FantasybyAbigailBorders

JonandSaulcomeshome

to find their village torched,and everyone they knowkidnapped by evil goblintroopers. Armed with littlemore than rotten eggs andhelp from their new friend

Anya, they take the goblinson and rescue their parents.Only, they somehow end uptrying to save one race fromslavery, and another fromcompleteannihilation.

Cyrion©2015byAbigailBorders

All rights reserved. No

part of this book may bereproduced or transmitted inany form or by any means,electronic or mechanical,including photocopying,recording, or by any

information storage andretrieval system, withoutpermission in writing fromthepublisher.

Thecharactersandeventsportrayed in this book arefictitious. Any similarity toreal persons, living or dead,orevents, is coincidental andnotintendedbytheauthor.

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eBookISBN:978-1-77127-720-4

FirsteBookEdition*June2015

ToGod,myfamily,andfriends.

AcknowledgementsGreat big thank yous to

everyone who has supportedme during this journey.Family, friends near and far,fellow writers, and theawesome team at MuseItUppublishing. Thank you,

everyone.

CYRION

ABIGAILBORDERS

MuseItYoung,divisionof

MuseItUpPublishingwww.museituppublishing.com

CHAPTERONETHECATALYST

Jon was walking into

trouble.Bigtrouble.Heknewit.It had been a hot, humid

summer. The birch trees ofthe surrounding forests

helped to provide someshade, but there was norespite from the humidity. Asingletrickleofsweatinchedits way down Jon’s foreheadand beaded into a glisteningdroplet right at the tip of hisnose.Heraisedandshookhishead, watching out of thecorner of his eye as the

droplet flew away, sparklingintheamberlight.Heandhisbest friend, Saul, trudgedunder thewestering sunwiththeir heads down, weightedbyguilt.Theycarriedapole,burdenedwith the carcass ofa wild goat, heading homefromtheirhuntingtrip.

A trip they hadn’t told

theirparentsabout.Jonworried his upper lip

as he studied Saul’s back.Tall, blond, and muscled,Saul already had more thanhis fair share of admirersamong the girls at theOutpost.

Maybewecantalkoneofthose girls into covering for

us.Jonhadasuddenvisualof

his mother’s stormy browsand his father’s disappointedface. He slowed his pacebefore stopping altogether,heartheavywiththeprospectofhisimpendingpunishment.He had a sinking feelingthere’dbenoreprieve.

“Saul, exactly how muchtrouble do you think we’regonnabein?”

Saultuggedhisendofthepole. “Can’t you walk andtalk? I think the grumpswillbelessmadatusifwemakeithomebeforesunset.”

They resumed theirtrudgingpace.

“Weweresupposedtobehome before sunset threedaysago.Wetoldthegrumpswe’d only be out for a fewhours. Do you really thinkcoming home a few minutesearlywillmake thatmuchofadifference?”

“So we’re a little late.”Saul paused a moment to

adjustthestrapholdingtheaxto his back before resuminghis pace. “What’s the bigdeal? We’re trying to makeupforitnow,aren’twe?Thatshould count for something.And besides, you’ll talk ourway out of it. You alwaysdo.”

“We meant well.” Jon

rehearsed their excuse aloudwhilefiddlingwiththenocksof his bow. “Wewent to thelake to maybe catch somefish. To add to the stew fordinner. But then there werethoseducks.Andyouthoughtthey’d taste better than plainfish in the stew. Whilestalking the ducks, I spotted

the goat tracks. And well,there’s obviously a lot moremeatonagoat thaneven thefattest duck. Imean, I didn’tknowgoatscouldrunsofast.Orforsolong.Didyou?”

Saulshookhishead.Jon craned his neck to

takeabetterlookatthegoat,and wondered if it would

make an adequate peaceoffering.Thegoat seemedsomuch bigger when he andSaul were chasing it. Jonsnuffed the air and frowned.Wait, that’s not how a goatsmells.That’s…

Jon stopped in his tracksagain. The frown on hisdusky, sweat and dirt-

streakedbrowdeepened.“Jon, come on! Home is

justoverthehill.You’renotabird.Thingswon’tmagicallybecomebetterifyoubroodonthem.”

“Do you smellsomething?” Jon tilted hishead,wrinkling his nose andscanning the tree-lined

horizon.“Smoke?”Saul laughed. “Only you.

Youneedabath.”“Like you don’t? You

stink as much as I do!” Jonpointed to a slender greyribbon dancing in a gold-tinged sky. “But really,doesn’tthatlooklikesmoke?Overthere?”

“TheOutpost!”They dropped the goat

and ran toward the slimtendrilsofsmoke.

****Twodaysprior…Logan sat, enjoying the

quiet. The pinewood interiorofhisinnandtavern,withits

crisp citrus aroma of woodpolish, glowed in the earlymorning light. The leaves ofthe twin dogwoods outsidemade a pleasing lace-likepatternofthesunlightshiningthrough his sparklingwindows. His regulars wereoutinthefields,andtheonlysoundswerethemusicofbird

songandchildrenlaughingasthey played in the Outpostsquarejustoutside.

Hewincedatthesoundofa heavy thump from thekitchen.

Ohyes.Thereisalsothat.The spicy scent of fresh

gingerwaftingfromtheopendoorway to the kitchen

mingled with sharp citrus,ticklinghisnose.

Logan listened to Artitake her frustrations out onthe pulverized shreds ofginger on her cutting board.“I’m going to skin the boyalive.”

THUMP.“Ifhedarestocomehome

with asmuch as one scratch,justone—”

THUMP.Hewincedagain.Perhaps

it is time for an intervention.Hetookonelast, lovinglookaround his comfortable innand tavern before headingbacktothekitchentoplacatehiswife.

“Arti, my love, we wanthimtocomehome.”

“The whole night,” Artisaid. “He didn’t come homethe whole night. He’sfourteen,nottwenty.Iswear,I’llskinhimalive.”

Herhandshook,knuckleswhite around the handle assheswungthecleaverdown.

She’sreallyscared.THUMP.Logan spared a glance at

the shredded leeks andmangled walleye fish besidehis wife’s cutting board. Jonloved baked walleye in leekand ginger sauce. Logandecidedtochangehistactics.

“Youstockedhispack?”

“Yes.” Arti wiped herheadwithherotherhand.“Aweek’s iron rations, as perWatcherregulations.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s hadsome Watcher training, andhehas supplies.Nowput thecleaverdownandletmeholdyou.”

Logan enveloped his

diminutive wife in his arms,pulling her close. She leanedagainsthim,butheknew thecleaver remained in herwhite-knuckled grip. Herheart beat fast against hischest.Loganbenthisheadtothe crown of Arti’s head,trying to draw some of herfearintohimself.

He inhaled the cleansingfragrance of fresh, crushedginger,mingledwiththemildonion scent of leeksperfuming her dark hair.Pulling away when herheartbeatslowedandsomeofthe tension flowedoutofherframe, Logan picked strayfragments of ginger and leek

fromhercurls,aruefulsmileon his rotund face. He wasabouttobringupthefactJonwas with Saul when herecalled the two of themtendedtogetinworsetroubletogetherthanwhentheywereapart.

Thecouplejumpedasthekitchendoorleadingfromthe

herbgardenslammedopen.Aburly older man with thethick arms of a blacksmithstood outside, his bushyeyebrowsbeetledinascowl.

Logantookasteptowardshim.“Geoff,what’s–?”

“Goblins!” Geoff said inhisbaritone.

Goblins?Buttheyhaven’t

been south of the border inoverathousandyears!

“Karin’s out there.”Geoff’s wide nostrils flared.“Shecan’tstallthemforlong,they’vegotthechildren!”

“Theboys–?”Artisaid.Bothmenglancedattheir

discreetly tattooed Watchermarks. “They’re fine. Come

quick.”Arti’s cleaver clattered to

the cutting board as the triotook off. Logan grabbed andtossedArtiastoutpiecefromthe woodpile as they dashedpast.Shecaughtthestickinasingle, graceful motion,without breaking her stride.Logan knewArtiwished she

equipped herself with hertwindaggersthismorning.

They turned the corner,and ran towards the square.Fourteen years of nothing,and now this? He shared aglance with his wife. ThankGod, the boys are gone. Asurgeofreliefmingledwithagrowingsenseofbloodlust.A

curiouscombination.They stopped short when

they neared the Outpostsquare.Darkfiguresgatheredin a ragged row before theOutpost well, grunting andsquealing with twisted glee.From behind the front linecame a muffled squeak asTalitha, one of the children,

triedtocryout,onlytobecutoffbyagnarledpawoverhermouth.

He felt an incongruous atouch of amusement atTalitha’s spirited attempt tokickhergoblincaptor’sknee.Fearless,thatchild.

Arti brushed against hisforearm,glancedat the small

overturned terracottaflowerpot, and steppedaway.Logan nodded his assent.Arti’sright.Theydidn’twantJon or Saul mixed up withthis.They’dhandleit.

After a short scuffle, sixgoblins shuffled through,each dragging a wriggling,frightened child. With one

hand, they held their chargesacross the chest. Their otherhand clutched long, serrateddaggers to the children’sthroats.

“Men on left.Women onright,”agoblintroopersaid.

Logan took a quickheadcount while he shuffledinto the line. Thirty goblins,

includingtheofficer.Keepinghisheaddown,heflickedhisgaze at the troopers. Lightlyarmed, leather armor. Theirofficer’s probably the taller,bigger built one. The onewithbetterarmor.Mightbeabitmoreproblematicthantheaverage trooper.Against fourWatchers.Hiseyesnarrowed.

Tough odds, but notimpossible. Although they’dlikelylosesomecivilians.

He risked an inquiringglance at Geoff. He gave abarely discernible shake.No.No civilian casualties.Not ifthey could help it. Artidropped her wooden stick tothe dust, breath hissing

between clenched teeth.Logan forced his ownbreathing to slow, to rein inthe bloodlust. A familiarcoldness washed through hismind as he regained control.Discipline learned throughyears of being a FieldWatcher.

“She’snothere,Captain,”

agoblintroopersaid.She? So theyweren’t the

realtarget.Thegoblincaptain jerked

hisheadatthem.Fourgoblintroopers approached, bearingiron shackles that clankedwith their every step. TheyputLogan,Geoffandtherestofthemeninchains.

“Some humes missing,sir.” The trooper sniffed theair. “Two immature males,aboutadayaway.Pursue?”

“No. Let them be bait,”thegoblincaptainsaid.“Burnthisplace.”

“Shall we pull thatdown?”Thetrooperindicatedthestone-builtsmithy.

The goblin captain shookhis head. “Takes too long.Everything else goes.” Hetook one last glance at theOutpost. “Put the immaturehumes on the wagon. Thenmoveout.”

Burn down his inn?Logansnorted.I’dliketoseethemtry.

****As he reached the top of

the small hill overlookingtheirhome,Jonheardnoneoftheusualnoiseandchaosthatcamewith a groupof peopleworking at cross-purposes toput out a fire. Quelling thesurge of fear in his belly, heraceddownthehill.

Jonskiddedtoastoponcehe reached the bottom.“Where is everybody?” Hisstomach gave anothersickeninglurch.

He studied the deserted,smoldering Outpost.Everything but the inn andsmithy was gone. While theroof of was smoking, the

tavern itself was still intact.Jon approached his father’sinn with slow, measuredpace.Theroofwasthatchjustlikeall theothercottages.Sowhyisitstillstanding?

“What should we donow? What happened here?Whyhaseverythingburned?”Saul wandered around the

Outpostsquare.Jon stood still and

watched the slender tendrilsof smoke from the inn roofdwindle, before dyingaltogether.

Itshouldn’tdothat.His eyes drifted down

from the roof and rested onan upside down, moss-

covered, terracotta flowerpotinfrontoftheinn.Jonhurriedtothepot,aknotoffearinhisheart. Breathing hard, hecrouched down and turned itover. Three smooth pebblesof rose-veined quartz,arranged at the corners of anequilateraltriangle.

Their special code. The

grumpswere fine, anddidn’twant him to pursue this. Butwhere were they? And whathappened?

“Jon!Comelookatthis.”Looking up, Jon spotted

Saulexaminingthegroundbythe well at the other side ofthedustysquare.

Just then, the sky turned

dark. The refreshingsplatteringofraindropsonhishot, sweaty head was purebliss. Jon rose from hishaunches and jogged acrossthe square. He wasthoroughly soaked withinmoments, as the lightsprinkling turned into adeluge.

Saul growled withfrustrationasJonreachedhisside.“Thisstupidrain!Jon,Iswear thereweresomeweirdtracks here. I’ve never seentrackslikethesebefore.”

Jon sank to the groundand sat back to back withSaul by the well, watchingthesummerdownpourdrown

the last of the smoking,ruined heaps. The rainwashedawaytheacridstenchofburnedwood,replacingtheodorwith the pleasing, cleanscent of the wilderness andgreenandgrowingthings.Hebreathed in the cooledsummerair,savoringit.Eventhe mud that soaked into his

leggings was wonderfullyrefreshing.

“Jon,youdon’t think thiscould be one of the grumps’littlepranks,doyou?”

“YoumeanlikewhenmyDad loweredus into thewelland then took away theladder?”

Saul tappedhischinwith

his forefinger. “Or when wewent on that camping tripafter our Namedaycelebrations.” He paused amoment and shook his head.“Butthegrumpsstayedatthetop of the well as we wereclimbing back up. And afterthe camping trip, we foundout that they had been

watching us the whole wayhome, even though wethoughttheyleft.”

Jon bit his upper lip. “Iknow what you mean. Thisdoesn’tfeellikeajoke.But,”his voice dropped to awhisper.“Ialsofeelsomeonewatchingus.Doyou?”

Saul nodded. “Okay, if

this is one of their littlepranks, what would theyexpectustodonext?”

“Maybe we should lookaround and see what we canfind?”

