The doom of Kings

CHAPTER NINETEEN

As he charged back through the trees, Geth heard Ekhaas, Ashi, and Dagii beating their way into the hedge of thorns at the edge of the forest. The dust-blind trolls heard, too, and turned their ugly heads toward the sound, screaming their frustration.

At Geth’s heels, Midian said, “You’re insane.”

“I’m beginning to think that myself.” Geth reached inside himself and shifted once more, feeling the rush of invulnerability that was his heritage flood his body. He tightened his grip on Wrath and the sword pulsed in his hand. If nothing else, he thought, he was going to die like a hero.

Then they were on the trolls. Intent on their escaping prey, the monsters didn’t notice them until it was too late. Geth roared and hit the first troll in his path, trying to inflict the most damage he could, striking not to kill but to disable. Wrath sheared through its hip. The creature toppled over as its leg collapsed, but the wound was already closing. Geth didn’t stop. He moved on to the next troll. A swing took off its hand. The follow-through severed its knee from behind. The troll, still blind from Ekhaas’s spell, squealed and groped for the limbs as it went down. Geth kicked them out of its reach.

Midian, joined by Chetiin, was also striking for knees. The gnome’s pick shattered bone, and a twist of the weapon ruined the joint. The damage was temporary, but it brought trolls low while quick work with Chetiin’s curved dagger opened horrific wounds at critical points that would take longer to heal. In only moments, they had taken down four trolls. Geth turned to the last of the trolls-and was met with dark eyes clear of Ekhaas’s magical dust. A wide hand lashed out.

The troll’s talons gouged his shifting-toughened skin but didn’t break through. If they had, Geth might have been staring at his own guts as they spilled across the ground. The blow was still powerful, though. It threw Geth off his feet and slammed him hard into the trunk of a tree. Shadows swirled across Geth’s vision, but he blinked them back and pushed himself up again, Wrath ready to meet the troll’s charge.

It didn’t come. Hooting at the downed trolls as if in command, the creature turned and ran after Ekhaas and the others. The troll Geth had slashed across the hip rose and went with it, its lurching gait smoothing out with every stride. They disappeared into the brambles, heedless of the thorns that tore at their rubbery hides. The remaining trolls, free from the blinding magic, glared at their attackers and let loose a flurry of howls. Half-healed joints popped as they moved. Half-healed limbs clawed at them. Geth slapped aside a soft, raw hand with his gauntlet and whirled Wrath in a short arc that carved a gash in a troll’s torso, then jumped away before the monster could attack again.

Chetiin and Midian ran to his side. “Two between us and the others,” said Chetiin as the trolls tried to crawl toward them. “Three here.”

“We can take them down again,” said Geth.

Midian cursed. “Enough fighting, big man! Learn from a gnome!” He dug into a side pocket of his pack, pulled something out, and ordered, “Look away!”

Geth caught a glimpse of two tiny objects as Midian hurled them at the clustered trolls, then he quickly obeyed the gnome’s orders. And was glad he had as two intense flashes of light erupted with muffled bangs and new shrieks from the trolls. Blind again, they staggered back.

“Now run,” said Midian. “That way-as quiet as possible!”

He pointed not in the direction Ekhaas and the others had gone, but along the forest edge toward a tall and sturdy tree. Geth would have hesitated-the trolls were vulnerable again-but Chetiin grabbed him and pushed him toward the tree. They sprinted for it, Geth making the most noise of any of them, and even that the barest whisper. Midian ran like a rabbit and Chetiin like a shadow. The trolls were still howling, covering up any sound their quarry made. Midian flicked something else back along their trail. Geth heard a soggy splat and caught a whiff of a terrible, pungent odor. The trolls, caught in whatever Midian had thrown, moaned as if angry skunks had been thrust under their noses.

They reached the tree while the trolls were still reeling under the effects of the lights and the stink. Chetiin scrambled up it faster than Geth would have thought possible, seeming to run right up the trunk. Geth paused to give Midian a boost, then sheathed Wrath and pulled himself up. A shifter’s heavy nails weren’t sharp enough to be much use in a fight, but they dug into bark easily enough. In only moments, even with one hand encased in his gauntlet, he had reached the lowest branches.

“Higher!” urged Midian. The gnome was climbing with ease.

