All That Glitters Read Online Free

seething plant matter that seemed to have swallowed something very displeased to be ingested.
    Tyvian ran, almost slipping on the uneven floor, and skipped past another two plant monsters before reaching the pile under which Artus struggled. He turned and blasted the two things he’d passed and guessed, judging by the speed of the creatures, he had about seven seconds to get Artus out of there before being consumed himself. He glanced at the wand—­immolating Artus was probably not the best solution. Hmmm . . . what then?
    Artus’s foot thrust out of the pile, sans boot. Tyvian reflexively grabbed him by the ankle and tried to pull, but the boy’s skin was coated in slippery, smelly ooze and he was engulfed anew by his captors. If he was going to drag Artus out, Tyvian knew he would need a much better grip, ideally around the lad’s waist.
    That meant getting dirty. Really, really dirty.
    Tyvian took a deep breath. “Kroth’s bloody teeth, it’s come to this, has it?” He looked at the rope and snapped his fingers. “Here!”
    The rope’s Lumenal and Dweomeric enchantments blazed to life; it tied itself around the waist of the Isra statue, and then its free end flew through the air and into Tyvian’s hand. Securing the rope around his own waist, Tyvian took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and dove in.
    The experience of wading through an animated mass of rotting vegetables was one that he did his very best not to record. He could feel the slimy ooze soaking through his shirt, he could hear it squishing and sloshing in his ear canals, and he was certain it was trying to crawl up his nose. Tyvian pretended he was receiving a mud bath in a Verisi spa, which helped diminish his inherent sense of disgust right up until Artus accidentally kicked him in the chin. This caused Tyvian’s mouth to open, and the whole illusion was ruined forever.
    He roared silently and groped until he found Artus. It wasn’t difficult—­the plant-­things were piling on top of them, crushing them together, seeking to drown them in a seething morass of moldy fruit rinds and deliquescent lettuce. Tyvian grabbed Artus around the waist with one arm and began to pull on the rope with the other. In any other situation this would have been a physical impossibility for Tyvian or even for a man three times Tyvian’s size and strength, but he had the ring, and the ring liked it when he rushed to the rescue.
    The sun-­bright power of the iron ring pulsed on Tyvian’s right hand, sending waves of superhuman strength through his arms and legs. Artus wrapped his arms around Tyvian, which freed the smuggler to pull the rope bit by bit, hand over hand. The plant-­things tried to stop him, they threw all their weight over him, but they couldn’t prevent Tyvian’s inexorable escape. Suddenly, as quickly as he had gone in, Tyvian found himself emerging from the rotting depths of the creatures. He and Artus broke free with a pop.
    Artus fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, but Tyvian grabbed him by the belt and pulled him to his feet before the plant-­things could swallow him up again. Tyvian pushed him toward the statue. “The chimney! Climb out!”
    Artus snatched up Tyvian’s pack as he ran to the center of the room; he was still wearing his own. Tyvian cast about for the blasting wand but didn’t know what became of it—­probably somewhere in the depths of those things . The whole chamber seemed awash in them now, all of them oozing and shambling and crawling slowly toward the two thieves. Tyvian darted to Artus’s side and, freeing the rope around himself, ordered it to the top of the chimney, where it dutifully flew and secured itself to an exposed root. Tyvian pointed up. “Go! Quickly!”
    Artus climbed with both packs as fast as Tyvian did with none—­something to be said for the power of terror—­and