Jon got up and brushedtheworstofthemudfromhissopping clothes the best hecould,justincasethegrumps

really were watching. Thenhe and Saul split up andsearched theOutpost, callingoutthenamesoftheirfamily,friends,andneighbors.Theirswas a small settlement,comprised mainly of thesmithy, the inn, and a fewsimple cottages the othersettlersbuiltforshelter.They

returned to the well in shortorder.

“No signs of anything asfarasIcantell,”Jonsaid,hisvoice thoughtful andhis faceexpressionless. “Well, asidefrom the smoke earlier. Butthen, that rain washedeverythingaway.”

“I couldn’t find anything

either.” Saul paced back andforth, his eyes darting torandom points at the ruinedOutpost.“Mydad’ssmithyisneat,likeusual.”

“I checked the flowerpot.Seems like they want me tostay put. Did yours say thesamething?”

Saul stopped, studied his

face for a moment, andnodded.

“And the other people’scottages are all burned flat.”Browsfurrowed,Jonscannedthe ruined Outpost. “Thisdefinitely doesn’t seem likeone of the grumps littlejokes.”

“What happened here?”

Saul resumed pacing. “Weweren’tgonethatlong.”

Jon’s stomach growled.Saul’s stomach replied bygrowlinginsympathy.

“We need to get somefood.”Jonrubbedhisbelly.

“How could you think offoodatatimelikethis?”

“Let’ssee.”Jontickedthe

points off with his fingers.“We’re hungry, it’s gettingdark, the grumps want us tostay put and there’s nothingwecoulddofornow.Sowhynotgetsomethingtoeat?”

“Okay.Gotit.Well,”Saulsighed, “we still have ourrations.”

Tasteless peanuts,

crackers, and raisins. They’dbeenlivingonironrationsforthe past three days. Jonsurveyed theOutpost,hopingto find an alternative, anyalternative, to yet morepeanuts,crackers,andraisins.Their settlement was more atrading Outpost than afarming community, so most

peoplegrewmainlyherbsandaromatics in their gardenplots.Whileafewsettlersdidtry to grow some crops,they’ve mostly been burnedto ash. I was so hoping forgoatstew.Wait,thegoat–

“Well,thereisthefatgoatwe left back there.” Jongrunted as he stretched to

ease his aching muscles.“Come on, either we getmoving or we starve todeath.”

“‘Starve to death’? Oh,you’re always sooodramatic.” Saul rolled hiseyes. “Do you even knowhow to cut and cook themeat? Because I don’t. I

mean, that’s a whole goatbackthere.”

“Well, you know how tostart a fire, and I have mydagger.Howhardcanitbe?”Jon said with an optimisticsmile.

CHAPTERTWOACHANCEENCOUNTER

It was fully dark by the

time they trudged their wayback over the top of the hill.The rain stopped and Jonwas, once again, hot andsweaty. A half-moon peekedover the forest canopy in the

clear,star-strewnsky,bathingthe landscape in her pearlylight.Thenightwastooquiet,absent of the usual hoots ofthe owls, the song of thecicadas, or rustlings ofnocturnal animals in theflowering blackberry bushesliningthepath.

Jon was thinking about

the missing grumps, pityinghimself for his rumblingstomach and his muddiedleggings were chaffing whenhe heard a low, menacinggrowl underscore theunnaturalsilenceofthenight.

Apackofwolvesblockedtheir path. The moonlightglinted gold in their eyes as

theymovedtoflanktheboys.Jon unslung his bow andnockedanarrowwithsweatyhands,wonderinghowusefulhisweaponwouldbe insuchclosequarters.Saulwavedhisaxe toandfroasheassumedthefighter’sstance.Theboysstoodback to back along thepathsotheycouldwatcheach

other’s blind spots, as theirfatherstaughtthem.

“Jon, I think we’reseriouslyoutnumberedhere.Iseefiveofthem.”

“Really?” Jon detectedthe faintest note of fear inSaul’s voice. “I see seven.Youmissed those two in thebushes.”

Jon flicked his attentionover the shadowy forest,exhaustionfallingawaylikeadiscardedcloakas adrenalinesurged, refreshing his limbs.A familiar coldness washedover his mind, while thesoundofhisheartbeatechoedin his ears.Stay calm. Panicwillkillus.Hewasweighing

the relative benefits offighting or running awaywhen he caught a slightmovementinfromthecornerofhiseyes.

“Actually, there are nineof us,” a high, piping voicesaidfromthedarkness.“Youboth miscounted.” Thestranger snorted. “I thought

boysaresupposedtobegoodhunters.”

Saul jumped. “Who’reyou?”

“Since I’mwith the packofferociouswolves,I thinkIshould ask the questions.” Aslight, hooded figure, notaller thantheywere,steppedoutoftheshadowsandintoa

poolofmoonlight.Jon’seyesnarrowed as he calculatedtheirodds.Fightorflight?

“You’re outnumbered,”thestrangersaid.

Her voice sounds like agirl’s.

“Andmyfriendswillhurtyou ifyou try to fight.Don’tbother to run. You can’t

outrun a pack of wolves.Especially a pack of wolvesguided by me. Answer myquestion. Do you mean tohurtus?”

She’s got us surrounded,and shewants to know ifweplantohurther?

“Umm,” Saul said. “Wedon’t mean anyone any

harm.”Jon nodded down the

trail. “We left our kill whenwe spotted the smoke at theOutpost.”

“Youmean thegoatbackup the path? I’m sorry. Thepackalreadyatemostofit.”

“What?Wetooktwodaystotrackdownthatgoat,”Saul

said.“Well, it was just lying

there! It’s not like you putyournamesonit.”

“Thegoatcould’vefedusfor a week, at least,” Saulsaid.

“So, to be clear,” hertreble voice shook. “Youaren’t with the band of

goblinswhoburneddowntheOutpost?”

“No,” Jon said.We can’tagitate her. He took deepbreath to calm his racingheart. Her shoulders weretense and hunched close toherface;herfistsclenchedatherside.Whoisshe?Whatisshe? I should keep her

talking. Maybe we’ll learnsomething.

“Abandofgoblins?”Saulsmacked Jon’s arm with hishand.“Itoldyouthosetrackswereweird.”Heturnedtothecloakedfigure.“ButIthoughtthey were extinct. Ormythical. Or…what was itMaster Bobbits said about

goblinsinclass?”Jon ground his teeth at

Saul’s babble. He’s startingto panic. Even more reasonforme tokeepcool. Keepinghis eyes trained on thehooded figure, Jon returnedhis arrow to his quiver withslow deliberation, beforeputting a reassuring hand on

Saul’sarm.A snow-white wolf

emerged from the shadowsand padded boldly up to theboys. The moonlight turnedits luxuriouscoatintomoltensilver.BothheandSaulfrozeinplaceasitsniffedthemandthen returned to the side ofthecloakedfigure.Itliftedits

head, showing thecharacteristicpinkeyesofanalbino.

The stranger reacheddown to pet the wolf, herhand small with slender,ringless,nail-bittenfingers.

A child, then? But whatkind of kid hangs out withwolves?

One of the wolvesgrowled.Sauljumpedbackinalarm.Jon tightenedhisgrip.Saulneededtostaycalm.

“My friend says yousmell like you’re telling thetruth.” She cocked her head.“You really mean us noharm.” She unclenched herfists. The stiff set of her

shoulders relaxed. “I wasbeing rude,wasn’t I?Mothersaid I mustn’t be rude. I’msorry. My name is Anya,whatare—”

Saul adjusted his grip onhis axe. “Did you see whathappened to any of thevillagers? The Outpost wascompletelydeserted.”

“The goblins took themalongasprisoners.”

SaulshookJon’shandoffhisarm.“Whichwaydidtheygo? How long ago? Waseveryone all right? Didanyonegethurt?”SaulturnedtoJon.“Wehavetohurryandrescue thembefore their trailgetscold!”

“Wait, you guys lookdeadonyourfeet.Howaboutwe rest for the night? I canask my friends to hunt yousomedinner,andwecanstartfresh tomorrow.” Anyanodded to the pack. One ofthe wolves padded into thedarkness.

“But the trail—” Saul

said.Her tone grew sharp.

“How won-der-ful a trackerdo you think you’d be whenyou faint from exhaustion?”Anya waved her hand indismissal.“Anyway,afewofus followed the goblins afterthey left your Outpost. Theydon’tseemtobeinmuchofa

hurry, at least according totheHowl.Soweshouldhaveno problems catching up totheminadayortwo.”

She paused and tilted herhead Saul. “That is unlesssomebody insists on playingthe hero and falls sick orsomething, and slowseverybodydown.”Anyaspun

away from them both andwalked into the darkness.“Come on, then. We can’tstaygabbinghereallnight.”

The wolves herded thereluctant boys along, withAnya and the albino wolf inthe lead. She led them to ananimal trail hidden from themainpathbyasmallcopseof

trees.“TheHowl?”Jonsaid.“It’s how we talk when

wehavetosplitup.”“We?” Saul said. He

looked at the wolves, beforetighteninghisgriponhisaxe.

Anya’s small frame, onlyerratically limned inmoonlight, weaved, ducked,

andbobbedasshechargedonahead. Jon cussed the nightair bluewhenever hewalkedinto blackberry bushes,stumbled over variousexposedtreeroots,andfoundhis face whipped by errantbirch branches, teemingwithinsect life. Suppressedgiggles occasionally floated

back to his ears at eachutterance of a particularlycolorfuloath.

“You know you live insomereallyweirdbuildings?”Anya’ssmallframebobbed.

“Huh? Aaah, scat,” Jonsaid. His foot landed in yetanotherhole.

“Was there scat in that

hole too?” Anya asked,innocencepersonified.

Jon glowered in furioussilence, albeit uselessly sinceAnyahadn’tevenbotheredtoturn around. He imaginedshooting tiny little pinpricksin her direction. That neverworked before, but this time,given the strength of his

current resentment, it justmight.Girlsaresoannoying!Wait, I mustn’t lose mytemper. Jon smoothed hisbrows. He ran his fingersoverhisabusedshin,tomakesure he wasn’t scrapped toobadly, before continuing onhisway.

“That last building?

Wouldn’t have burneddown,”Anyasaid,hervagueformducking.

Havinglearnedhislesson,Jon bent his knees as fardown as they would go. Hestretchedhisarmsoutdirectlyin front of him for balance,and then waddled on in ahalf-squat. Might look a bit

silly, but he thought it wasmuch too dark for anyone tonotice anything anyway.Especially under all thesetrees.

A familiar giggle floatedfrominfrontofhim.

“Why not? Pthwah—”Saul said as he spat outleaves, twigs, and various

insects that a birch branchstuffedintohismouth.

Jon straightened from hiscrouch in the darkness,grinning.Hisgrinfadedwhenhe realizedAnya did that onpurpose. He knew she did.She could’ve really hurtthem, but all she didwas letthem walk into a few holes

and bushes, and let brancheshit their faces. Just becauseshe obviously thought it wasbefunny.Whatevershemightbe, Jon started to think shemight not be so dangerous.Irritating? Yes. Like all thegirls at the Outpost. Butdangerous?Maybenot.

“Well,” Anya said. “The

inn’s protected by magicwards against fire, evenmagical fire. Also againstfloodsandearthquakes.Quitea nifty bit of magic.Expensive. The combinationistrickytogetright.”

Jon increased his pace,making sure to stay out ofrange as he listened to Saul

spit what he guessed waslocal vegetation and insectlife out of his mouth.“What?”

“I know,” Anya said. “Ithought thewardswere a bitparanoid too.This isn’t floodor earthquake country.Surprised the inn wasn’tdragon-proofedthough.”

“Dragon-proofed?” Jonsaid,anoteofdisbeliefinhisvoice. Okay, first goblins,nowdragons?What havewegottenourselvesinto?

“Ah!Hereweare,”Anyasaid.

They reached a smallclearingattheendofthetrail.She walked with perfect

confidenceacrosstheclearingtothepileoffirewood,neatlyringed by stones, and kneltdowntostartafire.Theboysstopped at the very edge ofthe campsite.Awolf paddedtoward them from theopposite side, dropped a fewdead rabbits at their feet,went over to Anya, and laid

down next to her. Anyascratched the wolf’s head.The animal licked her handandthensettleddowntodozeinfrontofthecampfire.

“Sorry, boys. My friendscanhelpwiththehunting,butnot with the cleaning or theskinning.At least, not unlessyou don’t mind lupine drool

all over your dinner. Andthey definitely don’t cook.They lackopposable thumbs,amongother things.Buthey,I started the fire for you.”Anyasmiled.

Her eyeteeth glinted inthe firelight as she shrugged,spread her cloak over theground, and sat down. Anya

seemednoolderthanhewas.Her blank eyes shimmeredsilver by the reddish-goldenlightofthecampfire.

Anyawasblind.

CHAPTERTHREEPLAYINGWITHGYPSIES

INTHEWOODSaul grabbed Jon’s

shoulder and, turning boththeir backsonAnya, scootedas far away from the fire asthe wolf pack allowed.“Grandma,whatbigteethyou

have.”“So a werewolf, you

think?” Jon pulled his lowerlip with his fingers. “Makessense. She said ‘we’. Thosewolves seem awfully tamearound her, and far toocomfortable this close to afire. Definitely not normalwolf behavior.” He scanned

the clearing.She’s right.Theodds are stacked too highagainst us. We can’t fightthem all and hope to win.Shouldwerun?Hepulledhislipagain.

“Maybe a witch, withthoseeyes.Oravampire.”

“Who’s ever heard of ablind vampire?” Jon said,

snappedoutofhis reveriebySaul’slastcomment.

Saul shrugged. “Aren’tbats blind? Don’t vampiresturn into bats? And whatabout the dragon proofing?Also, did you notice hereyes?” He shook Jon’s arm.“Howcomesheknowswheretogoifsheisblind?Actually,

how come she sees evenbetterthanwedowhensheisblind? And why are you socalm?Andquiet?”

“Saul, you’re babbling.”Jonworriedhislipagain.No,too dark. And they can seebetter than we can. So nowwhat?

