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her companions forward, deeper into the dungeon. Thankfully, the cavern was lit by only a few flickering torches, and it was easy for the three small trespassers to hide in the somber shadows.
“Look,” Oki whispered with a gesture of his paw. “It’s our old friend, Fiddlewick himself.”
The Dwarf had been resting half-asleep on a stool at the far end of the dungeon, but now he rose to meet the Dwarven Taskmaster and his chain gang of Ungers. It was Kendra’s first good look at Fiddlewick; before, she had been trying to look at him through the disguise of the cloak. Now she could see that he was holding a heavy club, and on his belt was a ring of rusted keys, which were obviously for the many cages in the dungeon.
“Eh, Druffle,” Fiddlewick said to the Dwarf leading the Ungers. “You ain’t seen Ornelius have ya?”
“Ain’t he supposed to be here?” Druffle asked.
“He run off in them mines,” Fiddlewick said. “But he’s the unreliable sort anyway, I reckon.”
“The king will rake his hide,” Druffle said. “But I guess that’s goin’ to be his problem. Well, here’s this lazy lot of brutes. You can get ‘em fed and slumbered. They got a whole lot of minin’ to do tomorrow. Hee Hee.”
Kendra and her friends watched as the two Dwarves unchained Trooogul and the other Ungers and herded each of them into a cell. With this done, Druffle slung his whip over his shoulder and took his leave from the dungeon, returning (Kendra supposed) back to the mines.
“I never knew that Ungers and such smelt this bad,” Ratchet commented from their hiding place. He covered his nose, for indeed, the stench was awful.
“They . . . they don’t,” Kendra murmured. “It’s this place. It’s this dirty dungeon.”
There was a large cauldron bubbling in the center of the room, and now Fiddlewick began dishing out bowls of thick gray gruel for the newly-arrived slaves. With the completion of this task, the cheerful Dwarf settled himself back down on his stool.
“What now?” Oki asked.
“You two stay here,” Kendra answered. “I’m going to bust Trooogul free.”
“How?” Ratchet asked.
“Do you have any Snore Galore left?” Kendra asked. “I’m going to put Fiddlewick asleep.”
“Of course,” Ratchet said, handing the small pouch to her. “But do you think this is such a wise idea?”
“Trooogul won’t hurt me, if that’s what you mean,” Kendra said firmly.
“How can you be so sure?” Oki squeaked. “He’s an Unger, after all. And that’s what Ungers do. They hurt Eens.”
“He didn’t last time,” Kendra said.
“Oki’s right,” Ratchet said. “You can’t trust those critters. Look, everyone knows that.”
“Well, maybe I know something too,” Kendra declared in a determined voice.
“Forget it, Ratchet,” Oki said with a groan. “You won’t talk her out of it now.”
“Well, here, you better take my Easy Sneeze , too,” Ratchet said, pressing a second pouch into Kendra’s small hands. “It’s the last of my powders, but take it, just in case. You can throw it at that fellow if he decides to take a swipe at you.”
“He won’t,” Kendra assured the raccoon, but just to satisfy him, she took the sneezing powder anyway.
Kendra turned and crept through the shadows, towards the stool where Fiddlewick was sitting and whistling happily. As she got closer, Kendra noticed a small ridge of rock that ran up behind him. She scaled the ridge quickly, and before long, she was perched just above him. As quietly as she could, she sprinkled some of the Snore Galore down upon the Dwarf guard. He instantly fell asleep and Kendra quickly scrambled down to the floor. She unhooked the keys from Fiddlewick’s belt before turning to face the rows of cages. She had been careful to watch which cage Trooogul had been locked up in, but it now took her a moment to scan the wall to relocate it. The pens were deep and dark, and it was not easy to see the prisoners they
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