Free Silver Shadows by Elaine Cunningham

dwarf scrambled to his feet. She tossed him a dagger, which he nimbly caught. He took off down one of the corridors, beckoning her to follow. Arilyn noted with relief that he could walk silently when he chose to do so.
    True to his word, the dwarf led her to a massive locked door, before which stood three enormous men, all of whom were armed with wickedly curved scimitars. Also true to his word, fighting was something the dwarf could do well. In record time, the unlikely pair of conspirators stood over the downed guards.
    The dwarf ran the back of one hand across his damp forehead and then regarded it, his bearded face twisted with disgust. “Sad state of affairs,” he muttered. “Must be gittin’ soft—shouldn’t a broke a sweat on those three!”
    Arilyn suppressed a smile. She and the dwarf dragged the guards to the well and tossed them in, then returned to the treasure rooms. With the dwarf looking on, the half-elf went to work. From her waterproof bag she took a small wooden box—unwittingly provided by her new “employer,” Madame Penelope—and tossed a bit of the yellow powder at the door. There was no telltale blue light—no magic at work. Motioning the dwarf to stand back, she bent to examine the lock. It was trapped, of course, not once but thrice over, and it took her the better part of two hours’ work to disable the lethal devices.
    At last the door swung open on noiseless hinges. Arilyn edged into the first room, the dwarf following on her heels like a squat shadow.
    The treasure rooms were utterly silent and darker than a moonless night, but both the dwarf and the half—
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The Harpers
    elf possessed eyes that were keenly sensitive to heat and neither felt the need of torch or candle. As they passed from one room to another, the dwarfs eyes widened into avaricious circles, his mouth fixed in a permanent “ooh!” of wonder. His awe was not misplaced, for this was beyond doubt the most unusual collection Arilyn had ever seen. Many of the items were priceless; most were extremely valuable; some were merely odd.
    There were rare musical instruments, including, a six-foot harp with a soundboard that had been carved into the shape of a woman whose gilded fingers were poised over the strings. Magical, Arilyn surmised— awaiting a command to set it playing. Paintings, sculpture, and carvings from many lands filled several chambers. The art of taxidermy was also represented: rare beasts, some of which had not been seen alive for several generations, filled an entire room. There were piles of coins from every land Arilyn had ever heard named, and enough rare books to satisfy a dozen voracious scholars. There was an entire shelf of brilliantly colored vases, fashioned by fire salamanders from melted semiprecious gems. There were jewel-encrusted swords, crowns of long-dead monarchs, court gowns embroidered with silk thread and seed pearls, and a golden scepter inscribed with the runes of some far-eastern lands. Among these treasures of gems and gold Arilyn finally found the item she sought: a delicate, filigreed tiara set with a multitude of pale purple amethysts.
    The Harper carefully wrapped the crown in a soft cloth and tucked it into her bag. Time to go,” she said, turning to her dwarven shadow.
    “That’s it? That’s all we’re taking outta here?” the dwarf demanded. When Arilyn nodded, he immediately began to snatch up small items and stuff them into his pockets. “Back wages,” he said in a defensive tone. “Been working here for more’n ten years. Fm owed.”
    Arilyn didn’t begrudge the dwarf his due, but gold was heavy, and she worried about the weight ha was

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    adding to his already considerable bulk. “We’re swimming out,” she cautioned him.
    The dwarf abruptly ceased his looting and stared at her, his face growing pale above his beard. “Not the well spring?”
    When the Harper nodded, he groaned and then shrugged. “Ah, well. Always knowed I’d be a-goin’