Author's note: Thanks a bunch, everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Whoo! I'm almost at 50 reviews now! (Don't laugh, Penname wa Silver B. ;) ) Also, welcome to the story, Master of Words. Please, come in and stay awhile.

Chapter 7: A Helping Hand

Xanos had survived many things: his mother's hatred, resentful siblings, frozen wastelands – even an angry, torch-waving mob. Had he come so far only to have his glorious life snuffed out by a bunch of overgrown creepy-crawlies?

Not likely, he thought, running his fingers across the ring that adorned his left hand. In seconds, Mystra's Hand would transport him to the safety of Drogan's home, far away from any loathsome poisonous creatures. If such a tactic did not occur to the scarecrow girl, it was her own fault for insisting on this foolhardy errand.

Xanos wished her luck with the poison.

Before he had finished gloating, his attention was drawn by a string of chanted arcane syllables. The moisture lifted from his skin and throat, gathering into a pale mist above him.

"Watch your heads," Szaren cautioned from the doorway, and then everything seemed to happen at once.

The spiders surged forward, engulfing the adventurers. Two of them slammed into Xanos' chest, hurling him backwards to the floor. A third darted in to bite his arm, but its mandibles clicked shut on air as something heavy crashed into it from above.

All around him, huge chunks of ice whistled through the air. Screeches echoed throughout the chamber as the hailstones found their marks, but the spiders were not the only ones at risk. Xanos rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow that could have cracked his skull.

Another chunk of ice shattered painfully against his chest as he scrambled to a crouch. By ducking beneath a protruding shelf of stone, Xanos was able to dodge the rest of the incoming projectiles. At last, the air returned to normal and everything grew still.

Xanos straightened and took a look around. The ice seemed to have killed almost every spider, and those that were still moving were only twitching in death throes. The room was awash in greenish brown goop. Aside from a few shallow scrapes across his breastbone, Xanos had escaped untouched.

There was only one problem.

"Aurora?" he called, scanning the crypt for a sign of the rogue. He saw nothing but her sword, laying where it had fallen near the center of the room.

Then, in the far corner of the crypt, a glittering hand emerged from behind a stone sarcophagus and waved frantically. "A little help, here?"

Jogging over, Xanos was met with an odd sight. Aurora was on her back in the small space between the wall and the sarcophagus. A spider with three missing legs was bearing down on her, its mandibles mere inches from her face. Her sword was gone, but by bending one knee to her chest she had been able to plant her boot firmly against the creature's abdomen and keep it at bay.

"Hurry," she said through gritted teeth. "My leg is getting tired."

Xanos regained his composure and plunged his dagger into the spider just behind its gleaming ring of eyes. It waved its legs and jerked from side to side, trying to dislodge the weapon, but succeeded only in spattering Aurora and Xanos with ichor. Its legs went rigid, then limp.

Curling her lip in distaste, Aurora shoved hard with her foot and flung the dead spider aside.

"How in the nine hells did you end up back there?" Xanos demanded.

"I'm not sure," she said, grabbing the edge of the sarcophagus and pulling herself to her feet. "I was a tad preoccupied with dodging hailstones the size of cantaloupes."

"My, my." Szaren crossed the room to join them, taking mincing steps to avoid messing his shoes with spider remains. "What a pretty mess that was. Imagine what might have happened had you not consented to my offer."

"You could have killed us, Szaren." As always, Aurora's hand played across her empty scabbard when she spoke to the wizard. Xanos doubted was a conscious gesture.

"I suppose I could have." The Red Wizard nodded, conceding the point. "But those spiders most certainly would have, had I not intervened."

Aurora surveyed the carcasses that littered the floor. "Perhaps," she admitted. "I just would have preferred a spell with less chance of smashing me into paste."

"I see." Szaren bowed lavishly. "Though your life is, indeed, still quite intact, I apologize for not having a spell on hand that would target giant spiders exclusively."

