Glix huffed dragging a too-full sack of treasure behind him. Catching his breath, the thief glanced to strong-shouldered Oris ahead of him. The warrior’s bag of loot was modest but well chosen.
Then, down a root-bound staircase, he spied a sparkle of color.
Glix’s eyes narrowed. Oris ahead of him and unaware he was no longer following, he unsheathed his knife abandoning dungeoneering partner and loot sack alike.
“The oaf needn’t know,” he muttered, slipping down the stairs. “A secret snatch needn’t be shared!”
He slashed through cobwebs with his knife. The chamber was dark, but illuminated in a dusty finger of light lay a leather purse. Spilling from its open mouth were multicolored gems.
“Well!” Glix grinned over the treasure. “How’d you lovelies end up here?”
He shook the purse, the jingle of gemstones and the glint of their finely cut facets widening his smile.
“And Oris will never—”
In a rush from the gloom, eight hairy legs embraced him. Fangs to his throat, he was hoisted up into darkness with a squawk.
Oris shouldered his friend’s abandoned sack of loot. “Glix! Where are you? Night falls! I must go!”
Down a root-bound stair, a leather purse falls from a ceiling shrouded in webs. Slapping the floor, its spilled gems sparkle in the last rays of twilight.
Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.