The first place I checked was the sconce which led to my unfortunate meeting with Kirinhalut, so there should still be plenty left for the Beautiful Beasts.  Enough time had passed that my former comrades should be masquerading as dispatched undead minions as well, with all their loot up for grabs.  Kiri seemed to understand my thoughts and gave me a squeeze that should have broken my arm, but merely flattened it.  You could have helped them, but you didn’t, her voice spoke in my mind.  The poor damsel in distress just needed help so badly, didn’t she?  Her laughter bounced around inside my skull, exacerbating the guilt I already felt.

Through the prison of Kiri’s fingers I heard Llelwyl barking orders to the others.  “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover here, and I’d like to get on our way before sundown.  Sond and Marg, start looking through the bodies for loot.  Bush, check those chests for traps and get them unlocked.  I’ll look for hidden compartments and passages where he might have hidden the orb.”

“And what should we do?” Kiri offered.  The sound of her voice flowed through me, and I felt my arm starting to stitch itself back together.  “I feel bad watching you do all the hard work without contributing.”

“You stay right where you are,” Lell answered.  “Until we get you back where you belong you’re our guest, and I won’t have you risking yourself for our sakes, or for the sake of a few pieces of gold.”

“That’s fine for her,” Bushwack interjected, “but what about the little guy?  He’s not a noble, and said he used to be an adventurer.  He might know something about locks and traps himself, and due to his size he should be able to slip into places even I can’t.”

“That’s a good point.”  While Lell spoke I could already hear the other two rifling through the equipment of my fallen comrades.  “Kiri, do you mind if we use him to help us search?”

“Of course not!” the giant succubus replied.  “Anything to feel like I’m contributing even the slightest.”  My arm was fully healed now, though I wasn’t sure what good I could do with it.  When her arm shot forward my insides lurched, and her fingers opened to reveal the dim chamber that had served as the late wizard’s throne room.

Bush swooped in and placed a sandaled foot on either side of Kiri’s palm, and I gawked up at the relatively gigantic pixie.  I doubted I’d ever get used to being roughly ankle height to someone so small no matter how long I was afflicted with this size.  She seemed to have gotten over it, however, and leaned over before reaching down to me.  Her fingers wrapped around my body, covering everything from my arms down before launching back into the air.  In flight she clutched me close to her bosom, making sure I wouldn’t fall from her grip.

When we reached the first chest, she made a controlled landing on the edge of the lid and leaned over the side.  She held me in front of the lock, and I followed her instructions to grab on before she let go.  “I’ll check for traps while you get to work here,” she said, and walked off toward the edge.

I was able to slip inside the lock, but once there I had no idea what to do.  In general I knew how a lock worked, but Rolf had handled all our locks.  My main skill was hitting things until they stopped moving, and that would be difficult to do at my new size.  Looking at the iron column in front of me, I did not even know where to begin dealing with it.  If I couldn’t beat it into submission my options were limited.

“You’re all clear on traps, go ahead and throw it open!” Bush shouted.  I looked at the pillar of metal in front of me, unmoved since I had spotted it.  “Any time now, shrunken human!”  No matter how much she pushed me, I would not suddenly know how to pick a lock.  All I knew was that it involved things clicking into place, but how they got there, and what was supposed to click, was beyond me.

Bushwack’s black eyes burned into me from behind, and I turned back toward the keyhole.  “What’s the hold up?”  she demanded.  “Are you too weak to open it?”

“Not quite,” I replied sheepishly.  She continued staring at me impatiently, so I explained, “I have no idea what to do here.”

The pixie sighed and gave me an exasperated look.  “Are you telling me you’ve never picked a lock in your entire adventuring career?” she asked, and I shook my head.  “Never picked a lock, and you’re clearly not a mage, so what did you even do for your old group?”

“Well, I’m a warrior,” I replied.  “I can take a decent hit, and I’m pretty strong.”  Bushwack scoffed, clearly displeased by my answer.

“Neither of those things is true now!” she shouted.  I flinched from her voice while it echoed inside the lock.  “I’m pretty sure I could wreck you in a fight, and I’m six inches tall!”  She paused to take a deep breath and compose herself.  “Well, you’re already in there so you might as well do the lock.”

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” I offered.

“Exactly what I say.  See that thing right in front of you?  That’s a tumbler.  Lift it until you hear a click over your head.”  I squatted and worked my fingers into the groove, then with a great heft forced it into the air.  It mas made out of solid metal, so I dropped my stance and kept pushing it up until I finally heard the satisfying click.  Any higher or lower and it would be out of place again.  “Okay, now do that with the next one.”

If Bush was watching my progress as closely as she insinuated, she saw how much effort it had taken me to get just this one up.  “But if I move, this one’ll fall out of place!” I protested.