"Don't get your leathers in a twist, Aurora," Xanos said. "The wizard's actions saved us from a grisly fate, or at least the waste of a focus crystal. Do you hear Xanos complaining?"

"No, for once. In fact, it seems the two of you are getting along marvelously." She regarded him frostily. "And you might want to think about why that is."

"Perhaps Szaren and I are able to eye to eye because Xanos is not blinded by the glare of his own self-righteousness." Xanos glanced at the wizard, who was following the exchange between the students in a detached sort of way. "Just when did you become the paragon of morality, anyway, Aurora? You are starting to remind me of a certain other vapid blonde."

"If the two of you are really so much alike, perhaps I'd be better off going on alone." She turned her back on him and started for the door, but her first step planted her boot directly atop a slippery mound of spider innards.

She gasped as her feet went out from under her, but Xanos had been paying attention. Stepping forward, he caught her around the waist and shoulders before she hit the ground. He laughed triumphantly. "Does that answer your question, impudent girl? Where would you be without Xanos to compensate for your clumsiness and general lack of worth?"

Aurora's face flared bright pink beneath the silvery sheen of glitterdust. At first Xanos was gratified by her embarrassment, but such wordless mortification seemed out of character for the normally sedate rogue. He stared blankly as her blush deepened to scarlet, gradually noticing certain things he had overlooked before. Such as how the way he had caught her left her leaning backwards in his arms as if he was dipping her on the dance floor. And that his hand had somehow slipped beneath her jerkin, and was now flush against her bare back.

"When the two of you have finished snuggling, there are egg sacs we need to destroy." Szaren's comment broke their paralysis, and Aurora was nearly toppled to the floor again in their mutual haste to disengage.

"We were not snuggling!" Xanos and Aurora exclaimed in twin tones of outrage, once a safe distance had been restored between them.

Faced with the combined heat of their incensed glares, even the Red Wizard quailed. "My mistake," he said soothingly. "But the eggs . . ."

"Right!" Aurora said too quickly. "I'll get rid of the ones over here." The rogue picked up her sword from the floor and busied herself with crushing one of the yellow-white sacs.

Clearing his throat and not making eye contact with anyone in the room, Xanos saw to the destruction of any future spider generations with a few stamps of his boot.

Once this was finished, he headed for the door. "Let us see what that witless ghost has to tell us," he said.

Nilmaldor took physical form when they entered his tomb, somber as ever.

Aurora approached the apparition. "The task is done, for what it's worth."

Nilmaldor nodded, gracing her with a melancholy smile. "I sensed as much. I thank the Seldarine that the world of the living has not gone entirely to the dogs in my absence. Er, what happened to all of your glitter, mortal?"

Xanos had not noticed that the glitter had faded until Nilmaldor mentioned it, and apparently neither had Aurora.

"I don't care, as long as it's gone for good," she said. "I'd have a terrible time trying to conceal myself in the shadows covered in that."

"Oh." The empty pits serving as Nilmaldor's eyes seemed mournful. "That is unfortunate. It was a strange style, to be sure, but one that complemented your form."

Xanos scowled at the spirit. "Are you going to tell us how to take care of the kobolds or not? Xanos grows impatient with your dithering!"

"I was getting there," Nilmaldor said huffily. "The room in which the kobolds have hidden themselves contains the workings of an elaborate trap. In the center of the room lies a pressure sensitive plate. Step upon it, and poisonous gas will waft into the room."

Szaren raised an eyebrow. "And you expect the three of us to . . . what? Hold our breaths?"

"Of course not!" Nilmaldor's exasperated sigh breezed through Xanos' mind. "I may be old and dead, but I'm far from stupid."

Politically, Xanos refrained from comment.

"There's another room beyond the one containing the trap," the ghost continued. "It's hidden, but now that you know it's there you should be able to find it without much trouble. Inside it is a lever and several helmets that will protect you from the effects of the gas. Pull the lever to activate the trap, put on the helmets, and then step on the pressure plate."

