THE PATH SLIDES UNDER HIS HOOVES, crumbling down into the molten orange river below. Scrambling, muscles bunching, hooves digging in, Knots manages to get up onto the more stable portion of the path next to Duskwalker. She says nothing, too busy leaning forward to look at something in the lava.

    “What?” Knots asks.

    “What is that?” She says at the same time.

    Flicking an ear, Knots shakes himself free of the last five minutes of stress and turns to follow her gaze. It takes a moment to find it amongst the debris scattered atop the lava and sinking below, but he spots a riot of color and a flash of metal and gasps in utter despair. “Noooo.”

    Unlike the dark, overgrown first level of the dungeon, the furnace is lit by its own permanent glow. There are some spots, admittedly, that are sheltered from the lava and are dark enough to need a lantern, but he and Duskwalker had been out in the open and had no need for their lanterns, tucking them away onto his packs. It seems, however, that his wasn’t on securely enough, and in the scramble fell free and tumbled down with the crumbling path into the lava.

    It’s still bedazzled from the pixies, shards of gemstones and mica shining in the orange-tinted light. He had never been able to get it all off. Although, admittedly, he hadn’t tried very hard – he quite liked his stained-glass lantern and the rainbow of colors it plastered against the walls when lit.

    As they watch, the metal grows shiny and gooey, sinking away and forever lost.

    “I liked that lantern,” Knots says sadly.

    Duskwalker bumps him. “It was growing on me, too,” she admits. “Hey – maybe we can get you another one and find some pixies to shine it up again? Do you think they’d trade for it?”

    Knots perks up. “Oh! Maybe!” He glances back at where his lantern disappeared. “Maybe if I bring them a bunch of gems they’ll do it? They could keep some, too. I don’t mind.”