Geth growled and kept going until the leaves below all but concealed the forest floor, and moonlight came through the leaves above-moonlight and a view of the valley’s grassy slope, of the torches carried by the bugbears standing above, of the three figures that broke from the thorns and raced up the slope.

Ekhaas’s powerful voice echoed in the night. Without Wrath in his grasp, he couldn’t understand the Goblin words she spoke, but he understood the urgency in them. Even as she called to the bugbears, though, the two trolls that had gone after them burst out of the thorns and the bugbears reacted. Torches and pitch pots whirled. One of the largest bugbears shouted something that sounded like a challenge. Confronted, the trolls backed down and retreated into the thorns. The three figures that were Ashi, Ekhaas, and Dagii began to climb again. Geth felt a rush of elation-they’d found allies!

Then the large bugbear shouted again. Another bugbear threw something, and one of the figures dropped to the ground.

“Tiger’s blood!” Geth said. “What-?”

“Hush!” Chetiin perched on a branch just above him. The goblin pointed down through the masking leaves.

The trolls were prowling beneath the tree. Geth bit his tongue and held still.

It didn’t seem as if the monsters had seen them climb. They stalked around the tree, roaming through the forest and growling quietly at each other. Geth raised his head and looked back to the slope of the valley. The bugbears had closed in. The two remaining figures on the slope-Ashi and Dagii, he could tell from the stances-had put their backs together, but bugbears had the advantage of numbers. His friends went down beneath the crush of their big, hairy bodies. Geth heard Ashi shouting and cursing in the language of the clans of the Shadow Marches. When the knot of bugbears opened again, the massive goblins carried two struggling forms on their shoulders, along with a third that was limp and unresisting. Under moonlight and torchlight, the bugbears streamed out of the valley and back to the camp in the vale.

Geth bared his teeth in silent rage.

On the forest floor, the growls of the trolls changed and moved away, then were joined by new voices. The two trolls driven back by the bugbears had returned. They didn’t seem happy to learn that they’d been denied all of their prey. The growls grew soft. Geth, listening carefully, caught the sound of feet moving on the forest litter. The trolls had split up to search for them.

He turned to look up at Chetiin and, on another branch nearby, Midian. “What now?” he whispered.

“We could stay here until morning,” Chetiin said. “The trolls didn’t seem to be active during the day.”

“What about Ashi, Ekhaas, and Dagii? What are the bugbears going to do to them?”

Chetiin’s face was somber. “The tribes of the Marguul deal with prisoners in many different ways. They could keep or sell them as slaves. They could kill them as an offering to the Dark Six.” He nodded out to the valley. “They could give them back to the trolls. I think we know what the bugbears were sacrificing to now. They must give the trolls food, and in exchange the trolls stay in the valley.”

“That’s not normal behavior for trolls,” said Midian. “Trolls usually eat everything in sight.”

“I don’t think these trolls act normally at all. They show far too much discipline.” His big ears twitched. “In any case, if we want to do anything about the bugbears, we need to get past the trolls first. Or wait until the morning when they’re gone.”

“We can’t wait,” said Geth. “Midian, do you have anything else useful in your pack?”

“It depends on what you consider useful. I have a few more flash pellets, but no more stench bags. No more alchemist’s fire.”

“Grandfather Rat.” Geth shifted on the uncomfortable perch of the tree branch. “We can injure the trolls, but we can’t put them down permanently.”

“We can take some of the bugbears’ torches and pitch when we come back in,” Midian said, “but that doesn’t help us now.”

Geth looked at him sharply. “Wait. Come back in?”

“You’re coming back into the valley, aren’t you?” asked Midian. “The rod is still in here.”

“Past the trolls? That’s crazy.”

The words sounded hollow, though. In the pit of his stomach, he knew he’d come back. He’d promised Haruuc he would follow Wrath’s blade, and if the blade pointed into the valley…

“We’d need to avoid the trolls and maybe fight them on the way out,” he said, “then again on the way back in. We don’t even know what’s at the bottom of that staircase.”

“I do,” Chetiin said.

Geth looked him in astonishment.

“I went past the troll nest before I returned. There’s a rock wall at the bottom of the pit and some kind of shrine built against it.” The goblin returned Geth’s gaze and added slowly. “I think I have a way to stop the trolls.”

“Sage’s shadow!” Midian choked. “Why haven’t you used it already?”