“You know,” Anya said,

her eyebrow arched, “asidefromtheeyesandteeth,Ialsohappen to not be deaf. Didyourmothersneverteachyouthat in polite society, it’sconsideredrudetostare?Andto gossip about yourhostess?”Sheshookherheadin seeming disbelief. “Now,how about you put down

those weapons and fix yourdinner? Then we can sit andtalk like civilized people. Ican even offer you somesalt.”Asmilelitherface.

Jon hesitated for amoment. What does shewant?Perhaps ifwe can gether to relax, she’ll talk. Hesighed, bent to pick up the

rabbits, and walked towardthecampfire.

“What’re you doing?”Saul said, running to catchup.

What can I safely sayaloud?

“Well, what’re ouroptions?”Jonsaid.“Mightbedifferent for you, but I’m

tired and hungry. And youheard her. We can’t fight oroutrunthem.”Jonunslunghispack and began rootingaround.“Sowemightaswelleat. Even if she does decideto kill us later, at least ourbellieswillbefull.”

“And you believe whatshe said? You think we can

trusther?”“Actually,” Jon said after

amoment’spause.“Yes.Yes,Ido.”

If she wanted to, she’dhavekilledusbynow.

“Trust me,” Jon saidlooking straight into Saul’sblue-grey eyes. Saul took adeepbreathandthennodded,

absolutetrustoneverylineofhisface.

It had been that waybetween them for as long asJoncouldremember.

“Wonderful. So gladyou’ve decided to stoptalkingaboutmeasifI’mnothere.”Therewasanodd, flatnoteinhervoice.

Jon’s face warmed withshame, and he caught Saulalso flushing withembarrassment. She wasright. Their parents hadtaught them better manners.He sat and took a smalldagger out of his pack. Thedagger and his bowwere hispride and joy. Jon received

them as presents from hisparents on his lastNameday.While he couldn’t think of aname for his bow, hechristened his blade TheAnnihilator. His fatherdubbeditTheSquirrelSlayer.After his howls of protest,they compromised by callingitTheSlayer.Hissmileatthe

fondmemoryfaded.Whatdidthe goblins want with Dad?Or with the rest of thevillagers,forthatmatter?

“You know,” Anya’svoice derailed his train ofthought, “your dagger stinksofmagic.”

“Huh?” Jon looked upfromtherabbits,confused.

Shewaspickingtwigsoutof her frizzy dark hair. Thealbinowolf looked up at herwith its pink eyes inadoration. Or at least, Jonthoughtso.“Youraxetoo,bythe way.” Anya paused andlookedattheminturn.“Yourpeople are not spell casters,arethey?OrWatchers?”

“No. What’re Watchers?My dad runs the tavern andtheinn.”

“And my dad is theblacksmith,” Saul said,studying his axe intently bythelightofthecampfire.

“Maybeyourmothers areWatchers?Orspellcasters?”

“My mum cooks for my

Dad’sinn,”Jonsaid.“Mymumknits.Whatare

Watchers?”“Even insummer?”Anya

said,anoteofdisbeliefinherpipingvoice.

“She likes to knit,” Saulsaid,finallysittingdownnexttoJonbythefire.“AndwhatareWatchers?”

“Huh.Anyway,aslongasyou keep those weaponsclose,they’lltellsomebodyifyou’vebeenhurt.”

The boys looked at themultitude of minor scratchesand bruises decorating theirarmsandlegs.

“Well, ifyou’re seriouslyhurt.”

“Tellwho?”Jonsaid.“HowshouldIknow?”“And what are

Watchers?” Saul said, amulishcastonhisface.

“If you don’t know,”Anya shrugged, “then youdon’t need to know.” Shereturnedtogroomingherhair.

Jon rolled his eyes,

sighed,andproceededtoskinandcleantherabbits.

“You’re cooking?” Saulsaid. “Have you ever cookedanythingbefore?”

“Nope. But the last timeyoudecidedtocook,theeggsexploded and we weregrounded for a month,” Jonsaid.“Soyes,Iamcooking.”

“Eggs exploding?”Anya’sblankeyeswidenedinbewilderment.“How?”

“Look,”Saulsaid.“LikeItriedtoexplaintothegrumps,it wasn’t entirely my fault. Iwas conducting anexperiment.”

Anya’s lips twitched intoan expectant smile.

“Grumps?”“Grown-ups,” Jon

answeredinunisonwithSaul.“We were supposed to

cook lunch forall the fathersintheOutpost.”HeturnedtoSaul. “You remember? Ourmums wanted no part of thelunch we fixed. I wonder ifthey had an inkling of how

things would turn out.” Heshook his head as heskewered the cleaned rabbitsbefore putting them on thefire.

Anya leaned back on herelbows, legs outstretched.“Well?” She canted her headto a side as the smile on herlips widened. “Don’t tease.

Tellthestory.Please?”Jon concentrated on the

roasting rabbits.Good, she’srelaxing.

“We were running late,”Saulsaid,“soIcameupwithan idea to cook and serve asmany eggs as possible in averyshorttime.”

Jonsmiled.“Hisideawas

to stick all two dozen eggs,shellsandall,intohisfather’sforge. We pulled them outwhen we thought they weredone.Then,beforeyouknowit… Ka-blooey! Molten egggoo and shell shrapneleverywhere.”

“It took us all week toscrubeverythingdown,”Saul

said. “And how we stank!Ooh…Thestenchlingeredfordays and days and days.Sleeping in the shedwas notfun.”

“So, now that dinner iscooking and you probablyknowmoreaboutusthanyoureally want to, let’s beproperly introduced. My

nameisJon,andthisisSaul.”He gave Anya an expectantlook.“Wearehumans.”

“Isupposethat’smycue.”Anyasatup.“IamAnya,andthese are my friends.” Shenodded at the wolveslounging in the clearing,basking in thewarmthof thecampfire. She hesitated for a

moment, chewing on herlowerlip.“Iamacyrion.”

“Huh?”Saulsaid,leaningforward, confusion on hisface, and his hands, nowhereclosetohisaxe.

Oh no! Saul’s letting hisguard down. Jon’s eyeswidenedinalarm.Thearomaof roasting meat filled the

night air. He poked at therabbits while racking hisbrain on how to get Saulattention without attractingAnya’s.

She heaved a sigh andlolled her head back. “Acyrion, a wai ren? Ashapeshifter? A forastero?Juststopmewhensomething

soundsfamiliar.”“Anya,” Saul said, “in

plain Common Tongue.Please.”JontriedtogiveSaula warning glance, which hefailedtonotice.

“Do you guys learnhistory inschool?Youdogotoschool,right?”Anyasaid.

“Yes, we go to school!

Welearnreadingandwritingandmath,”Saulsaid.

“Also hunting, brewing,fishing,andsmithing,butnotcooking,” Jon said whileturning the rabbits on theirspits.Hearchedhiseyebrowsand shot awarning glance athisfriend.

Saul finally noticed. He

pressed his lips together andthen stared at the ground, analmost imperceptible frownonhisface.

Anya nodded her head.“And not history. Okay, Iunderstand.”

“We just want to ask,”Saul said, still studying theground, “if you are likely to

perhaps…drink our bloodlatertonight?Orsnackonus,or turn us into frogs, even. Ithink I can speak for bothofus when I say that we…welike our current shape and…and species. I’mnot a fanofreptiles or amphibians orinsects,unlessIeatthem,notthatIeatinsects.ImeanIdid

eat some earlier. But youknow, not intentionally or…err… Anyway, you knowwhat? I’mabig fanofbeinghumanand—”

“Saul, you’re babblingagain.”

Anya pursed her lips.“Well, I can probably do thefirst two,but Icanonlyshift

myselfintoafrog.”Jonscootedbackinalarm

and tightened his grip on theSlayer.

“ButIwouldn’tdoanyofthose things to you. You’rebothfun.Idon’twanttohurteitherofyou.”

Jon relaxed. I was right.She might be irritating. But

notdangerous.“Being a cyrion, I can

takeontheshapesofalotofthings, but mostly animals. Iprefer wolves,” Anyascratched the silvery head ofthe albinowolf lying next toher.“Icanalso…reach…intotheir minds and makecertain…suggestions.”

He nodded his head inunderstanding. “Like hunting—but not eating—a fewrabbits.” The beginnings ofanideaemergedinhishead.

“Or gathering firewood,”addedSaul.

“Exactly.Therearelimitson what I can suggest, ofcourse. For instance, I can’t

suggest they’ve suddenlydeveloped the ability to fly,and should therefore flingthemselves off the nearesthighcliff.I’dneverdosuchathing. I’d never hurt myfriends.” She nuzzled herclosest lupine friend. “I canalso borrow their sense ofsmell or their sight, which

makesmyblindnessalmostanon-issue.”

“Backthere,onthetrail,”Jonsaid,“you letus tripandfall on purpose, didn’t you?Thatreallyhurt.”

“Don’t be such a baby.Youducked the lastbranch,”Anyasaid,apuckishsmileonher face. “Besides, I thought

youwerefunny.”“I wonder how many

shapeshifters are hiding inplainsight?”Saulsaid.

“I prefer the term cyrion,andactually,therearen’tverymanyof us.Your rabbits areburning.”

Jonpulledhissmolderingstick of half-burned rabbit

from the fire indismay.Lipstwitching into an involuntarysmile, he watched Saul biteinto the first, still-smokingmorselofmeat.

A split second before hedidtheverysamething.

Wait!Toolate.All thoughts fled from

Jon’smindaswhatfeltlikeaswarm of raging bees wasunleashed in his mouth.Blinking back tears of pain,he spat the morsel out anddug frantically into his packfor a water skin. Or raisins.Or peanuts. Even disgustingstalecrackers.

Anything to calm his

firestormofagony.Jonpulledoff thestopper

and upended the water skinover his face, his jaws wideopen.Hebarelynoticedabagbouncing off his head, of itsplitting open, and the briefshower of raisins thatfollowed.AllJoncaredaboutwas that the fire inside his

mouthhadbeenputout.He sat back on his

haunches, water skindepleted.

Saul was still tossing hispack, looking for his waterskin,inarticulatewithpain.

Anya sighed. “Well, atleast one part of you isclean.” She tossed Saul her

waterskin.Still hissing with pain,

Saul uncapped it beforeupendingthecanisterintohismouth.

“Better?”Both boys nodded. Saul

madesomeefforttobrushoffthe odd leaf and twig thatclung to his skewer. They

returnedtotheirdinner.“About reaching,” Jon

said. “Does this mean thatyoucanget insideourmindsandmakeusdo things?”Hiseyesnarrowedwithcuriosity.“Are you doing so rightnow?”

“No, of course not!You’re talking about mind

controlandthat’simmoral!”Jon pursed his lips and

stared into thecampfire forafew moments. “But youcould?”

“Yes.ButMother alwayssaid it ‘displays an appallinglackofrespectforourfellowliving beings’. I’m not surewhatshemeantexactly,butI

think mind control is rude.No.”Anyashookherhead.“Isuggest and advise. I nevercommandnorcoerce.That iswrong.”

“Well,” Jon said, hiseyebrow arching, “do youfeel the same way about,say…goblins?”

Anya leaned back and

tiltedherheadup to thestar-strewn sky. “No. I’ve tried.Didn’twork. The books I’vereadwarnedagainst trying toreach goblins. But I did itanyway.WhenIwastryingtoreachintoagoblin’smind…Ifelt like I was lost in anendless, fog-bound labyrinth.I almost couldn’t find my

waybackout.”“Well.”Jonsighed.“Then

there is nowayyou’redoingthat again. Back to squareone.”

“If you knew it wasdangerous,” Saul leanedforward, his voice rising,“why’dyoueven try it?Thatwas reckless even by my

standards!”“It was the only thing I

couldthinktodo!Theywereputting people in chains andtorching whole villages at atime! You think your littleOutpostwasthefirst?Notbyalongshot!”

Anya rose from theground in a single fluid

movement.“We’retrackingarelatively small band ofgoblins. They’re lightlyarmored and armed withnothing worse than daggersandclubs.”Shetickedoffthepointswithherfingersasshepaced.

“There are many other,bigger, better-armed, and

armored bands roaming theNorth.Infact,there’samuchlargerbandjustalittlefurtherup North, transporting aneven larger group of humanprisoners past theWolf-ridersettlements in the NorthernReaches forGodonlyknowswhatunholyreason!”

The albino wolf sat up

andwhined.“So, when you both are

done with your dinner, Isuggestweturninandgetanearly start tomorrow. Ifyou’reseriousabout rescuingyourfamily,wehavetodoitbefore they reach the maingroup,becauseoncetheydo,”she shook her head with

ominous gravity, “we’d haveno chance at all ofsucceeding.”

****Anya turned her head

toward the snap and crackleof their dying campfire asheat exploded pockets of saptrapped within the wood.Must remember to add more

before I turn in. In silence,shewatched the human boyssleep by the light of themoon.

The large blond one,named Saul, snored. He layspread-eagled on his back,withthecampblankettangledaround his legs. The dark-skinned smaller one called

Jonwasonhisside,onehandtucked under his cheek andtheotherrestingonthehiltofhis enchanted dagger. Anyadidn’t tire of watching thembecause their humanityremindedherofMother.

Well,maybenot in termsofmanners.Atleast,notSaul.AlthoughJonwasentirelytoo

controlled for her liking. Heneeded to loosenupmore, inheropinion.Maybeshecouldteachhimthat.Andinreturn,he can teach me aboutcontrollingmyself.

Shedrewherkneestoherchest and hunched hershoulders. Eyes squeezedshut, she summoned

memoriesofthelastplaceshecouldtrulycallhome.Tothecasual observer, homewas asmall limestone cave set onthesideof largehill,deep inthe forests, beyond the reachof most game trails. Thenarrow cave entrance washalf-hidden by masses oftrailing vines and curtains of

moss.Only she and her parents

knewof the falsewall at theback of the cave. Past thefalse wall and through atwisting rock-lined passagethat smelled of fertile earth,wastherealmainchamber.Afamiliar wave ofhomesickness washed

through her. Her father’senchanted mirrors made thenatural light skip and dancethroughout the cave, asthoughitwassomethingtrulyalive.Thekitchenanddiningroomwere to therightof theentrance passageway, whilethe sleeping and cleansingquarters were across, on the

other side of the centralchamber.

