinkin’,” Glitch said, irritated at being awakened.
“Highbulp doin’ big think.”
“Soun’ ‘sleep, thinkin’? Think ’bout what?”
Glitch scratched his head, trying to remember what he
had been thinking about. From the shadowed rockfall
beyond, a voice thin with exasperation said, “He’s trying
to decide what he wants from me.”
The voice so startled the gully dwarves that several of
them tripped over others, and for a moment the place was
a tumble of confusion. Then Gandy stooped to look under
the rocks. “Dragon? That still you?”
“It’s still me,” Verden Leaf glow assured him. “I can’t
believe that little oaf went to sleep. I thought he was
thinking.”
“Highbulp always go to sleep, when try to think,”
Gandy explained. “Think about what?”
“I am prepared to offer you stinking little . . . you
people . . . something that you want, in return for delivery
of my self-stone. SO WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE
GODS IS IT THAT YOU WANT?”
Gully dwarves tumbled about again, some diving for
cover, some running for the exit. With a hiss, Verden
exhaled a jet of noxious vapor – just a small stream, but
aimed directly at the exit tunnel. Gully dwarves darting
into the mist recoiled, gasping and coughing, tumbling
backward as the green fumes assailed them. “No running
away!” Verden commanded. “We are going to settle this,
here and now! Tell me what you idiots want.”
The Grand Notioner looked around him, puzzled.
“Want? Dunno. Anybody know what we want?”
“Stew,” several offered. “Out,” a few others said.
“Rats?” someone wondered.
“Make up your minds,” the dragon hissed.
“We find self-stone, give to you, you give us
somethin’?” Gandy pressed, trying to get it clear.
“Yes.”
“What you give us?”