Chetiin scowled. “It’s not something to be used lightly.” He held out his right arm, wrist turned up to show the sheathed dagger that was strapped there, the dagger that Geth had noticed he never used. “The shaarat’khesh call this Witness. It is a treasure of my clan, an honor to the one chosen to carry it. It is not drawn except to kill-and the soul of what it kills is trapped forever. Those slain by it are forever dead. No magic in the world can bring them back, not the prayers of priests or the wishes of wizards.”

He eased the dagger a little way out of its sheath. If Geth had thought the curved dagger the goblin wore on his left arm was a sinister piece of work, the dagger on his right brought an eerie prickle to his skin. It was a plain weapon in shape and color, dull metal forged into a tool with no other purpose than killing. The steel of the dagger, however, was etched with a single twisted rune-and set with a long blue-black crystal that resembled a slit eye peering out of the blade.

The crystal, Geth knew, was a Khyber dragonshard, valued by wizards and artificers for its affinity for magic of binding and trapping. The idea that such a shard would have been used in a weapon was somehow deeply troubling. He looked away.

Midian had turned from the dagger, too. “That’s a Keeper’s Fang. Why would you even have something like that?” he asked, his voice thick.

“When the shaarat’khesh kill, it’s a matter of pride to know that the task is complete beyond any doubt.” Chetiin pushed the blade back out of sight and lowered his arm. “Its power might stop a troll from healing-if it’s used to strike the killing blow.”

“Trapping the troll’s soul,” Midian said.

Chetiin frowned at him. “Do you think a troll would be less dead if we burned it to death? What about the troll you left by the steps? When we fled, it was still alive. It may never die or fully heal. Is that a kindness?”

Wolf and Tiger, thought Geth. He drew a breath and let it out before making a decision. “We’ll try to sneak past the trolls first, and use the Fang only as a last resort. Are you certain it will work, Chetiin?”

“No.”

“It’s something, at least.” He nodded toward the slope of the valley. “We’ll head over to the valley wall and try to make our way out from there. The thorns seem a little less thick at the edge. If we run into any trolls, Midian and I will try to bring them down-Chetiin, you use your dagger to deliver the killing blow. If Tiger dances, we may make it out of here.”

“How are we going to deal with the bugbears?” Chetiin asked.

“Let’s deal with the trolls first. If we can’t get out of the valley, bugbears won’t matter much.” Geth eased himself from tree branch to trunk and climbed down until he was close enough to the forest floor to jump. He left himself drop the rest of the way, landing with a quiet thump and sinking into a defensive crouch. He scanned the forest, then called up, “All cl-”

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as the troll rose up from where it had crouched beside a tree stump, its rough and warty skin blending with leaves and moss. Geth started to turn, to reach for his sword, but the troll was faster. Claws raked along the shoulder of his unarmored sword arm.

His shifting had faded while they hid in the tree. The troll’s claws tore into his flesh, and Geth felt hot blood drench his back. He bit down on a scream and forced himself around, abandoning the attempt to swing Wrath and instead bringing up his great gauntlet just in time to block another strike. Claws dragged along black steel, provoking a hiss of frustration from the troll. But there was bloodlust in its eyes and it raised both arms again. Geth jumped away to put his back against the tree. The troll lunged- and Midian dropped out of the shadows, his pick in hand. With his falling weight behind it, the head of the pick plunged into the troll’s back. The monster staggered backward, suddenly off balance, its arms spread wide and its chest exposed.

When Chetiin followed Midian out of the tree, he had an easy target. The blue-black crystal in the dagger called Witness flashed as the blade pierced the troll’s heart.

Geth couldn’t have said what he expected to happen. Something sinister-some dark release of energy or a sudden cold wind, maybe. A final wail or howl from the dying troll as the dagger drank up its soul. There was nothing. The troll jerked and swayed on its feet. Chetiin jumped clear, but Midian clung to the shaft of his pick, riding the body as it fell against a tree and slid to the ground.

Its dark eyes stared blindly into the night. It didn’t move again. Midian pulled his pick free. Blood oozed from the wound, but the rubbery flesh showed no signs of healing. Geth looked at Chetiin. The goblin held up Witness. Not a spot of blood clung to the dull metal or the blue-black dragonshard.

“Put it away,” said Midian with loathing in his voice.

The smell of the bugbear camp was strong from a distance. From inside, it was overwhelming, like being wrapped in meat and left in the sun.