To the left was hermother’s marvelous study,with its numerous dustytomes,written in a babble oflanguages.Anyacouldalmosthear her mother’s chidingvoice when she balked atreading yet more books.

Knowledge is power you canuse. The more you read, themoreyouknow.Andthemoreyou know, the more you canuse.Keepreading,lovelyone.

When that inevitablyfailed, her mother wouldbribe her to keep reading for“just another hour” withsweet treats.From raspberry-

lacedsweetened icedcreams,to syrup-glazed sour cherrytarts. Her mother’s sure-firebribewascakemadewithherprecioushoardofcanesugar,covered by a paste made ofroasted almonds, finelyground and mixed withhoney, and studded withcandied quince. Anya’s eyes

burnedwithunshedtears.Hermother passed away over acentury ago. She stillmissedhereveryday.

Mother, look. I’ve madefriends. Human friends. Justlike you. You’ll like them. Idid exactly like you taughtme. Although I haven’t metanothercyrioninallmyyears

ofwandering.Wecyrionsarecursed with long lifespans.You were right about that.Especially if I truly am thelastofmykind.

I offered these humanboys hospitality and a safeplace to rest their heads.Their families must be nicealso. You always said

children reflect theirupbringing. I’m sure theirfamilies are proud of them.I’vekeptcontroland tried toconduct myself well. Have Imade you proud? I think Ihave.

Anya’s brows furrowedand her eyes snapped open.The boys’ families! So many

human settlements burned tocharred husks by the goblinsand then left populated bynaught but ghosts. Thegoblins’ targets were alwaysisolated, always with no oneleft behind to report to thekings or barons. Or whoeveris currently in charge. EvennosyWatchers.

She bit her upper lip.What are the goblins up to?Whatmadethemfinallyleavetheirstronghold in thefrozennorth?Andwhydotheyneedsomanycaptives?

Her head jerked up—someone was watching. Shereached intomembers of herpackonguardduty,inquiring

ifanyonewasaround.No,nooneis.The wolves smelled

nothing but the usual forestfauna.Well,theyalsoscentedthegoblins.Notunusual.Thewholeplacestinksofgoblin.

The albino wolf besideherwoofed. Anya guided itslupine eyes upward and

realized how low the moonwas in thenight sky.Gettinglate. It’s only a few hoursuntil dawn and I need to getsomerest.Tomorrowisgoingto be a very busy day. Shelaid down on the ground,cuddled the wolf, anddropped off into a deep,restfulsleep.

CHAPTERFOURTHECHASE.APLAN

EMERGESThe wolves’ howls

unnervedJonat first.Thenhelearned to tune out the lupineversionofjungledrumsasthedayworeon.Theyspentmostof the followingday trying to

keep up with Anya and herpack. Ten paces of briskwalking,followedbytenpacesat a jog, then ten paces at adead run, over and over untilAnyacalledforahalt.Duringtheir breaks, they grabbed afew bites of cold leftoverrabbit and a few swallows ofwater before setting off yet

again. The pack loped aheadand alongside them, teethflashingastheirtongueslolled.

Jon had the distinct sensetheywerelaughingathim.

Despiteherpetitesizeanddelicate frame,Anya not onlykept upwith them, she foundthe breath to tell them whatshe knew about goblins.

Goblins had a good sense ofsmell,evenbetterthanwolves.Theyalsospoke theCommonTongue, in addition to beingdeceptivelystrongandfast.

Anya called for a haltbefore moonrise. Joncollapsed, panting on thegrass. The expression onSaul’sred,sweat-streakedface

mirroredhisowngratitudefortherespite.

“We can rest here for abit,”Anyasaidinatersevoice.“I need to…do something.Whatever happens, pleasedon’t panic. Actually, justdon’tmakeasound.”

Her lupine shadow, thealbino wolf Jon privately

called Minari, settled downnexttoher.Anyasankontothedry, brittle summer grass;cross-legged, and her backramrodstraight.Sheclosedhereyesandslowedherbreathinguntil it seemed to stopcompletely.

SaultiltedhisheadatJon,a puzzled frown on his face.

Jon shrugged. He licked hisforefinger, silently apologizedto Anya for the state of hisbreath,andplaceditjustunderher nose for a few minutes.Faint, warm exhalationscooled his damp finger. HenoddedatSaul.Stillbreathing.Saul sagged with obviousrelief.Theboysquietlymoved

to either side of her, bracingthemselvestocatchherincaseshe fell. Jon’s arms and legswerebeginningtocrampwhenAnyafinallyrelaxedandcameoutofhertrance.

She jerked her head back,and Minari studied both ofthem in turn. “What do youthink you’re doing?” She

flicked her hands withimpatience as Jon started toexplain. “Shush and followus.”

With Minari in the lead,theywenttoaholebythesideof a small mound, madeinvisible by the surroundingvast expanse of blackberrybushes. They dropped to all

fours and crawled through acramped, earth-lined tunnel,which opened into a smallcavern. The rugged, erodednatural opening in its roofallowed enough moonlight tosee.

The cavern’s irregularwallsresembledthesidesofahalf-melted candle. The scent

of molding leaves and earthsprinklingtheground,mingledwith the faint fragrance ofblackberry blossoms, grewstrongerasthetriosatdownina circle underneath theopening,facingeachother,onthe cool, knobby limestonecavernfloor.Minarilaiddownnext to her. A pair of amber

lupine eyes stayed trained onbothSaulandhe.

“No fire tonight. We’restillabouthalfadayaway,butI don’t want to risk themscentingthesmoke.”

Saul huffed, his sweat-streaked face still flushed abright cherry red. “I thoughtwe’d have caught up to them

bynow.”“Sorry, I forgot how slow

humansare.Youdidyourbest.My fault. I forgot neither ofyoucanshift.”

Jon’s stomach had beenrumbling for the past hour.“What’rewegoingtodoaboutdinner?”

Anya reached into her

pack and tossed the two ofthem a green apple each. Jonsighed with resignation andcrunched intohis.AtleastI’mnot eating crackers andraisins.

“There are about thirty—well, twenty-five goblinsnow,”Anya said, a feral glintinher eyes. “Thechildrenare

locked in what seems like acovered, barred wagon. Themen are chained. But thewomenaren’t.”

“How’d you know?” Jonsaid. “Did this have anythingto do with…what happened?Justthen?”

“I…persuaded some batsto lend me their ears. Then I

persuadedsomeadderstolendme their fangs and venomsacs. So what was thirty, isnow twenty-five.” Her voicegrew much colder, morevicious.“Theyneverevensawme coming. At night, thosegoblinsarealmostasblindasIam.”

Jon started to smile, then

stopped, his lips frozen in agrimacethatquicklyfaded.Heglanced at Saul, and spottedguiltwrittenalloverhisface.

“Ohstop. It’sall right if Imakethejoke.”

“Stilldoesn’tseemrighttome,”Jonsaid.

“Meneither,”Saulsaid.“Okay, no more blind

jokes. So,” Anya said beforemunching on her own apple,“howshouldwedothis?”

The boys exchanged alook.

“You don’t have to dothis,”Jonsaid.“Weappreciateyourhelp,but—”

“Oh,stopit.IknowIdon’thaveto,butIwantto.Mother

used to say I should helppeople.SoIam.”

Saul shookhis head. “Butyou’ve already helped us. Alot. And this could getdangerous.”

“Yeah, I mean, we’re noteven your people. It’d bebetterifyoustayhere.”

There was a pause.Anya

looked down at the ground,tangledlocksofhairhidingherface.Backslumped, shedrewher knees up to her scrawnychest and held her arms stiffon both sides of her slightframe. Her right foot movedbackandforthrhythmically,asif tryingtodigahole into thelimestonefloor.

“I know you don’t wantme around,” she said in asmall voice. “I thought wecould be friends because Ithought we had a lot of fun.Well,Ihadalotoffun.”

Minariwhined.Jonthoughtheheardasoft

sniffle. He shook his head.“That’s notwhatwemeant at

all.”Anya’s footmoveda little

faster,hercalfmusclesvisiblytensing. “But I…But youreallydoneedmyhelp.Idon’twantyoutogethurt.”

“That’s our point, Anya,”Saulsaid.“Wedon’twantyoutogethurt.”

“You’re our friend,” Jon

said.Saulbobbedhishead.“We don’t want you in

danger,” Jon said. “If youcome along, you will be.That’s why I said you shouldstayhere.”Heshookhishead.“Whichpartof thisdon’tyouget?”

“Well, I’m coming and

you can’t stop me. So webetter come up with a goodplan.” She drew her sleeveagainst her face, and thenglared at the boys with red-rimmed, silvered eyes, as ifdaringthemtoobjectfurther.

Minari growled a lowwarning.

Jonhuffedinexasperation.

“It’s pointless arguing withyou.”

“Exactly.” Anya loweredher legs, returning to heroriginal cross-legged posture,anunmistakableexpressionofstubborndeterminationonherface.“Sostopwastingtime.”

The trio fell silent as theyalltriedtothinkofsomething.

Minari rested his head on hispaws,andcontinuedwatchingthem.

Saul’s head snapped up,his eyes sparkling inexcitement.“Ourmumsaren’teven chained or anything. Socan’tweunchainthemen,freethe children, and then run forit?”

Jon thought for a fewminutes, shook his head, andturned toAnya. “Something’snot right.Why’re the womenfree?”

“Maybe because thechildren are very heavilyguarded?”

“That’s the key. Thegrumps wouldn’t want to try

anythingifthere’sachancethechildrenwouldgethurt.”

Anya shook her tangleddarkcurlsawayfromherface.“Itwon’t be hard to convincethe oxen to bolt. They don’tlikethegoblinsverymuch.Oratall,really.”Shewrinkledhernose. “Something about howtheysmell.”

“Okay.” Saul nodded atAnya.“Youconvincetheoxento bolt with the wagonsomewhere safe. Meanwhile,JonandIfreethemen,beforeweallrunforit!”

“A few problems withthat.” Jon’s brows furrowed.“How do we stop them fromchasingandrecapturingus?Or

what happens if, instead ofchasing us, they report to themaincamp?”

Saul’s eyes widened withrealization.“Theymightreturnwithanevenbiggerforce.”

Jon nodded. “Also, weneed time. Time to stockpilefood, to build some kind ofwall, orsomething to defend

theOutpost.Andwealsoneedtosendforhelp.”Therewasanodd,flatnoteinhisvoice.“Wecan’t let even one of themescapeandreporttowhoever’sinchargeofthisthing.”

Saul’s turned to Jon.“What’reyousaying?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Anyabent her head at Saul,

frowning. “They all have todie.”

“How’re we going to dothat?” Saul’s face shone withabsolutefaith.

“I may have an idea ortwo,” Jon said with histrademarkoptimism.

CHAPTERFIVELAYINGTHE

GROUNDWORKLogan shuffled his feet,

thechainsclankingalong theforest floor.Fakinga fall, hecollapsed into the leavesliningtheground.Ashetookhis time getting back on his

feet, he contemplated thelikelihood he was losing hismind. While Jon would bedistraught, Arti wouldprobablydowhat shealwaysdid—somehowfindaway toadaptandthrive.

This morning, beforedawnandwhenthelightwastrickiest, he thought he saw

analbinowolfpadtowardthecamp in perfect silence fromthe shadows of the forest, ahillmynahridingonitshead.

A mynah with a set ofblank,silveredeyes.

The sight of the birdbroughthimback tohisdaysat the Watcher Academy, inthe tropical Achillean

Archipelago. Mynahs aretropical birds. These forestsare anything but tropical.And I was still half-asleep.Also, what self-respectingwolf would give a bird,especially one as puny,annoying, and famouslyincontinent as a mynah, aride on its head? I must’ve

beendreaming.Lost in thought, Logan

pausedforamoment,earninghimself a poke in the backfrom one of the goblinguards.Hebowedhisheadinapparent submission andcontinuedwalking.

Unless it’s a…cyrion?No,can’tbe….

That morning, beforedawn,abirdtoldhimtoslowthegoblinsdown.

In his dream—a dream,nothing but a dream—thebird hopped off the wolf’shead onto his shoulders, andspokeinJon’svoice.

“Slow them down, Dad.We’re coming, but we need

moretime.Hopethishelps.”The wolf dropped the

small dagger from its jawsintoLogan’s lap.Themynahhopped back onto the wolf’shead, and rode off into theforest, slipping in silencethrough the trees, beforedisappearingaltogether.

If not for the

inconveniently real dagger,Loganwould have dismissedit as a dream without anyhesitation—just one of themany results of a highlystressful last few days.However, the dagger wasreal. Geoff forged andenchanted theSquirrelSlayerfor Jon. He’d recognize the

weapon anywhere. Loganglanced at his Watcher’smark,atattooedcompassroseon the webbed area betweenhis middle and ring finger.The tattoo would changecolor if Jon was seriouslyhurt, but worked only if JonwascloseenoughtowieldtheSlayer.

I told Jon to keep theSquirrelSlayerclose.Andwetoldhimtostayput.

Logan’sprideinhisson’scourage battled with hisfrustration at Jon’sdisobedience. But if thedaggerwas real, sowere thetalking bird and all the rest.Which meant he wasn’t

following the orders of acompletelyimaginarybird.

I’m following the adviceof a real bird…which spokein Jon’s voice…and whichonlyIcanseeorhear.

No matter which way herearranged the words in hishead, Logan kept coming tothe conclusion that he’d lost

hismarbles.There is one last

alternative… The impossiblealternative.