"That . . . That actually seems like it will be quite helpful. Thank you, Nilmaldor." She curtsied neatly, holding out the edges of her cloak in place of a skirt. "May your rest go untroubled from now on."

"How polite you are to a lonely spirit, my dear," Nilmaldor mused. "Pay a visit now and again, won't you?"

"Yes, I'll be sure to do that." Behind her back, Aurora gestured fervently at the door.

The three began to move in that direction as Nilmaldor's mental speech rang out one final time.

"Mmm, have a look at her rear in those leathers . . . It's almost enough to make me wish I were alive again."

Xanos, Szaren, and Aurora all looked down in puzzlement at the thick wool cloak that completely concealed the anatomy to which Nilmaldor was referring. Unless . . .

"But if you can see through that cloth," Xanos began, "can you not see through – "

"Oh yes, I most certainly can," Nilmaldor finished for him. "Nothing in the tomb of Ascalhorn is hidden from my sight. There are perks to this job, you know."

There was horror in Aurora's eyes as she ushered them into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Xanos would not mind having that particular ability." He smirked, thinking of the possibilities. Listening to one of Mischa's endless lectures on morality would be a far sight more tolerable.

"If the spirit can truly see anywhere in this tomb, your maidenly virtue is no safer out here," Szaren pointed out.

Aurora quickened her pace. "I'm going to go find that room." Xanos tried to follow her movements, but soon enough she was lost among the shadows.

"There seems to be bad blood between the two of you," Szaren said when she was gone. "Why is that, if I may ask?"

"Because Aurora is a smart-mouthed, ungrateful, sarcastic whelp of a girl," Xanos replied without hesitation.

Szaren chuckled. "An interesting choice of words." He smiled at Xanos as if they were sharing a joke. Xanos did not return the look, and Szaren's expression became thoughtful. "Ah, so she has not told you. I expected as much."

"Has not told me . . ?"

Szaren brushed away his question with one of his own. "So, then, what do you know of Aurora Dawn's life before her arrival at Hilltop?"

Xanos pondered the question. Wracking his mind, he could not think of a single instance that Aurora had mentioned how she had ended up with master Drogan. It had never before occurred to him how little he knew of her, but such mutual secrecy was normal among the old dwarf's students. He knew next to nothing of Mischa or Dorna, either.

"From her behavior earlier, Xanos deduces that she is less than fond of Red Wizards," he said, just to avoid being completely silent.

"That is an understatement." Szaren said, chuckling. "But it is a start. It would be in your best interest to unearth the rest, if you can. Remember, knowledge is the root of all control."

Xanos looked at him askance. "Again you speak of control, wizard. Are you trying to tell me that skinny little Aurora is a danger to the great Xanos?"

Szaren shrugged, smoothing his scarlet robes unconcernedly. A moment later, Aurora stepped out of the shadows and waved them over.

"Why, speak of the devil," Szaren said lightly, and Aurora froze.

"What have you told him?" she asked sharply.

Szaren clucked his tongue. "Sticking your nose into other people's conversations is a sign of poor breeding, my dear. Speaking of which . . ." He turned back to Xanos. "Would you consider yourself a dog person, my friend?"

Aurora's face turned paler by several shades, heightening the fevered gleam in her eyes.

Xanos was equally baffled by Szaren's question and Aurora's reaction. "Yes, yes," he said irritably. "The crow flies at midnight and Elminster carries a crooked staff. Can we stop speaking in code now?"

At his words the color began to return to Aurora's complexion.

"I hope so," she said, glaring at Szaren.

"Good. Now, did you find the room we need?"

As it turned out, she had. On the way, she had also found another armed group of kobolds hiding behind a row of pillars. Getting the less sneaky members of the trio past them proved to be no problem, once Szaren created a pair of lightning bolts and sent them ricocheting about the chamber. By the time the spell expired, there was little more than scorch marks and a lingering whiff of ozone where the lizards had been.