Ashi thrashed and cursed from the moment the bugbears picked her up, but they had tied her wrists behind her back with leather thongs, and their grip on her was solid. At first, the big goblins had laughed at her and jostled her as if she were a doll. By the time they carried her past the pitch-smeared stakes of the barricade around the camp, though, their humor had faded. A bugbear with a ragged ear muttered something in accented Goblin about accidentally dropping her over the stakes if her struggles continued. It didn’t slow Ashi’s bucking at all, and the comment earned him a blow to the head from the bugbear with the trident. The bugbear with the ragged ear snarled and paid the blow forward with a slap at Ashi. She snapped at his hand.

She stopped struggling when they tossed her into one of the huts, and only because she hit the ground hard enough to send streaks of pain through her twisted shoulders. Her impact with the ground was followed by another hard blow as Dagii landed on top of her, the weight of his body driving the air out of her, the metal of his armor gouging her painfully. For a moment, all Ashi could do was try to draw breath. She heard a third thump, then the light of the camp’s big firepit was cut off as the bugbears dropped a big piece of leather across the doorway of the hut. It took her another moment to realize what the third thump had been.

“Ekhaas!” Ashi writhed beneath Dagii, trying to get out from under him. He moved slowly, rolling over like a drunkard. She kicked him. He grunted and gave her the room to get up on her knees and shuffle to where Ekhaas lay.

The duur’kala, her hands tied as well, had curled up like a child. Her breathing was shallow. The hut was not well constructed, and in the firelight that fell through the many gaps in its walls, Ashi could see a massive mark across the side of Ekhaas’s head. Her yellow skin was dimpled with the imprint of the hurled club that had brought her down. She’d have a big bruise when she woke up. If the bugbears gave her a chance to wake up.

Ashi sat back and cursed again, giving vent to her rage in the guttural blasphemies of Azhani.

“How is she?” asked Dagii.

Ashi twisted around to look at him. He’d struggled upright, and it looked like he’d have a few bruises across his face as well. “The blow was hard,” Ashi said. “It doesn’t look good, but it could be worse. If I could touch her, I might be able to tell more, but…” She twitched her bound hands.

Dagii, bound as she was, pushed himself over to her and examined Ekhaas carefully. “Her color is good and her ears are up,” he said. “If they were down, it would be bad. She’ll wake when she’s ready.”

“If she doesn’t, I’ll tear this camp apart with my teeth.”

Dagii sat back and stared at her. “You fight like a wolverine.”

“I come from a clan in the Shadow Marches,” she told him. “Raiding between clans was common. If you don’t fight, you’re too weak to live.”

His ears flicked in surprise. “You weren’t born to Deneith? But you act so much like one of them, I thought-”

The assumption stung Ashi. She acted like any member of Deneith? “You thought wrong,” she said, cutting him off. She wondered what Vounn would have said.

She looked around the hut. The light that filtered through the walls revealed bundles of stiff hides, maybe intended for trading with other bugbear tribes. There was nothing that could cut her bonds or be used as an effective weapon, even if she could get them loose. The bugbears had taken her sword and all of her knives. Dagii had been stripped of weapons, too, and Ekhaas as well.

“What are they likely to do with us?” she asked.

“Slavery. Sacrifice. They probably aren’t going to kill us outright. They would have done it already.”

“Ransom?”

“Not likely.” He clenched his jaw and looked her in the eye. “We have to assume we’re on our own.”

Ashi knew what he meant. Geth, Chetiin, and Midian hadn’t been captured, but that didn’t mean they were still alive or in any situation to come to their rescue. In her mind, she saw again the two trolls that had come crashing out of the thorns in the valley. Geth wouldn’t have let them pass without trying to stop them, but then again Ekhaas had caught five trolls in her spell. Five to three-bad odds for Geth and the others to hold back all their opponents.

Bad odds to survive.

She put steel in her heart and turned her attention to the cracks in the walls of the hut. They probably could have broken through the walls, but the shadows that moved frequently against them suggested the camp beyond was busy. They wouldn’t have gotten far, especially with Ekhaas still down. Ashi crawled to the wall and squatted at one of the wider gaps, peering out.

The camp was as busy as she’d guessed. The fire in the great pit had been built up high, and torches stuck into the ground burned everywhere that she could see. Bugbear children were busy scooping pine pitch out of crude troughs made from hollowed logs, transferring it into smaller pots. Older youths were preparing the leather slings by which the burning pots could be swung and hurled. Most of the adult bugbears were standing by the barricade, watching the darkness beyond. It looked like the tribe was afraid the trolls might come back in the night.

