Tired Of Death

"So how did you know Sprat's consciousness would come back into his body if he died?" asked Cuthbert.

Dreth shook his head. "I didn't. The plan was to sneak past while they were fighting."

Cuthbert looked shocked. "You mean…?"

"Here we are," said Dreth, interrupting.

The undead looked at the black door in the side of the mound.

"Let's see if this fits then shall we?" Dreth waved the key they had extracted from the runebox that had been stuck to the Golem's body. He pushed it into the keyhole and turned. There was a click.

"Give it a push Percy," Dreth nodded his head.

Percy frowned, but pushed at the door, which swung open with a creak. He peered inside. "All clear."

They entered and looked about. It was a small round room, decorated with exotic tapestries and lit by magical lights. At the far end was another door, made of fine wood inlaid with gold and silver.

"Finally, we made it." Dreth stepped forward and then stopped abruptly as a small pink imp popped into being.

"Congratulations! You have reached the treasure! The Dungeon management salutes you brave adventurers… Wait a minute, you're not adventurers!"

"Does it matter?" Dreth asked.

"Well, no not really," said the imp. He shrugged. "I'm just a messenger. Help yourself." He gestured at the door.

Dreth and the others stepped into the furthest room and looked about. There was a small pile of gold coins and a c.h.e.s.t.

"Where's the loot?" asked Percy.

"You're looking at it," replied the imp.

"This?" Dreth. He stepped forward, knelt down and opened the c.h.e.s.t. It was empty except for a short black stick in the bottom. He looked up. "Where is it imp? Where's your wondrous treasure?"

"It's not my treasure, I already told you," the creature replied. "And this is it, really."

"But the fabled treasure!"

"It's not that simple," explained the messenger. "You see, contrary to popular belief, adventurers find the treasure all the time, and what with the current budget cutbacks it just hasn't been restocked in a while." The imp expanded his arms in a kindly fashion. "Look, if you just wait until the new fiscal century, we'll have a big pile of gold, jewels and all manner of exciting magical…"

"I'm not waiting for the next bloody hundred years!" shouted Dreth, standing up and stepping forward in a definitely menacing fashion.

The imp skipped backwards, hands held out in front of him. "Nono no! Wouldn't be a hundred years! Fifty maybe sixty, tops."

"One lousy wand and a few coins! I had more than that back in my chambers." Dreth wasn't listening.

"Ah! But this isn't any old wand!" The imp was pressed against the wall now.

"What does it do then?" asked Percy.

Seeing Dreth halt his advance for a moment, the imp talked fast. "It's a wand of All Things, one of the premium magical artifacts of our time. One of a kind practically! You won't find another like that in a hurry oh no."

"A Wand of All Things eh?" Dreth said. "So what's it doing left behind then? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, honest, practically brand new it is."

"Tell the truth midget, or I'll put my sword to work on you. It doesn't have any charges left, does it?" Dreth patted Darkblood as he waited for an answer. The sword hummed.

The imp's eyes flicked to the blade and back again. "No, I mean yes! Yes it does. Well, er ok. It has one charge left and er..."

"And what?"

"Well, truth be told, it's a bit… picky."

"A bit picky!?! A bit picky!! I slog through crazed Golems, invisible cat men, mad wizards, medusas, giants, wild elves and angry dragons for a magic wand that's a 'bit picky'!!" He waved Darkblood. "Here, let me show you picky!"

"Oh, leave the imp alone." A voice came from the door.

The undead swiveled around, to see Redthorne standing there. Behind him was a small group of dark elves. One was holding the baby, another was holding a black dagger to Emerald's neck.

"You!" Percy said.

"Me," said the wizard. "I'm glad to see you again Dreth, even though you seem to have lost some weight." He gestured at an elf in finer armor than the rest. "Allow me to introduce Harm Undertow, Dark elf commander."

The elf bowed slightly. "At last we meet," he said. "You have led us quite a merry chase."

"You're working with them?" asked Dreth.

"We came to an… agreement," replied the mage. "Now, the only thing is, I want the wand."

"I see. And what if I say no?"

"Oh, there's no need for unpleasantness," said Redthorne. "I can supply you with information in return for it."

"What kind of information?" Dreth asked, still holding Darkblood.

"I know the location of someone who can release you from your contract."

"But the wand could do that."

"Maybe, maybe not. In any case, we need the wand."

"You can't hurt me wizard, the Spite stops you casting any spells."

A female in long robes stepped forward. "I've released the wizard from that curse."

Dreth looked at the assembled elves and then back at the wand. Why couldn't things go his way, just once?