She fixed me with a dumbfounded stare.  Without another word she reached into the lock and grabbed me by the chest, then jerked me back.  When I was against her chest she opened her fingers, letting me drop to the stone floor.  Normally such a fall would break my legs, but instead my body was simply racked with the pain as though it had.  From the floor I watched Bush insert a series of metal rods into the lock, and in a few seconds she flew over it, pulling the lid along with her.

The pixie dropped into the chest, and I heard several large objects being shoved around and bumping against each other.  Once the ruckus died down she re-emerged and began flying to the chest on the other side of the throne.  “Hey, what about me?” I shouted after her, but she gave no answer.  Bush simply landed and set about her work of safely opening the chest, then took inventory of the contents.  Bringing me along did not even enter her mind.

Once they finished looting, the four of them met up in the center of the room.  They compared what they had found – I noticed Sondra had taken a liking for Isaac’s old staff – and Bush handed Llelwyl a tiny sheet of paper.  The elf peeked at it through a magnifying glass, then turned her attention to the chest I was standing in front of.  The quartet came toward me, their unison footsteps enough to make even the cobblestones shake.

The group got perilously close, and Lellwyl’s last step would bring her toes in contact with the chest’s metal bands.  Her worn, gray sole loomed in front of me like a wall, its surface pitted from months on the road.  When it was coming down I finally thought to move and dove to the side, just getting out of the way of her boot’s toes.  Lellwyl’s sole slammed down, rattling my bones from the impact and kicking up a cloud of dust.

She rummaged around inside the chest before pulling out a scroll and looking it over.  I craned my neck back to look up the elf’s colossal body to see if she had any idea she had nearly flattened me, but from here I could not even see her face.  With how calmly she was reading she did not appear to be aware of my near flattening, and the fact that I would have survived did not make me feel any better.

When she was done, Lellwyl rolled the sheet up again and stowed it in her case.  “Looks like he sold the orb some time ago, probably just before the little guy’s group got here,” she summarized.   “Good find, Bush.  Speaking of the little guy, how’d he do?”

“He was awful!” Bushwack answered from her perch on Lellwyl’s shoulder.  “Absolutely useless, more of a liability than anything.  He couldn’t handle a simple three tumbler lock because he could only pick up one of them at a time, and even my picks are longer than he is tall.  Apparently, he was a warrior with his last group, but I don’t think he’ll be fighting anyone now.  He’d be lucky to take a wasp in single combat.”

“That bad, huh?”  Lellwyl turned to Bushwack, a curtain of swaying white hair signifying her movement to me.  “What do you think we should do with him then?”

“Step two inches to your left and put him out of his misery.”  Lellwyl hardly needed to be convinced.  She picked up her foot and moved it so it was centered over me and set it down heel first.

“Hey, hold on!” Margret called out, and Lellwyl stopped her boot’s descent.  “Why don’t we get a say in what happens to him?”

“Yeah!” Sondra chimed in.  “We’re just as much members of this group as you two are!”

Lellwyl’s boot pulled back from above me and her chest heaved with a sigh.  “He can’t fight at his size and he’s not good at anything else,” she said.  “Why would we bother with him if he’s just going to be dead weight?”

“Because he’s a person,” Marget replied.  “A sentient being, no matter how small he is – temporarily, I might add, as far as we know.  And he hasn’t done anything to us, so how can you justify killing him?”

“And what sort of weight is he, anyway?” Sondra added, supporting the other human.  “He eats next to nothing, we won’t have to wait for him, and he’s perfectly capable of talking to us if we want advice.  If you really insist he do something useful, I bet we could even find something he can do just to make you feel better.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Lellwyl said with a groan.  “Kiri, it’s up to you to break the tie for us.  What should we do with the shrunken human here?”  Although she hadn’t said anything, it was clear what Lellwyl wanted to do.

“He said he was shrunken because of some sort of curse, right?” Kiri asked.  “Why not take him along until you find a way to cure him?  Who knows, you might even find out you like him after a while.”  I just don’t want them to see you still alive after she flattens you, Kirinhalut clarified.  That might raise too many questions for me to deal with.

“Doubt it,” Lellwyl muttered.    “Fine, he can come.  But one of you has to carry him!”  She turned and walked back toward the dungeon’s entrance, carrying the pixie perched on her shoulder.

Kirinhalut leapt at the opportunity, and her ivory-toned shoes were on either side of me before Margret and Sondra had even taken a step.  The succubus leaned forward and swiped at the ground, closing her long fingers around me.  She clenched her fist and stood, making my head swim until she settled with her hand at her bosom.  I swayed back and forth with her while she exaggerated her movements walking after the others, making my head swim in the darkness.

It seems we’re truly bound together, bug, Kirinhalut taunted.  And not just because I own your soul.  Anyway, I know it’s a couple hours back to the surface, for it’s time for the bug to go squish again.  She squeezed as hard as she could, and the pressure quickly overwhelmed me.  With a loud pop my body went flat and formed against the tip of her middle finger, and I felt her body hum with delight.