Acyrion.But I thought we’d killed

everylastoneofthem.Fourteen years ago, he

andGeoffoversawthesquadsofWatcherswhosearchedthe

forests surrounding theproposed site. Logan madecertain they eliminatedanythingunusuallydangerousto the babies. There was noway they could’ve missed acyrion. They requested thisposting precisely becausethey needed a safe place toraise the children. Like Arti

said, theOutpostwas locatedwhere two goat tracksintersectedatthebackendofnowhere. He had to admitneither he nor Geoffconducted similar searchesrecently. The job becameharder as both boys grewolder. Over the years, thechildren had gotten into all

kinds of trouble. He spentmore time than he everanticipated keeping up withthem.

Logan pretended tostumble, misjudged thedistance and his knee landedon an exposed tree root. Astartled small, furry creaturedartedintothebushes.Logan

hissedwithpain.No. That can’t be a

cyrion. Between the four ofus, there was no way wecould’vemissedacreatureasdangerous as that. So I’mbacktothefirsttwooptions.

“Areyouallright?”Arti’sdelicatebrows furrowedwithconcern.

Should I tell her? Wouldshe think I’m crazy? Hedecidedtokeepquiet.Idon’twant to worry her. Badenough I might actually becrazy.

Logan nodded, and gaveherareassuringsmile.

As he got back on hisfeet, Logan resumed

contemplating the likelihoodhewaslosinghismind.

****“Thank you,” Jon said as

Anya emerged from behindsome bushes, back in herhuman form. She noddedwith an absent smile. “Andthanks for the eggs, too.”Hepatted his pack, filled with

assorted rotten birds’ eggs,wellwrappedindriedleaves.

“Why did you wantthem?”Saulasked.

“Remember how smellythe exploded eggs were?Well, I bet these’d smellmuchworse.HowwouldyoureactifIwastosmashoneoftheseonyou?”

Saul’s face lit up withequalpartsunderstandingandmischievousdelight.

Anya clapped her hands.“And goblins have a bettersense of smell than evenwolves. So if one of thoselands right on their faces,theymightgethurt.”Hergrinwidened.“Reallyhurt.”

“That would be great,”Jon said. “I’d be happy ifthey’restunnedforamoment,long enough for us to…domoreseriousdamage.”Hebithislipandlookedaway.

Saul studied Jon’s face, afrown on his own. “Jon, doyou think we can do this? Imean,reallydothis?”

Jon kept silent, focusingon the forest floor. A loneblack ant was bravelyattempting to lift a crumb, aremnant of their meal, manytimes larger than itself.Feeling a strange sense ofkinship to that ant, Jonnudged the crumb onto theant’s head and thorax. The

ant made its wobbly wayback to the scraggly line ofother black ants that, hepresumed, were returning totheir nest somewhere else intheforest.

There’smygooddeedfortheday. Ionlywish someoneelse would give us a similarnudge.

“Jon?” Saul said withgrowingconcern.

Jon looked up to Saul,and noticed anuncharacteristic gravity andconcern in his friend’s blue-greyeyes.

Saul shrugged. “I mean,we’ve hunted rabbits andducks, sure. But the biggest

thing we’ve ever killed wasthat goat. And thesegoblins…” he paused, as ifsearchingfortherightwords.“Theywalkon two legs, likewe do. They speak theCommonTongue,likewedo.They probably have friendsandfamily,likewedo.”

“No, no parents,” Anya

said. “The books I read inMother’s library said thatgoblins are ‘neither born norhatched’”.

“Well, some kind offamily, or friends orsomething. Anyway, mypoint is…”Saul threwuphisarms in frustration, unable tofindthewords.

Jon bent his head again,this time studying his boots.His father bought the animalskin from a hunter passingthrough the Outpost. Hetaught Jon how to scrapeclean and cure the skin, toturn it into leather.Foronce,his mother did not complainabout the unavoidable stink

ofthetanningprocess.Loganthen taught Jon to turn thenewly cured leather into theboots he now wore. Itoccurred to Jon his fatherknew a surprising number ofthings for someone whoseprofessedoccupationwas thetavernkeeperofasmallpub,attached to an even smaller

inn,locatedatthebackendofnowhere.

Hemissedhisgrumps.“I can’t think of another

way,” came Jon’s mumbledreply. “I’ve thought andthought, and I don’t…I justcan’tseehow…”

Jon lifted his eyes,grasped his friends’

shoulders, and looked intotheir eyes. “It has to be us,don’t you understand? Thereis no one else. We have notimetoaskforhelp.Andwhocouldweask,wheneveryoneweknoware theverypeoplewe need to help? Whateverthe consequences, howeverwefeelwhenthetimecomes,

we’ll just have to deal withlater.Becauseifwedon’tactnow, there will be no later.Doyouunderstand?”

Jon pulled away fromthemandhunkereddown,hisback hunched. He folded hisarms around his knees andhunghisheadlow,asthoughtrying to shield himself from

the inevitable. “There neverwasaquestionofwhetherwecould do this. The questionwas always when. Becausewehave no choice.Wehavetotry.”

From the corner of hiseye, Jon saw his friendsexchangeworriedglances.

Anya bent and rested her

hand on Jon’s tenseshoulders. “Why don’t wejust rest for now? I thinkwe’re all over-tired, and it’sgoingtobealongnight,”shesaid,hervoicelikeasoothingbalm. She laid down andwrapped her cloak moresecurely around herself toprepareforanap.

“Should we set a watch,just in case?” Saul asked ashe also settled into a morecomfortableposition.

“Noneed.Myfriendswillkeepwatch.”

Despite the silence thatfollowed, not one of themwasabletosleep.

CHAPTERSIXTHECOUNTDOWN

BEGINSIn the hour before dawn,

Saul finally grasped that hewas truly on his own. Anyawas counting down in theforest, while Jonwas gettinginto position. He shifted his

weight from one foot to theother, his arms alternatelyflexing and relaxing, asthough he was physicallyfighting the hollow sicknessatthepitofhisstomach.

I can’t be scared. I can’tfail.I’llshowDadIcandoaman’s job. I’m not only astupid little kid. No, I’m not

scared at all. Not even ateeny, tiny, little bit. I’m notgoingtofail.

The pair of wolves Anyaleftwithhimmadereassuringrumbles.Theycouldsensehisfraying nerves. He tried topull himself together,loweringhisaxeandrelaxinghis arms. No sense tiring

myselfoutfornoreason.Soon.Verysoonnow.From a distance came a

loud ghruugh, followed byscreams and the thunderoussounds of crashing as overthree thousand pounds ofbovine muscle stampeded,snapping the trunks ofunfortunate saplings, and

trampling the undergrowthintotheground.Saulrealizedhe could see almost nothing.Would he have time to jumpoutofthewayorwouldoxenhooves snap his spine likejustanothersapling?

Why didn’t Jon think ofthis?

He found one of the

wolves and positionedhimselfbehindit.Well,iftheoxen were headed this way,the wolf would surely knowandwouldrunoutoftheway.So there’d be time to jumpout of their path. Makessense. Also, there is no timetothinkofanotherplan.

The sounds of snapping

saplings came closer andcloser,andthenapairofoxencrashed through theblackberry bushes. Saul lethis instincts take over andleapt to the side. Before heknew it, he found himselfhalfway up the nearest tree.Thewolveslookedupathiminwhathe’d swearwasutter

bewilderment. Hoping the darkness

would cover hisembarrassment, Saulscrambled down the treetrunk, ripping part of hisleggings in the process, andraced towards the barredwagon. Oddly enough, theoxen,nostrilsstillflaringand

their eyes wild, stood quiet.Saul raised his axe to thepadlockeddoor.

“Standback,”hesaid.The pale-faced children,

eyeing his axe, stood as faraway from the door aspossible, their backs pressedagainst the bars. Saul swunghis axe against the padlock,

and missed. Cussing infrustration,hetriedagain.

Hebarelymadeadent.He was taking too long.

Muchtoolong.What if they ran into

serious trouble at the goblincamp? Saul started to panic.His breathing shortened, hischest felt tight. Like a steel

visewassqueezinghislungs.One of the wolves madeanotherreassuringrumble.

I can’t fail. I won’t fail.Theyneedme.Theyalldo.

Hetookadeepbreathandtried again, and again, andagain.

Hold on guys. Hold on.I’mcoming.

****Afterhe leftAnyanear a

gnarled old oak tree, Jonmade his way towards thegoblins camp. He licked histhumbandheldituptocheckthe check the direction ofprevailing air currents. Jontook special care to staydownwind from where the

goblin troopers lay asleep,given what Anya said abouttheirsenseofsmell.Tryingtostay in pools of shadow, heheaded toward where hisfatherandtheothermenwerechained.

Anya took down thegoblinsentriesafewminutesago, and gave him the

daggers she “liberated” from“those who no longer needthem.” She refused toelaborate further. The bladesclinked together in his armsand Jon wondered if thesoundwould give him away.HetriedtorememberifAnyamentioned whether goblinshave excellent or poor

hearing.Toolatenow.“Dad,” Jon said to his

dozingfather.Loganjerkedawake.“Jon! Oh, thank God

you’reallright.Itisyou,isn’tit?AmIdreaming?”

“It’sreallyme.I’msorry,Dad, I thought we’d get you

thekeys,but—”“These puny things?”

Logan snorted with derisionat his shackles.He raised uphis arms and the chains fellclinkingtotheground.

Jon widened his eyes insurprise.

“Remind me to explainthe other ways you can use

the Slayer. I’ve freed theothermentoo.”

“Speaking of daggers.”Jon handed the weapons hehadtohisfather.

“Thank you, lad. Here,take yours back.” Loganreturned the Slayer to herrightful owner. “And don’tyou dare let it out of your

sight. You’re to have thiswith you at all times, is thatunderstood?” He passed outthe blades to the rest of themen.

Jon watched Logan givethelastoftheweaponsaway.“Whataboutyou,Dad?”

“I always was a betterbrawler. Not much use with

daggers.Yourmotherthough,a whole other story.” Hewinked, smilingwith evidentpride.“Sowhat’stheplan?”

“Just be ready to attackwhen the time comes.” Jonscannedthecamp,hisanxietylevelrising.

“Isthereasignal?”“Not exactly. But you’ll

know.” Jon searched for atarget while he reached intohis pack. His sweaty fingerscurled around the topmostegg, safely nestled in itscocoon of dried leaves. Hefound what he was lookingfor—the goblin standingguard over the sleepingwomen. That would be his

firsttarget.Come on Anya. All up to

you now. Come on, before itgetstoolight…

****Anya began to slowly

count to five hundred underherbreathafter theboys left,wishing she had the comfortandreassuranceofherlupine

pack. But we all have ourtasks to perform. She wasmore nervous and exhaustedthan she let on, but saw nosense in worrying her newhuman friends. Not whentherewas nothing they coulddotohelp.

Besides, theyalreadyhadenoughontheirplates.

Shedid not tell them shenever tried to reach morethan two or three animalsalready bonded to her infriendship at any one time.Reaching the un-bondedadderstwodaysinarowtiredher more than she expected.Soonshewouldhavetoreachintotwoun-bondedoxenand

convince them to bolt towhereSaulwas,hopefully,inplace. Then she would haveto reach simultaneously intoallofherlupinefriends.Twotoguidethechildren,andtherest to help with the mainfightat thegoblincamp.Shewould need to continue herreaching for as long as they

needtowinthefight.Fourhundredandninety-

eight. Four hundred andninety-nine.Fivehundred.

Anya straightened herback, made sure she was aswell hidden as possible, andthenconcentratedon slowingherbreathing.

Ithadbegun.

CHAPTERSEVENTHEFIRSTRESCUEPandemonium.The oxen bellowed,

bolted, and broke free fromtheir tethers. Heads lowered,they snorted and chargedacrossthegoblincamp.Theyran through the campfire,

towing the wagon ofscreaming children behindthem. Glowing, red-goldembers that scattered aroundthecampsitelefttheirmarkinform of small smoky fireswhentheyscorchedthedriedsummer grass and thegoblins’ lightwoolen cloaks.Bones crunched and ragged

bodies flew as the oxengored, trampled, or ran overany trooper too slow to getout of their way. The pre-dawn air was thick with thescreamsofdyinggoblinsandthe scent of spilled blood,singed wool and burnedgrass.

“Now, Dad!” Jon hurled

theegg.The men leapt, blades

flashing, and slashed thethroats of goblins woundedby the pair of stampedingoxen. Jon’s egg smashedagainstanothergoblin’s fronttusks. The trooper droppedhis dagger, gagging, beforefalling to his knees, clawing

at his face and throat. Loganran up to him, gripped hishead,andthentwisted.

CRACK.It worked! He threw his

remaining eggs in quicksuccession.

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!Arti dashed to the gagginggoblins bent on the ground,

snatchedtwooftheirdaggersand stabbed them, one afteranother.

Jon unslung his bow,nocked his arrow, and tookaim.

No good. The light waschancy, and everyone wasmovingtoofast.

Geoffswunghismanacles

over his head, turning theminto a makeshift flail. Theimprovised weapon made asickeningthudasitcavedinaskull.Thegoblindroppedlikeafelledtree.

Teethbaredinaferalgrinand a dagger in each hand,Arti circled a lone goblin,moonlight glinting off the

edgeofherblades.Shedartedandfeintedinadeadlyduel.

Jondroppedhisbowontothe trampled grass as twogoblins approached, trying toflank him. Without warning,asnarlingflashofsilverleaptfrom the forest.Minari. Shelandedon thebackofoneofthe goblins, knocking him to

the ground, her teeth at hisneck.Jonheardawetcrunch.The goblin lay limp. Minarijumped off the carcass andlunged at another goblinapproaching Geoff. Herchops dripped orange withgoblinblood.

“Logan! Wolves!” Geoffshouted as he turned, his

makeshift flail making anominouswhir.

“No! They’re with us!”Jon said, distracted for amoment. He was afraid forthe pack as it swarmed thecampsite, snapping andlunging at every goblin inreach. As the words left hislips, the other goblin rushed

athim.JonhurledtheSlayer.The goblin dodged. TheSlayerthuddedharmlesslyonthetrampledsummergrass.

Jon froze, watching thegoblin raise his blade for akilling stroke, his mind acomplete blank when thegoblin stopped in his tracks,anexpressionofshockon its

bestial face. He swayed, andthen fell face-forward. Adagger hilt jutted from theback of his neck. Jon lookedup, open-mouthed, at hismother.