At last, they reached the secret room. It was little more than a closet, really, with a door made out of stone that blended nearly seamlessly into the surrounding wall. As Nilmaldor had described, there was a metal lever protruding from one side of the room, and four stands with oddly constructed helmets on the other.

Xanos picked up one of the helms, only to have it crumble to dust in his fingers. "Hmph. These must have been around even before that spectral nincompoop's corpse had grown cold."

"That's not good," Aurora said glumly, withdrawing her hand from the lever. "There's no point in activating that pressure plate now, assuming it would have worked anyway."

"Then how do we deal with the kobolds?" Xanos wiped the remnants of the ancient helmet on his trousers. "Alone they are weak, but by the dozen they could be dangerous even to one such as Xanos."

"The kobolds are confused, weak, and frightened," Szaren said. "Why not simply persuade them to hand over the artifact you seek?" There was a gleam in the wizard's eyes that made the skin on the back of Xanos's neck prickle, but Aurora slowly nodded.

"It's worth a try," she said. "The kobolds at the Bubbling Cauldron were willing to bargain, once they were desperate enough."

"You're joking, aren't you?" Xanos watched, incredulously, as Szaren and Aurora walked to the door of the chamber in which the kobolds had barricaded themselves. "Of course not," he muttered, falling in step behind them.

Aurora gave the door three sharp raps.

"Yip. Who be you?" The voice was high-pitched and scratchy, reminding Xanos of an old woman that had smoked a pipe for decades. "You be gnoll? You comes to kill us? We barricades door, so you not gets in! Yip yip!"

"No, I'm not a gnoll," Aurora said, raising her voice to be heard through the door. "I've come to speak with your leader, not kill you."

"Hmmm. . . You not sounds like gnoll. . . but how me knows me can trusts you, yip? There be lots things down here that tries to kills us! Maybe . . . maybe you be skeleton!"

Xanos stifled a chuckle. "Xanos has had similar thoughts."

Aurora stomped on his foot. "I'm not a skeleton, either. I'm the only person who can help you escape this tomb alive."

Xanos thought that her delivery was melodramatic, but it seemed to have the desired effect on the kobold.

"Me unlocks door and you steps away," the lizard said. "You come and speaks to Urko at back of room. But you puts weapons away! If you pulls weapons, you dies!"

"Deal." Aurora stood back from the door as it opened. The kobold blinked up at them, dwarfed by the doorway.

"Um . . . There be three of you? That be too many weapons to keeps track of, yip! You puts your hands on back of head or not comes in at all, grr!"

Aurora and Szaren laced their fingers together behind their heads. Rolling his eyes, Xanos followed suit.

The room was full to the brim with kobolds. Walking into the midst of them with his hands raised and his weapons out of reach made Xanos more than a little nervous, but the three made it to the back of the room without incident.

"Here, boss," said the kobold who had let them inside. "Here be one that says she helps us escape, yip!"

Another kobold, who Xanos guessed was Urko, looked Aurora up and down.

"Yip, yip, grrr! Who be you, skinny human? How you helps us get out of tomb?"

"Yes, how?" Xanos echoed under his breath. The whole situation was ridiculous. What ever happened to having an actual plan?

"I am Spellafina, mistress of the arcane arts," Aurora answered, deadpan. "And I offer the protection that my unfathomable magical abilities can provide."

Xanos' jaw went slack. There was a choking sound from Szaren that could have been born of laughter or horror.

"Why you does that? Urko knows humans not helps kobolds for nothing, yip!"

Aurora thought for a long moment, during which Xanos could feel every solitary drop of sweat beading on the back of his neck.

"I require something through which to focus my magic," she said at last. "Some sort of powerful relic, perhaps. In return, all I ask is to be allowed to keep whatever object I used."

"Wait . . . How you knows we gots relic, yip?"

That question visibly threw Aurora for a loop. Amazingly, it was Szaren who came to the relic.