“How many trolls did we see, Dagii?” Ashi asked. “Ten?”

“Nine,” the hobgoblin said, speaking through his teeth. He was still crouched beside Ekhaas, his arms straining as if he were trying to snap the leather thongs that bound him-or maybe just stretch them enough to work a hand free. He relaxed for a moment and caught his breath. “Chetiin described a nest of them, but I don’t think there could be many more. Trolls are ravenous. Even if the bugbears are throwing meat to them, I don’t see how the valley could support many more.”

“There are at least twenty adult bugbears out there, and they’re armed with fire. Why do you think they leave the trolls in the valley? Wouldn’t it be easier to burn them out instead of trying to appease them?”

“There’s something strange about these trolls,” said Dagii. “They’re organized. They use tactics. I’ve never heard of trolls doing that before. It makes them more dangerous. Usually they just charge into battle and fight until their opponents are dead. You might as well ask why the trolls tolerate the bugbears living here.” He strained against the thongs again.

Ashi shifted to another crack in the wall and found herself with a view of the massive bugbear with the trident, presumably the chief of the tribe. He stood close to the fire with three other large bugbears. They were speaking emphatically, but with low voices as if they didn’t want other members of the tribe to hear. Every so often, one of them would gesture toward the hut from which she watched. Their fate, it seemed, was still being decided.

Then the chief turned and strode for the hut, two of the large bugbears following in his wake.

Ashi jerked away from the wall. “Dagii! The chief is coming!”

Dagii’s head snapped up and he rose awkwardly to his feet, wincing has he put weight on the ankle that had been injured. “Stand!” he said. “Don’t face him on your knees or he’ll think you’re submitting.”

Just like among the Bonetree clan. If you don’t fight, you’re too weak to live. Ashi rose and moved to stand beside Dagii just as the hide over the doorway was torn aside and the chief entered.

He was nearly as tall as a troll and big enough that the hut seemed small as soon as he was inside. The smell of pine pitch clung to the thick hair of his body. Big ears, not nearly as mobile as those of hobgoblins, turned like scoops in their direction. A black button-nose that was comically bearlike wrinkled as if the chief was sniffing them like a dog.

He had her sword thrust into his belt. “Khyberit gentis!” Ashi snarled. She might have hurled herself at him if Dagii hadn’t twisted to block her way.

The two bugbears who had entered with the chief stiffened and lifted their weapons, a big mace and a heavy sword. The chief growled at them. He planted the butt of his trident in the dusty earth floor of the tent and said in thunderous Goblin, “I am Makka! This is my territory.” His free hand pointed at Dagii. “You, low-lander. What is your tribe?”

Dagii stood against the roar of the bugbear’s voice like a wall standing against a gale. “I am Dagii of Mur Talaan.” He pointed at Ekhaas where she lay on the ground. “She is also Mur Talaan.”

A blunt lie. Ashi wondered if the bugbears of the Marguul tribes had some complaint against the Kech Volaar. Makka didn’t challenge Dagii, though. His black nose wrinkled again, and his mouth curved in a sneer. “This means nothing to me. I have never heard of the Mur Talaan.” Ashi saw Dagii bristle at this insult to his clan, but Makka’s thick finger shifted to point at her. “The human carries a dragonmark. What is her clan?”

Dagii’s ears rose slightly and he looked at Ashi sharply. “I don’t think he speaks your language,” he said in the human tongue before she could answer Makka in Goblin. “Don’t let him know you understand what he’s saying. It could be an advantage. Do you want me to tell him your House?”

Ashi watched Makka and the other two bugbears carefully for any sign of reaction to what Dagii had just said. The only thing she saw was impatience. They hadn’t understood him. “Yes,” she said. “Say whatever you think you need to.”

He nodded and turned back to Makka. “She belongs to the mighty clan Deneith,” he said, speaking Goblin once more, “whose armies are so vast that Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor sends his soldiers to fight for them.”

The bugbear who carried a mace opened his eyes wide and murmured something to Makka that was too soft for Ashi to hear, but the chief only growled at him. “I don’t care what Haruuc does-he bows to humans like a goblin!” he told Dagii. His sneer faded, though, and he looked speculatively at Ashi for moment, then pointed again, this time at Ekhaas. “We heard singing in the valley, the song of a duur’kala. Her?”