“Jon, focus!” Arti said.“And what did we tell youaboutthatknife?”Shedancedwith practiced ease away

from her opponent’s daggerthrusts.

Jon darted forward andretrievedtheSlayer.

Apairofsnarlingwolvesdragged Arti’s opponentdown.Sheslithisthroatwithprofessionalefficiency.

Breathing hard, Jonscanned the scene, counting

as quickly as he could.Thirteen goblin and eighthuman corpses. So thereshould be seven goblins leftalive.

So why can I only spotsix?Jon’sstomachfeltlikeithad dropped down to theground.Hewassickenedwithpanic.

DidAnyamiscount?DidI?Wiping the sweat from

his eyeswith impatience andtrying to quell a rapidlygrowing sense of panic, Joncountedagain.

****CaptainD’hibukwatched

the trio from his perch up in

the trees. His silhouetteperfectly blended with theshadowsoftheforestatnight.Ah! He could always counton the arrogance of theyoung. While he took thetime to sniff out their everymove, they did not evenbothertocheckifhewasstillatcamp.

Aside from theirarrogance, he also foundhumans gullible and greedy.Manipulating them requiredonlyintimidation,trickeryor,hispersonalfavorite,acertainamount of gold. A humanmud slogger could betempted to betray hissuperiorsforgold.Notsofor

goblin-kind.He smiledwhenthe immature human malesleft the MataPerak withoutevensomuchasatokenwolftoguardher.

Not that it would havemadeanydifference.

Captain D’hibukremained motionless andsilent, even asmetal crashed

and the dying cries of histroopersshatteredtheforest’scustomary pre-dawn chorus.He ordered his troopers tokeepthehumansoccupiedforas longaspossible,whateverthe cost. They were chattel.Expendable.Themissionwascrucial.And themissionwasnever about rounding up

humans. The mission, hismission, was always aboutobtaining the MataPerak atallcosts.

MataPerak.SilverEyes.He did not know why

General D’horek wanted herso badly.He did not need toknow.Heonlyknewhespentmonths laying this trap, ever

sinceheheardafewrumoredsightings of the MataPerak.Hereveledinthewarmglowof a job well done when hereflected on how all his hardwork would soon come tofruition.D’hibuktookalotofpersonal pride in the fact hefound his work deeplysatisfying.

His smile widened whenlupine snarls mingled withthescreamsofhistroopers.Alittle longer…He wonderedhow General D’horek wouldrewardhimforhiswork.

Now.D’hibuk jumped fromhis

perch, landing on the forestfloor like a single leaf on a

stillpond.Hecreptinperfectsilence behind theMataPerak, a crudeoak clubinhand.

In truth, D’hibuk did notreally care for any reward.The most important thing—no, the only thing—was thathe would make his Generalproud.

A goblin soldier’sabsolute, unquestioningloyalty to his superior waslegendary.

D’hibukraisedhisclub.****

Crack!The padlock finally

shattered.Saul briefly considered

putting Talitha in charge.Although very young, shewas fearless. Unfortunately,she also tended to disappearinto the bushes chasing aninterestingbeetle.

Sighing, Saul turned tothegirlnexttoTalitha.

“Erin, you’re in charge.”Saul slapped one of Anya’s

“liberated” daggers into herhand. He knew her well.After all, they had grown uptogether.Shehadagoodheadon her shoulders and wasreasonably adept withweapons. And significantlyless likely to disappear intothebushes,chasingabeetle.

“Take the oxen and

followthewolves.Stayquiet.Go.Now!”

“Butwhatiftheyeatus?”Erinasked.

Saulsighed.Butalsoabitofascaredy-cat.Ohwell.

“Theywon’t. Trustme. Idon’t have time to explain,just do it!” Saul shook hisfinger for emphasis. “Stay

quiet,staytogether,anddon’tgetlost!”

Saul raced to the goblincamp,prayingallhadgoneasthey planned. He burstthroughtheundergrowthwithhis axe raised high and afearsomewarcryonhis lips.Saul skidded to a halt, warcrydyinginhisthroat.

The wolves…what’swrongwiththem?

“Jon!”Saulcried.****

Thechildrenhadnotgonevery far at all when thewolves started rolling andthrashing on the ground. Allthechildrenhuddledtogether,terrified.

All,thatis,saveone.Talitha frowned. “What’s

wrongwiththem?”Erin pushed the other

children behind her, placingherselfbetweenthemandthewolves.

“I don’t know.” Erincaught Talitha in her arms,stroking the crown of her

head. “But I think Saul’sright. They’re not going tohurt us. I don’t even thinktheycan.”

“Tali!” Erin cried as thesmaller child broke free thendartedtooneofthethrashingwolves.

She crouched beside itand stretched out her hand

while Erin and the otherchildren watched in silentfear.

“It’s okay,” Talitha said,her fingers rhythmicallystroking the wolf’s silver-greyfur.“Nooneisgoingtohurtyou.”

****The officer!Where is the

goblin officer? Jon finallyrealized.

Without warning, all thewolves dropped to theground, whining and cryingas if in pain. They thrashedon their backs and sides,exposing their necks andvulnerablebellies.

Anya!

The fighting ceased for asplit second. A goblin,decidingtotakeadvantageofthe situation, turned andcharged at a thrashing albinowolf.

Minari!Her mind is melded with

theirs. If something happenstothem—

Jon raised Slayer andcharged, screaming,interceptingthegoblin’spath.He barreled into his side,knocked the trooper off hisfeet,andstabbedblindly.

“Jon!” Arti’s voice rangwithterror.

“Arti, no!” Logan said.“We cover thewolves. Trust

me.”Artislashedat theclosest

goblin as she turned. Logansidestepped his opponent,grabbed its outstretched arm,andtwisted.

The goblin howled inpain.

“Jon!”Jon looked up and saw

Saul on the other side of thecamp.

“Saul!It’sAnya!Go!”Saul turned and ran

crashingbackintotheforest.Jon kept on blindly

stabbing until the goblinstopped moving. He got upand charged at the next one,determined to keep on going

untilheknewAnyawassafe.Or until a goblin brought

himdown.Whichevercomesfirst.

****Saul crashed through the

undergrowth. The goblinofficer was bent over Anya,tying the last knots on theropesthatboundher.

“Lethergo!”Saulswunghisaxe.

Thegoblinofficerdodgedeasily.

“This is not your fight,boy.IamCaptainD’hibukofthe Unified Goblin Forces,and I order you to standdown.” D’hibuk rose andpickeduphisclub.

“No!She’smy friend, lether go.” Saul swung his axeagain.

D’hibuk leapt to the side.The boy and the goblincircledeachother.

“I have no quarrel withyou. Just turn around andwalk away. Your family issafe, and you will never see

my kind ever again.Everything can go back tonormal,justthewayitwas.IonlywanttheMataPerak,thefemale. What is she to youanyway? Just someone youmetafewdaysago.”

Saulstoppedinhistracks.Hefoundhimselfbetweenthegoblin officer and Anya. An

unfamiliar coldness washedthroughhismind.Heriskedaquick glance at Anya’s stillform.Stillbreathing.

“How did you know wemetjustafewdaysago?”

“BecauseI’vespentyearstracking the MataPerak andthe last few months layingthis trap to catch her.”

D’hibuk liftedhischin, chestthrust forward, shouldersback and feet apart. He wasglowingwithobviouspride.

Saulstudiedhisopponent.The goblin was not muchbigger than he was, andarmedonlywithanoakclub.

Anya said they weredeceptively fast and strong.

So,notgoododds.Whatelseis new? Well, he soundsarrogant.There is that inmyfavor.

“Whyissheso importanttoyou?”Saulasked.Have tokeep him talking.Get him tounderestimate me. Maybe Ican find a weakness. Saullowered his axe all the way

down, and let his left armhang limpathis sideandhisjawslacken.

“I can pay you anyamount of gold to secure thefemale.”

Got you. “Any amount?”Saul bent his head towardsthegoblin,anapparentgleamof avarice and speculation in

hiseyes.“Any amount,” D’hibuk

said, awheedling note in hisvoice. “Think of what thiskind of money can do foryourfamily.”

The goblin officerlowered his club slightly.SaulwatchedD’hibukrunhisyellow eyes over his

homespun shirt and tornleggings. He scratched hisarmpit and tried to looktemptedby thegoblin’sofferofgold.

“But…she’smyfriend.”“You are young. You’ll

make other, better, lessdangerous friends.” D’hibuklowered his club, and guard,

evenfurther.“It’s important to stay

loyaltofriends…”“But far more important

to stay loyal to your family.You’veonlybeen friends fora few days. How muchloyalty, if any, do you oweher?”D’hibukrestedhisclubontheground.

Saul studied the goblin,his brows furrowed inconcentration. As ifconsidering what the goblinofficer said and trying tocomeupwithaprice.

Light leather armor,unhardened. My axe can cutthroughthatlikebutter.

“Howmuch?”Saulasked

as he walked towards thegoblin, casually dragging hisaxe on the ground behindhim. The weapon left ashallow groove as it cutacross the leaf laden forestfloor.

“Well,”D’hibuk said.Hereached for his pouches, asatisfied smile on his tusked

face.Must wait. Need to be

closer.Catchhimoff-guard.D’hibuktookhiseyesoff

Saulforasplit-second.Now!Saul swung his axe with

as much force as he couldmuster in his right arm. Theaxe sliced through the

goblin’slightarmorandstuckin his ribcage at an upwardangle.

D’hibuk shrieked in painand surprise. He swung hisclubatSaul.

Toolate.Saulraisedhisleftarmto

blocktheblowwhileshakinghis axe free from D’hibuk’s

ribs. D’hibuk screamed inrenewed agony. Saul’s leftarm turned numb from theslamoftheclub,useless.

Buthisaxewasfree.Saul hacked again, one-

handed. The axe bit deeplyinto D’hibuk’s shoulder,close to the neck. D’hibukdropped his club, fruitlessly

trying to stanch the flow ofblood from his wounds withhishands.

A red mist crept acrossSaul’seyes.Heraisedhisaxeand swung down again, andagain,andagain.

“Son, you can stop now.It’sover.”

Saulfeltawarm,familiar

hand grip his shoulder. Thered mist receded from hisvision. Saul gladly droppedhis bloodied axe and,weeping, buried his face inthe warm, comfortingexpanse of his father’s broadchest.

CHAPTEREIGHTTOLINWOOD

Geoff surveyed the ruins

of the goblins’ camp, carefulto keep his faceexpressionless. Logan waspatting down the last clumpof dirt over the last grave.Karin ducked intowhat used

tobethegoblincaptain’stenttocheckonthechildren.Andto check on the cyrion. Let’snot forget her. Arti wasstirring a pot of who-knows-what, made with ingredientssalvaged from who-knows-where, over the resurrectedremains of the goblins’campfire. Not very many

Outpostcivilianssurvivedtherescue attempt at dawn. Nottheadults,atanyrate.

Geofffocusedonhisson,Saul. They shouldn’t havemeddled. Jon gathered morefuel, as per his mother’sdirections. True to form,instead of helping in someway, Saul was gamboling

around and chattering to Jonlike a demented loon. Geoffforced himself to turn away,lips pressed tight in a bittersmileofdisappointment.Toohard? Karin always said Iwas too hard on the boy. Ifonlythisweretrue.IfearI’mnot hard enough. Geoffrubbed his hand, calloused

from fourteen years ofsmithing, over his stubbledface and heaved a sigh offrustration.

Assigned dutiescompleted and the mealcooked to Arti’s satisfaction,they all gathered around theresurrected campfire. Artispoonedpottage into chipped

bowls. Logan distributed thesteamingbowlsandgaveArtia peck, oblivious to thestreaks of dried goblin bloodon her cheek. His own bowlinhand,Loganjoinedtherestof them. He sat cross-leggedbesidethefiretoeat.Geoff’seyesrestedbrieflyonhisson.Saul had grabbed the bowl

handed to him and slurpedwithout even waiting for aspoon.

Foolish, ill-manneredboy.

After a while, Logan puthis spoon into his emptybowl. “We’ve let you down.You boys shouldn’t havebeen forced to mount a

rescue.” He set his emptiedbowlaside.“Wetriedtokeepyouout.We toldyou to stayput.”

Saul turned to Karin.“Mum, will Anya be allright?”

“Isthathername?”Karinpicked twigs off Saul’s hair.“Shehasasmallbumponher

head, but she seems fine.Onlytired.Likeyoutwolittlecubs.”

Arti smiled and tweakedherson’scheek.

“Mum…” Jon frownedandtwistedawayfromArtiinprotest.

The cyrion again. Geoffput his emptied bowl on the

trampled summer grass. Nosense wasting time on her.We all know how this mustend. I need to redirect this.“Time is short. Ask yourquestionsnow.”

Saul glared at them withaccusation. “If you couldfightsowell,whydidyouletthe goblins take you? How

didyouevenlearntofight?”“Yeah.”Jonhurriedtoset

down his still half-full bowl.“And how come the inndidn’t burn? Also, why didAnya say our weapons aremagic? And you said TheSlayer can do other things.Thingslikewhat?”

Geoff studied Saul,

keeping his face impassiveand trying hard to fight thebitter disappointmentwellinginside. A foolish boy, askingfoolishquestions.

“We’re going to have totell them at some point.”Karin tousled Saul’s sun-litblondhair.“IcanhearNaeembellowing for a report

already. Plus, our cover’scompletelyblown.”

“Butmakethemworkforit.” Arti leaned back on herelbows and stretched out herlegs, amused expectation onher face. “Make this fun,Geoff. Give them somethingtostartwith,andseehowfartheycango.”

Geoff spotted the twinkleof pride in Arti’s coffee-brown eyes as she watchedJon.Heglanced at Saulwitha twingeof doubt.Perhaps Iexpect too much of him, toofast? He cleared his throat.“Tellme lads, haveyoueverheardoftheWatchers?”