"Do not question the ways of Spellafina," he said. "What she knows, she simply . . . knows." As he spoke, the wizard slowly loosened his fingers enough to make a small gesture, and for a moment Aurora was bathed in rose-colored light. She gasped, but the sound was hidden amongst the scramblings of frightened kobolds.

"Okays, we gives the relic," Urko cried. "No hurts us, scary glowy woman!" He thrust a cloth-wrapped something in her direction. Xanos watched as she unwrapped it, not knowing what to expect.

It was a hand. A dried up, bony, human hand, severed at the wrist. Aurora picked it up gingerly and dangled it as far away from herself as possible, as if it were a dead spider.

"Now you helps us like you promised, grr yip!"

"Of course," she said, bowing her head. Straightening, she waved the mummified hand through the air in a figure eight. "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo, ride a cock horse to Banburry Cross . . ."

If his hands were not behind his head, Xanos would have buried his face in his palms.

Aurora pirouetted, shaking the hand at each corner of the room. "Oh, great hand of, uh . . . Wrinkles von Mummystein . . . grant to these good kobolds your finest protection!" She gave the hand a final, decisive shake at Urko.

With a dry creak, the fingers of the dead hand unfurled, pointing directly at the kobold chief.

"Runs away!" came the familiar cry, and every last kobold fled the room.

"Spellafina?" Xanos sputtered. "Where was your head, fool?"

"We have the artifact, don't we?" Aurora smiled at him. "You can put your hands down now, you know."

Grumbling, Xanos dropped his arms to his sides. "That means we are a quarter of the way to reaching our goal. Forgive Xanos for not breaking out the champagne just yet." He turned away from the rogue. "Still, that trick with the hand was a nice touch, Szaren."

Szaren shook his head. "That was not of my doing."

"Well, it certainly wasn't little miss 'mistress of the arcane'," Xanos said, disconcerted. The girl had barely managed to master the workings of the Hand of Mystra, let alone anything more complicated.

Szaren took a step toward Aurora. "Allow me to have a look, if you would. With the amount of experience I have in the magical item trade, there's a good chance I'll recognize it."

Aurora looked doubtfully to Xanos.

"Go on," he urged. "If Szaren wanted to steal the artifact, he would have already set off a fireball in your face and done so."

"Quite right," the Red Wizard agreed. Reluctantly, Aurora let him take the relic. Szaren studied it closely, turning it this way and that. At last he nodded and handed it back.

"I have read of this artifact in several scholarly texts," Szaren said. "I am quite sure it is the hand of Belpheron the Lech."

Xanos peered quizzically at the wizard. "Eh . . . Don't you mean lich?"

"Perhaps it was a misspelling." Szaren lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. "What were you thinking about when the hand moved, Aurora?"

She smiled faintly. "How much I wished we were out of this tomb and searching for the other artifacts."

"It was reacting to her thoughts?" Xanos guessed, catching on.

Szaren grinned. "Let's find out."

At his direction, Aurora picked up the hand and set it atop her own. "Where is the closest artifact?" she asked the empty air.

The hand twitched, curling against her palm, then pointed in the direction it had previously indicated. Aurora grimaced. "That is remarkably unpleasant."

"Be respectful," Szaren admonished. "Such remnants of the dead can hold great power."

The fingers of the mummified hand flexed slowly, pressing the tips of the black nails into Aurora's flesh.

"What is it doing now?" she asked in a small voice. The hand shuddered, and with a sudden lurch launched itself through the air towards Aurora. She stared down in mute horror as it landed squarely on her chest, and gave the flesh there an experimental squeeze.

Years of combat training forgotten, Aurora danced about the cavern, screaming and batting ineffectually at the hand. "Get it off! Get it OFF!"

Xanos shook off his amazement and sprung to the rescue. It was difficult, but eventually he caught hold of the hand and gave it a mighty tug. It released Aurora with a dry snap of ancient tendons.

The fingers, apparently no worse for wear, curled into a thumb's up, and then the relic returned to its former dormancy.

"There, you see?" Szaren crossed his arms smugly. "It wasn't a misspelling after all."