“No. She is only a scout. We had a duur’kala with us, but she and the others of our party remained in the valley to cover our escape while we sought help from you.”

Makka’s already tiny eyes narrowed even more. “How many others?”

“Six,” Dagii lied.

The bugbear with the mace hissed at this. “Nine of them altogether! Makka, the trolls will be angry for certain!”

“If the other six haven’t escaped the valley, the trolls will be well-fed, Guun.” Makka glared down at Dagii and Ashi. “What were you doing in the valley?”

“We were lost. We slipped past your camp during the day while the sentries dozed. Our scouts told us there was a way through the valley.”

Dagii spoke with utter conviction, but Makka wrinkled his nose. “You were lost,” he said. “Where were you trying to go?”

Ashi felt a chill seep along her back. Makka’s tone was dangerous. Dagii, however, continued to stand tall and confident. “At Lhesh Haruuc’s orders, we are seeking a new route through the Seawall Mountains to Zilargo.”

“And you thought there was a way through the valley?” Makka’s voice rose to a roar. He lunged and grabbed Dagii’s arm with his free hand. “Come!” he said, dragging Dagii out of the hut with no more difficulty than an adult pulling a child. Guun and the other bugbear looked confused for a moment, then prodded Ashi into motion after them.

Makka didn’t take Dagii far. The hut into which they had been thrown stood near one edge of the camp. The tribe stopped its labors to stare as Makka pulled Dagii up to the barricade and twisted him around so that he looked out over the valley. Ashi was pushed up alongside him. With the firepit behind her and the moons shining bright overhead, she found she could see vague shapes and silhouettes a surprising distance into the night. Makka thrust his trident toward the valley.

“There is where you went,” he said, then gave Dagii a half-turn that left him facing in the direction of the western trail down from the mountain. “There is where you could have gone. Is it hard to see? Does the way look more difficult?” He shook Dagii hard. “There is no exit from the valley! No one of any sense would think there was! Why did you go down there?”

“Treasure!” Dagii gasped, his teeth rattling. Ashi saw Guun’s ears turn up, but once again Makka only growled. The shaking stopped. Dagii pointed at her. “She hired us to locate a treasure lost by Deneith during the Last War.”

Ashi felt astonishment cross her face before she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be able to understand what was being said. Fortunately, Makka didn’t seem to notice. Teeth bared, he released Dagii and whirled on her. A massive paw of a fist cracked across her face, driving her to the ground and sending bright spots whirling before her eyes. Rage burst inside her as she stared up at the bugbear chief, her grandfather’s sword in his belt, and she would have leaped at him if Guun and the other bugbear hadn’t seized her shoulders and held her still.

“Treasure?” Makka said. “You entered the valley for treasure?” His angry face moved between her and Dagii. “You’ve stirred up the trolls, you fools! You may have doomed us all. My tribe has held this territory by keeping peace with the trolls, giving them meat to keep them quiet and driving them back when they get restless. And you went looking for treasure?” He grabbed Dagii again and sent him sprawling toward the hut. “Get them out of my sight! Tomorrow we’ll give them to the trolls. That may restore the peace.”

“Makka chib, wait,” said Guun. There was a hungry look in his beady eyes. “What about this treasure? If we could get it-”

“No one goes into the valley. It’s been a cursed place since the mountains were young. If there’s treasure lost in the valley, it will remain lost until they are dust!”

Dagii, however, seized on Guun’s curiosity and greed. “The Deneith are idiots,” he said to Makka. “They went into the valley during the Last War while they were looking for Marguul to fight for them. The treasure is their pay chest, full of gold and gems. The wealth of a king! We got close to it before the trolls drove us away.” He dropped his voice. “How many trolls do you believe are in the valley, chib? We only saw nine. With fire and pitch, your tribe would be a match for them. You could wipe them out for good and claim the treasure.”

The idea sank into Makka’s head and he paused, anger slipping away. Dagii had hit on something even more valuable to Makka, Ashi realized, than the treasure. Wiping out the trolls would eliminate a drain on the resources of the tribe’s territory-how much of the meat that hung on racks around the camp must have been there just to feed the trolls? The thought of a chest full of treasure probably didn’t hurt either.

After a long moment, Makka snorted. “Put them back in the hut. I must think about this.” He stomped away to the longhouse at the back of the camp.