“Anya asked us if you

wereWatchers.”Saulpausedfor a moment, studying thegrumps’ faces. “You are,aren’tyou?”Heturnedtohismother. “Mum, what areWatchers?”

Geoff bit his lip andstifledtheurgetosigh.KarinhadaskedhimtobeeasieronSaul,andhecouldneverdeny

hiswifeanything.“Thisisasfar as you can go?” Geoffkept his voice flat and theexpression on his faceinscrutable.

“You said your cover isblown.”JonnoddedatKarin.“Which must mean regularpeople don’t realize you’reWatchers. And you said

someone’s going to bebellowing for a report?Which means there areothers.Superiors?”

“Go on,” Logan said.“Try using those deductionsto answer your ownquestions.”

“This must be why youcan fight sowell,”Saul said.

“But why did you let thegoblinstakeyou?”

Geoff glanced at hissquad. They kept silent,expectant expressionswreathedontheirfaces.

Saul’s eyes widened inhorrified realization. “Youdidn’twanttorisktheothers.Or you wanted to find out

where they’d take you, andfigure out what their planswere. We messed up yourplan,didn’twe?I’msorry.”

“No,lad,”Logansaid,hisvoice somber. “I think wefound out what they wanted.As things turned out, wecouldn’t keep most of thecivilians safe anyway.”

Regret crossed Logan’s faceas he turned to the row offreshly made graves, whichlined one side of thecampsite.

“Oh,” Saul said. “Sothat’swhyyoumadeusdoallthosecrazythings.”

Karin smiled andstraightened Saul’s collar.

“Whatcrazythings?”“Like dropping us down

the well,” Saul said, hiseyebrowarched.

Arti snorted. “Dropped?Weletyouusetheladder.”

“Andleftusinthemiddleof the forest.” Jon’s voicerosewithaccusation.

Loganflappedhishandin

dismissal.“Hardlyrightinthemiddle. You were within aday’shikeoftheOutpost.”

“Butwetooktwodaystoeven get to the campsite,”Saulsaid.

Geoff shot an amusedlook at Logan. “We took thescenicroute.”

“It took us three days to

findourwayback,”Jonsaid.“You took an evenmore

scenic route?” Logan archedhiseyebrows.

“All the magic we’veencountered,” Jon said. “Thewards on the Inn and on ourweapons. You wereresponsible, weren’t you?”He paused and studied each

Watcher in turn. “No spellcaster has gone through theOutpost,soit’sgot tobeoneofyou.Whoisit?”

Geoff rose from theground, made a quickgraceful bow, and then sankbackdownagain.

Saul’smouth fellopen inuttershock.

“We’re Watchers, lads,”Logan said, an expansivesmile on his face. “Wemustbe ready to pull up stakes atany time and start oversomewhere else. Knowing atleast two trades ispartof thedeal.”

“Wait a minute.Mastering a trade takes

years,”Jonsaid.“No one is talking about

mastery,” Karin said. “Wecangetbyandfoolthecasualobserver. Anyone else iseither another Watcher, orsomeone who needswatching. But let’s return toyour other questions. Weneedtogosoon.”

“My dagger,” Jon said.“You used it to unlock yourchains,right?”Heunsheathedthe Slayer and examined theblade. “Squirrel Slayer. Ishould’ve known. Squirrelsaresmall,andcangetalmostanywhere. That’s why yousuggested the name for mydagger.”

Logan’s smile grewwider.

“Dad,cantheSlayeropenanykindoflock?”Jonasked.

“No, lad,” Logan said,suddenly somber. “Yourdagger can’t open magicallocks. There’s usually a verygoodreasonforsomethingtobemagicallysealed.”

“But what do Watchersdo? Aside from watching, Imean,”Saulsaid.

Geoff favored his sonwithanapprovingsmile.Saulblushed.

“There hasn’t been amajor war in this continentfor over a thousand years.Thankstoourwork,mostly.”

Finally. The boy asks anintelligentquestion.Tookhimlongenough.

“SoWatchersareineverypart of the continent?” Jonasked.

“Yes,” Arti said. “Well,except the frozen Northernwastes. And the onlycreatures who live there are

…” She shrugged andgesturedat thepileofgoblincorpses.

“Wehavetowrapthisupand get on the road.” Geoffglancedatthesky.

Alreadyalmostnoon.He regretted not taking

the time toensure therewereno other goblin bands in the

area. The boys said thataccordingtothecyrion’swolfpack,therewerebiggerbandsto theNorth, but none in theimmediate environs of thecampsite.

Butwhichfoolwouldtakethewordofacyrion?

“CanwetakeAnyahomewith us? She’s hurt,” Saul

said.“No, we’re not going

home. We’re going toLinwood.”ArtiturnedtoJon.“You’re going to meet yourGrampaNaeem.”

“I have a Grampa?” Jonfrowned. “How comeyou’venevermentionedhimbefore?What’shelike?”

There was a fleetingexpression of guilt on Arti’sface as she turned away. Anexpression Jon missedcompletely.

Jonshrugged.“CanAnyastillcome?”

The adults exchanged aknowingglance.

“Of course.Get theother

children ready. Time to go,”Logansaid.

The boys jumped up andscampered into the goblincaptain’s tent. The adultsstood around the remains ofthe campfire in silence, theirbacks turned to the tent, andwaited until both boys wereoutofearshot.

“The female,”Geoff saidin his soft baritone. “She isdefinitelyacyrion?”

“Yes,” Logan nodded.“The goblins were after her.We can’t eliminate her yet,though.” He turned over hisshoulder and glanced at thetent. “Notwith our boys andtheotherchildrenhere.”

“But,whenwedothis…”Karin set her pleading blue-greyeyesonGeoff.EyeslikeSaul’s. “The boys…she’stheir friend. How would weexplain—?”

Arti studied the ground.“Well, they’re of Watcherblood. They’ll manage. Orthey’lllearnto.”Shesounded

unconvinced.Logan shook his head,

frowning. “And their maincamp,upNorth?”

“We send the militarydivision after them,” Geoffsaid. “This is a job for theKnights, not Field Watcherslikeus.”Hesighed.“Wehaveto go to Linwood and report

thisinperson.Thissituation’stoo complex for a writtenreport.Also,IsayweasktheKnights to bring at least onegoblin to Linwood alive, tosee if they’re planninganythingmore.”Geoffturnedto his squad. “Are weagreed?”

Theyallgavetheirassent.

“And we’ll have to usetheportaltogettoLinwood.”Logansaid.

“I can already hear Dadchewing us out for using theportal,” Arti said. “But weneed to get everyone toLinwood quickly. We alsodon’t have enough food ormedicineforalongtrek.”

“Mum, Dad! Come on.Let’sgo!”Saulsaid.

Geoffrolledhiseyes.Andthe boy still hasn’t learnedanybasicmanners.

“Coming,” Karin said.Her slender hand rested onhisarmforabriefmoment,asif telling him to be patient.She turned away and hurried

to ready all the children forthejourneytoLinwood.

****Jon stood in the shadows

of the elm trees lining thetrail to the Free City ofLinwood. They crossed theLinwood/Outpost portal andthe grumps decided to stopforthenightasthesunbegan

to set. He watched the otherchildren, mostly orphansnow, play in the clearingbesidethetrack.Henolongerfelt likehewasoneof them.He’d been marked both bythe sacrifices he forced themto endure— the loss of theirparents—and by the killingshemadeearlierintheday.

Blood stained his hands.Hissoulwastainted.

Jon sankonhishaunchesand bent his head, fingerstrailing over the debriscoveringtherootsoftheelm.Hehadnochoice.Itwasthemor us. He winced andsquinchedhiseyesshutashereplayed the scene in his

mind.The whoofing sound

when he made the fatalembrace, knocking the windfrom the first goblin. Thewarm splash drenching hisarm after he made his firststab. The shock of bright-orange goblin blood drippingfrom his arm. The shudders

of a living creature’s finalbreath. The look of terror onthenextgoblin’sface.Nooneevergavehimalooklikethatbefore.

Thelookofutterfear.It was all his fault. The

grumps would’ve been fine.If not for his stupid plan,Anya would never be in

danger. And I wouldn’t needto—

A warm, moist tonguelashed his cheek. He lookedup to Minari’s laughinglupineface.

“Foundhim.”Jonheardafamiliarpipingvoicesay.

His face broke out in asmile at the sight of Anya’s

slightfigureandthesoundofSaul, crashing through theunderbrush.

Anyasank to thegroundand sat cross-legged besidehim. “You were right, Saul.He’sbrooding.”

Her hand snaked out andpetted the ruff of Minari’sneck.

Saulstoodbeforethetwoof them for a moment, hishead cocked. Light from thesettingsuncasthisfeaturesinshadow.

“I told you he’s abrooder.”He joinedAnyaontheground.“So,whatareyouworryingaboutnow?”

The smile drained from

his face. Jon bit his lip,hunched his shoulders, andreturned to studying theground.

“Letmeguess.”Saulsaid.Jonglanceduptohisbest

friend. Back ramrod straightand eyes closed, Saul placedthe tips of his thumbs underhischeekbonesandthetipsof

hisforefingeronhisforehead.Anya smiled as Saul

hummed then said, “You’reworried that we’re going tohave even more pottage fordinner?”

Anya giggled. “Pottageisn’t bad. Wait until you tryacornandwillowbarksoup.”

Saul hummed louder,

shaking his head. “No, that’snot it. You’re worried aboutmetellingeveryoneyouwearpinkundergarments.”

“I do not,” Jon said overhoots ofAnya’s laughter.Heturned to her, his face beetred. “I swear I don’t wearpinkundergarments.”

Saul put down his hands,

and grinned at Jon, his grey-blue eyes snapping withmirth.“Idareyoutoshowheryour undergarments asproof.”

He scooted away,shoutinginmockpainasJonpelted him with leaves andtwigs. “If you want me tostopguessingwhat’sonyour

mind,starttalking.”Jon sighed, before

looking at each of them inturn. “I’ve been thinkingabout, you know, whathappenedearliertoday.”

Saulturnedaway,hisfacesomber.“Yeah,metoo.”

Jon sank back to theground, pulled his knees to

hischest,andlockedhisarmsaroundthem.“Ican’thelpbutwonderifonlywelistenedtothegrumpsandstayedput.Orif only I planned things outbetterandkeptaneyeonthatblasted captain, thenmaybe…” He looked up.Saul’s haunted eyes reflectedhisownguilt.

“Maybetherewouldn’tbeas many people, or evengoblins, dead?” Saul’s facetwistedinabittersmile.“It’snotyourfault,youknow.It’smine. It was my idea to goafter the goblins and rescuethe grumps. Your plan wasgood. I justwasted toomuchtime breaking the stupid

padlock.” Saul’s face grewcolder,moreaccusatory.“Myfault.Icanseeitonmydad’sface.”

Jonhatedtheself-loathinginhisfriend’svoice.

“Icouldhavedonebetter.Ishouldhavebeenbetter.”

“No, Saul,” Jon said.“Youdidn’tmessup.Idid.It

was my plan. So I messedup.”

Anya sighed and shookher head. “You are bothsilly.” She turned to Jon. “Ifyou stayed put, then Iwouldtry to rescue them on myown. Then more peoplewould’ve probably died,includingme.” She turned to

Saul “If you had notsuggested going after thegrumps, Istillwould’ve triedrescuing them on my own.Do either of you regret notlettingmeriskmylife,nottomention the lives of mypack?”

Jonshookhishead. Anya rose from the

ground, brushed the driedleaves and twigs clinging toher skirt, and then paced theground. “I’ve been around along time.A very long time.AndIcantellyouthismuch.”ShestoppedandspuntoJon.“Your plan was a good one.The best anyone could havecomeupwith,givenwhatwe

knewandthecircumstances.”She bowed her head. “If

anyonemessedup,itwasme.I was supposed to be spyingon them and I didn’t noticethatblastedcaptainwasgone.Iamsorryforthat.”Sheliftedher head, pausing for amoment before turning toSaul. “If you hadn’t come

when you did, I don’t knowwhat would’ve happened.”Her bright silver eyes lockedonto Saul’s flushed face.“Thankyou.”

She resumed her pacingfor a moment, beforestoppingyetagain.“Cometothinkofit,Ioweyoubothmylife.Ishallhavetorepaythat

debt someday.” She noddedherhead,asifmakingapact,and then continued. “Thosegoblins would have diedregardless.Itwasthemorus.Does it really matter whosehanddealtthefinalblow?”

“I suppose not,” Saulsaid, reluctanceonevery lineofhissun-litface.

Jon stared at the ground,compulsively rubbing hishands on his leggings. “Thatall makes sense. But then,why do I feel different?” Hetilted his head up at her.“Tainted?”

Anya shook her head.“Nottainted.Marked.”

“Andhowisthatbetter?”

Saulasked.“You’remarkedaspeople

who will always do whatneedstobedone,regardless.”She knelt back down andlooked at them in turn. “I’vebeen taught it’s a mark ofvalorandcourage.Somethingto be proud of.” She jerkedherheadattheotherchildren

playing in the clearing.“Could any of them havedone what you did?” Sheshrugged. “I don’t know.Withyoutwo,Ido.”

Jonhuffedand laiddownonhisback.“Thatmaybe.Atleast now we won’t have toworryaboutthatkindofstuffanymore.”

Saul leaned forward, hisbrows furrowed. “What doyoumean?”

Jon watched the elmbranchesrustlinginthewarmsummer breeze. “Well, thegrumps are here now. Theycan worry about all the big,important stuff. And we cangobacktohavingfun.”

Anya looked away.“Whataboutme?”Shebitherlip. “I could go back to theforest,Iguess.”

Jonpulledhimselfupinasingle fluid motion. “That’ssilly, Anya.” He shared aglance with an equallyamusedSaul.“You’restayingwith us, of course. Right,

Saul?”Saul nodded with

enthusiasm, unruly hairflopping all over his highforehead. “Yeah,Anya.Nowthat I know Dad can domagic, I’ll just ask him tomagica roomupforyou.Orsomething.”

