"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Seeing that Torixileos had withdrawn his claws once more and that she didn't have much time, Lynaelle stood awkwardly and took hold of the orc by its collar.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.
"True enough," it said, sitting up and standing. "My name is Starglimmer."
Then, right before Lynaelle's eyes, the orc began to change. Its form shifted, bulged, grew larger yet sleeker. Its features transformed into a reptilian face, all shiny in the girl's magical light. The change had taken only a few heartbeats, but where the orc had stood previously, a silvery dragon, not much taller than Lynaelle herself, held himself proudly.
"Do I have you to thank for saving me from Torixileos and protecting my treasure?" the silver asked, his voice a slightly higher and softer version of the mysterious tones Lynaelle had heard challenging the white.
"I did nothing," Lynaelle said softly, shyly. "Only tried to save myself. Something else seems to have arrived and chased the white dragon away. I heard a second voice."
"That would be Mother," Starglimmer said, "coming to check on me. Torixileos wouldn't stick around if she's here. Come on," the dragon added, moving toward the tunnel.
Lynaelle followed the creature, too overwhelmed to speak.
Out beyond the tunnel leading to the treasure, the main chamber was empty, and as the pair moved toward the domed room with the ice shaft, a great form, larger even than Torixileos, dropped through the ceiling and landed elegantly.
"Mother!" Starglimmer said, rushing toward the much larger dragon, a silver that gleamed like a finely tempered blade in the eerie blue glow. "What happened?"
"Torixileos won't be bothering you ever again," the larger dragon said, and it was, indeed, the honeyed voice Lynaelle had heard before. The sound made the girl want to cry with joy, so comforting it was. "What happened?"
"Torixileos was here when I returned from a jaunt," Starglimmer said. "I had been out hunting with the orcs, hoping to catch wind of any raids they were planning. He caught me by surprise, and I barely managed to slip into a place too small for him to follow before I passed out."
"You should be more careful," the larger dragon admonished. "You're only barely old enough to be out on your own."
"I know," Starglimmer replied, and Lynaelle could hear embarrassment in the tone of his voice.
"Now," the mother said, looking down at Lynaelle, "Who is this?"
Lynaelle blushed as both of the wyrms regarded her.
"I'm Lynaelle Dawnmantle, a humble wizard on her way to Silverymoon."
"Then you are just as foolish as my son, here," the huge silver said. "No one should be using the pass this time of year, especially not young girls unescorted. How did you end up in here?"
"I was captured by Torixileos and brought here to help him recover 'his' treasure." When the larger dragon cocked her head sideways at that last comment, Lynaelle hurriedly added, "He told me that Starglimmer was actually an orc thief, but I didn't believe him."
"And how did you know, Lynaelle Dawnmantle?" the massive dragon asked, her voice rumbling, though it sounded to the girl as though there was appreciation in the creature's words. "How did you figure out that he was not what he seemed?"
"Just a guess, really," the half-elf replied. "No orc planning to thieve a dragon's treasure would haul the entire hoard deeper into the tunnels and freeze it there. But I didn't realize that Starglimmer wasn't really an orc until I began to wonder why Torixileos needed me to help him kill it. Why didn't the dragon just blast it with his icy breath? Once the 'ore' told me that Torixileos was actually the thief, I began to understand-that treasure definitely belongs to a dragon, not an orc.
"I remembered my teacher, Ambriel, telling me once that silver dragons often take on the form of humans and other people to interact with them. And like white dragons, silvers are at home in the cold. The cold can't hurt you, and you very easily could have protected your treasure by freezing it. An orc couldn't survive Torixileos' breath, but a silver dragon disguised as one could. I figured it out just in time."
"Very clever, little Lynaelle," the larger dragon said, seeming to smile. "And if this Ambriel you speak of is who I think he is, then he would know the truth of the matter about silvers."
Lynaelle's eyes widened slightly and she asked, "You know my teacher?"