Guun and the other bugbear pushed Ashi and Dagii inside the hut, then dropped the hide door as they went after Makka. Ashi nodded at Dagii once they were gone. “That was nicely done, turning Makka against the trolls.”

“It may not work,” Dagii said. “I think Makka may be too afraid of the valley. It may give us a chance, though.”

“It may give some of us a chance,” said a quiet voice from the ground.

Ashi looked down and stifled a cry of delight. Ekhaas’s amber eyes were open and looking up at them. She dropped down beside her. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know that I’ve joined the Mur Talaan and been given the position of scout.” She sat up slowly, her eyes squeezing shut as she moved.

“If they’d known you were a duur’kala, they would have watched you more closely or maybe just killed you right away,” said Dagii. “This way we have a secret they don’t know.”

Ekhaas nodded, the motion bringing another brief wince to her face. “There’s more than muscle and honor between your ears,” she said. “The problem with the story you’ve told to Makka is that he doesn’t need all of us to pull it off. You told him that we almost reached the treasure-that means he only needs one of us to find it again.”

“Maabet,” said Dagii. “I’m a soldier, not a duur’kala. Do you think you can come up with something?”

“We can start by telling them Ashi needs to be the one to open the chest. At least we’ve got time to think of something more.” She looked around, her ears flicking. “Geth and the others?”

Ashi took the job of telling her that there had been no sign of their friends. Again, there was no need to speak aloud the possibility that they were dead. She could see in Ekhaas’s eyes that she had considered the same thing already.

The hut grew quiet as Ekhaas thought and Ashi and Dagii rested. The bright light, moving shadows, and wary tension in the camp beyond the flimsy walls continued. There would be none of the tribe’s usual activities that night-the risk of a troll attack kept them all close to the camp and alert. Ashi found herself a spot on the piled hides in the hut that was neither too hard nor too smelly. In spite of the noise of the camp outside, she even managed to fall into a light doze.

She couldn’t have said exactly how long she slept, but it was Dagii’s voice that roused her to semi-waking. The hobgoblin warrior spoke softly in Goblin. “Thank you for healing my ankle, Ekhaas. I’ve never felt anything like your magic.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Ekhaas answered. “We couldn’t leave you.”

Dagii stirred, as if he were sitting up. “Thanks are necessary,” he said. “We got out of the valley because of you. Your songs distracted the trolls and kept us ahead of them. Without you, we wouldn’t have had a chance. Yapanozhii kita atcha.”

I owe a debt to your honor-the most formal way of offering thanks among goblins. Ashi opened her eyes and glanced at the two hobgoblins. Ekhaas was looking at Dagii, amber eyes meeting gray. After a moment, she gave a slow and graceful nod of acceptance.

It was another moment before Ashi realized that the camp had gone still and quiet as well. She sat up sharply. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

Dagii and Ekhaas looked up as if they’d forgotten she was even there. A faint flush spread across Ekhaas’s face, but Dagii was the first to understand what she’d really meant. He twisted around and put an eye to one of the gaps in the wall of the hut. “They’ve stopped,” he said. “Everyone’s staring at something.”

“The valley?” asked Ekhaas.

Ashi rolled off her bed of hides and found another gap to look through. The bugbears of the camp were staring into the night, just as Dagii had said, but they weren’t looking toward the valley. “No,” she said, “they’re looking west along the trail.” No, she realized, that wasn’t quite right either. “They’re looking into the forest.”

Beside the barricades, one bugbear guard conferred with another, then went running to the longhouse. Ashi suspected he was looking for Makka. She changed gaps, keeping him in sight. Sure enough, very shortly after the guard disappeared into the longhouse, Makka emerged with Guun at his side and strode to the barricade. His trident was in hand and his black nose wrinkled as he sniffed at the air. Guun did the same thing.

“Horses,” said Guun.

Makka’s head turned to catch the breeze in different directions. “Many horses,” he said. He turned to the nearest guard. “Get the young ones into shelter.”

The guard grunted and began rounding up the bugbear children and youths, herding them in the direction of the longhouse. At the same time, the adult bugbears of the tribe all began drifting to the western side of the camp, eyes-and noses-trained on the forest. Ashi watched, too, but she could see and smell nothing.

Just like all the bugbears, though, she flinched back when a deep voice rolled out of the night, shouting in Goblin, “Release our friends!”