Jon returned to lying on

his back and resumedstudying the play of elmleaves. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.You’ll see. And you’ll bestaying with us in Grampa’shouse,inLinwood.”

Saulsnorted.“Mumsaidit’s a Watcher town. Nice,safe,predictable.”Hesmiled,the tip of his tongue sticking

out of his mouth. “Wonderwhatthethreeofuscandotochangethat?Whatdoyouallsay?Let’s bring some life totheplace.Soundlikefun?”

Jonrolledonhissideandstudied his friends. “Yes.That definitely sounds likefun.”

The radiant smile that lit

up Anya’s face was answerenough.

CHAPTERNINETHEGRAMPS

Jonscrubbedhisfootwith

sullendetermination.Afterallthat happened, all heaccomplished, he still foundhimself thrust into theabsolute worst thing inexistence.

Abath.A rose and lilac scented

bath.A girly, rose and lilac-

scentedbath.Withextrabubbles.Ugh.Even his Grampa Naeem

couldn’t get him out of thatone.Granted,theyallstankof

mud,sweat,androtteneggs.Butstill.He and Grampa

recognized each other askindred souls the momenttheymet.NaeemansweredallJon’s questions and indulgedJon’s peculiar interest ingeology.Together,theyspenthours poring over Naeem’s

samples of strange-shapedquartz, local limestone, andglassyvolcanicrocks.Healsotook the time toshowoffhisextensive collection of booksas well as curiousmathematical and alchemicalinstruments.

Thwarting Arti’snumerous requests for

anonymity, Grampa Naeemshowed Jon all his favoritespotsinLinwood.

Jon loved his Grampa.And he knew Grampa lovedhim.

Linwoodwasaneat littletown. Grampa said it was aknownWatchertown.

WhenJonaskedwhatthe

term meant, Grampa Naeemsaid people know there areWatchers in Linwood. Theyjust don’t know whichLinwood residents were thereal Watchers, with genuineWatcher tattoos, and whowere only pretending to beWatchers.

The bad times were

finallyover.Jonfelthecouldrelax and return to being asimpleboy.

Unfortunately, being asimpleboyalsomeanttakingnot-so-simplebaths.

Jon lowered his mouthintothewarmwaterandblewfrustrated bubbles as hestudiedthedoorsonopposite

sides of the mudroom. Onedoor led to the backyard andthe other, to the kitchen. Heconsidered making a run forthe backyard, but decidedagainstit.

Mum might make himtake another bath for thesheerfunofit.

Besides, he didn’t have

the key to the locked sidegate that led to freedom. Sohe’d only trap himself in thebackyard. With chickens forcompany. He studied at thekitchen door where hismother and Greta werecurrentlypreparingamealofsomekind.Fromthesmellofit, something that involved

garlicandginger.“Jon, come on! You’ve

gottobedonebynow,”Saulsaid from the kitchen side ofthemudroomdoor.

Grinning, Jon got out ofthe tub and dripped all overthestonefloorashesearchedforthetowelandhisclothes.

“Mum, where are my

clothes?”“Mine were gone too,”

Saulsaid.“Putonwhatever’stheresowecangoexplore.”

Jonfoundasetofclothesneatly folded on the woodenbench sitting along one sideof thewall.As he pulled thetunicoverhishead,heheardacroakyvoice.

“I tole you. You have toslice them garlic fin. Finenoughtoalmostseethrough.Wot you trying to do withthem chunks, scare awayvampiresorsomefin’?”

“I’ve missed you too,Greta,” came his mother’sreply.

Jon pushed open the

mudroom door and sawSaul’sgrinningface.

“And you two, throw outthedirtywaterbeforeyougo.Can’tbeexpectin’metodoitall. Not at my age,” saidGreta, a tall, elderly womantowering beside Arti by thecuttingboard.

Greta had a voice like a

bullfrogwithlaryngitis,andaface like she spent most ofher considerable lifetimesuckinglemons.

They turned around andwentbackintothemudroom.JontookonehandleandSaulthe other handle of the tub.They lifted iton thecountofthreeandheaded towards the

backyard.Jonhadjustopenedthe door to the backyardwhenheheardGretasayfromthekitchen:

“Them boys need ahaircut.Where’sme scissors,then?”

Theboys threwthewaterout, dropped thewooden tubclattering on the mudroom

floor,before running throughthekitchentothefrontroom,determined to get out ofGreta’s reach before shefound her scissors. They ranpastNaeeminthefrontroom,his nose buried deep in abook.

“Slow down there, lads,”Naeemsaid,puttinghisbook

aside.He sat on a comfortable

upholstered couch of carvedrosewood with mother-of-pearl inlays. The front roomwas flooded with the lightthat streamed in throughgenerous windows, fittedwithpanesofclearglass.

“Don’t worry about the

scissors,” Naeem said. “Shewon’t be cutting hair today,boys. I’d be baldmyself if Ileft them in the house. Iburied them by the chickencoop in the backyard. Nochance of her getting them.Chickens terrify her.” Hepaused, as if to re-considerhislaststatement.“Well,live

chickens,anyway.”“Wot you do with me

scissors,youcrazyolefool?”Greta bellowed from thekitchen.

“Greta,you’rescaringthechildren,” Naeem said, ablissfulsmileonhislips.

“Is she a Watcher too?”Saulaskedinasoftvoice.

“No,lad.Gretais…Greta.Actually,you’dbettercallherGrammy Greta. Yes, I thinkshe’d like that. She mightdecide not to torture you asmuch.”

“Is she my…grandmother?” Jon tried tokeep his face impassive andthehorrorfromhisvoice.

Naeemlaughed.“No,lad.Of course not! She’s beenwiththefamilyforyears.Wegrew up together, she and I.Your grandmother diedyoung, so she practicallyraisedyourmother.”

Naeem tweaked hischeeks. Jon did not mindwhenhisgrandfathertweaked

his cheeks. He bore thecomforting, masculine scentof sandalwood and agedtobacco, while his mothertendedtosmelllikewhatevershewascookingatthetime.

“Why does she talk somean?”Jonasked.

“Themeaner she talks toyou,themoreshelovesyou.”

“Well, she must love usvery much,” Saul said, hiseyebrowsarched.

“And that is Greta,”Naeem said. “Just don’t tellherIsaidso.”Hewinked.

“But she’s really old,Grampa,” Jon said.“Shouldn’t she retire, orsomething?”

Naeemlaughed.“Thelasttime I suggested she do so,she chasedmewith a broomandlockedmeoutofmyownhouse foraweek.”Heshookhis head. “Sorry lad, I’mnottrying that again. I did try togetherahelperthough.”

“Where is her helper?”Jon craned his neck and

lookedaround.“I said ‘tried’. He was a

nice enough lad, ofNomadictribe stock, from the farSouth.Gretawasverynicetohim.” Naeem paused for amoment, frowning. “Whichreally should have tippedmeoff.”

“What happened?” Saul

said.“Gretapoisonedhim.”“What?”bothboyssaidin

unison.“Not fatally,” Naeem

said, flapping his hands.“With pigeon berries. Theshrub grows by the lowwallinthebackyard.Gretaslippedthemintoeverythingthepoor

lad ate and drank. He didn’teven last the week.” Naeemleaned back on the couch.“You know, no one couldeverproveshedidit.”

“You talkin’ about me,youcrazyolefool?”

“Whyyes,Greta,”Naeemsaid.

“Wot you tellin’ them,

then?”“We love you,” Naeem

said, a playful twinkle in hisjeteyes.

“Wot you talkin’ about,you crazy ole fool?” Gretastomped into the front room,arms akimbo, smelling ofoliveoilandfreshgarlic.

“Goodmorning,Grammy

Greta,”bothboysgreetedherin unison, shrinking backslightlyfromherpresence.

The thunderous scowl onher wrinkled brows softenedwhenshespottedthem.

“You lookin’ for yourfriend,then?”

Jon nodded. Saul stooduncharacteristically still and

quiet, terror on every line ofhisface.

“Well, she’s visitin’ themarket square, in town. Ifyou’re going, ‘ere’s somespendin’ money.” GretahandedSaulasmallpouchofcoins.

SheshotadefiantglareatNaeem, as if daring him to

object. Naeem closed hiseyes, and emitted anobviouslyfakesnore.

Greta snorted in triumph.“Mind you remember to getthat girl somefin’. She’s agood ‘un.” She gave Naeemanothersnortbeforestompingbacktothekitchen.

“About your friend,”

Naeem said, his eyessnapping open. He held hishandouttohalttheboyswhowereabouttodashoff.“Whatdoyouknowabouther?”

“HernameisAnya.She’sa cyrion, and she can askanimals to do things,” Jonsaid.

“Yeah. She helped us

rescuethegrumps.”“Grumps?”“Grown-ups,” Saul said.

“She and her wolf friendshelped rescue the grumps.But her friends can’t comeinto town. And we couldn’tsaveeverybody.”Saullookedaway,shame-faced.

“I’m sure you did your

best. That’s what counts.”Naeem smiled when Saulperkedup.

Arenewedwarmfloodoflove for his Grampa rushedthroughJon.

Naeem peered at themoverhisreadingglasses.“Butwhatdoyouladsknowaboutcyrions?”

“Only what she told us.”Jon tried thinking back towhat exactly itwas she said,and realized that she had nottoldthemverymuchatall.

“Well, when you do findher, you two need to beespeciallyprotective.Cyrionsarenotgenerallywell-liked.”

“Why, Grampa?” Jon

said.“Just…be wary of her,”

Naeemsaid.“Therearesomebooksoncyrionsinmystudy,ifyou’dcaretolook.”

Jon shot his childhoodfriend a quick glance andcaught Saul discreetlyshaking his head. No. Nobooks.Notiftheycouldhelp

itwas theclearmessage. Jonloweredhishead,andstudiedthe floor, biting his lips tightto hide his mirth. Saul hadalwayshatedreading.

After a moment, Jonlookeduptohisgrandfather’sface.“Maybelater,Grampa.”

A now-familiar stompingechoedinthehallway.

“Think I’ll do a bit ofshoppin’ myself,” Greta saidtonooneinparticular.“Mindyou boys grab a bite beforeyougo.Gotsomerollsinthekitchen.Made ‘em fresh thismornin’.You’rebothtoofin,youare.”

Without another word,Gretaleftthehouse.

“Notice? Even Greta’sworried about your littlefriend.” Naeem patted hispockets.“Oh,andbeforeyougo, take this key to the sidegate.”

Jon took a small bronzekeyfromhisgrandfather.

“Don’t lose it, and don’tforgettolockthesidegateup

againorthechickenswillgetloose. If you ever want towanderoutsidetown,youcanjumpoverthelowwallinthebackyard.”

“Why not build a higherwall, Grampa Naeem?” Saulasked.

“ThisisaWatcherhouse,lad.Theremightcomeatime

when we need to…disappearquickly.” Naeem rose fromthe couch. “Right then, offyou go. Daylight’s wastingand you have a city toexplore.Havefun.”

CHAPTERTENLINWOOD(AKATHE

WALLEYE)Anya strolled through the

streets of the Free City ofLinwoodwith a young ravenperchedonher shoulder.Shehad coaxed the raven downfrom his branch outside her

window earlier with a shinybutton, and promised to givehimmorebuttonsifheagreedtobehereyesfortheday.

So far, she lovedLinwood. She loved thejugglers and buskers at thesquare.Shelovedthecolorfulstalls where countlessvendors offered everything

from fresh fish to books toribbons.She thought thebeststall of all was the jewelrystall.

The raven agreed withher, although he thought thefishstall,withitsmultitudeofbrilliant,delectablefishyeyeson display, was a closesecond.Thejewelrystallheld

dozens of pretty, sparklingrings, necklaces andpendants, all sold at “veryreasonable prices,” at leastaccording to the vendor. Sheand the raven agreed that‘shiny’ was their absolutefavoritecolor.

Anya was looking overthe vendor’s selection of

ringswhen it dawned on herthat she would eventuallyhave to return to the forest.When she shifted into ananimal form, any trinket shebought would inevitably endup lost somewhere on theforest floor. The raven krak-ed his suggestion that shesimply give him the trinket,

rather than give it to ananonymousbitofforestfloor.Maybe it would help himattractamate.

Anyashookherheadwitha regretful smile at the evenmore regretful vendor—andraven—andwentonwalking.

All these people! Anyacould not believe the sheer

numberofpeople in thecity.She avoided talking to them.Being among so manyhumans made her feel…shy.She simply enjoyed beingaround their bustle andchatter.Why did I stay awayforsolong?Shesteeredclearof human settlements sinceher mother passed over a

century ago. She’d alwaysloved being in humansettlements and being amonghumans. How nice it was tobelong toapeople. Itwassodifferent from the forest.Shewascaptivated.

Enchanted.“Anya!”Afamiliarpiping

voicebroke the spell thecity

had cast on her. The ravenlooked around and spottedtiny Talitha waving. Anyahadwalkedallthewaytothecity orphanage without evenrealizingit.

Talitha ran towards her,stillwaving,hercurly,blondehair dressed in ribbons. Blueto match her eyes and her

new dress. Talitha unlatchedthe lowgarden gate, ran out,and gave Anya a hug thatburied her face in Anya’sskirt.

“I wanta say thank you.Thankyou,”Talithasaidwithamuffledvoice.

“You’re welcome.” Anyastroked the little girl’s hair,

careful not to muss a singleribbon.

“I’ve been adopted. Thisis from my new Mama andPapa. Pretty, huh?” Talithatwirled around to show offhernewdress.

“Yes. Very.” Anya wasnot surprised Talitha wasadoptedsoquickly.Whenshe

turnedonhercharms,Talithawasimpossibletoresist.

“Whereareyourwoofs?”“They can’t come in the

city, so I sent them home,”Anyasaid.

They jumped when anunfamiliar, grating voice fellon them. “‘Oi! Wot’s thisaboutwolves,then?”

The raven turned andAnya saw a short, red-faceddisheveled man walk up tothem.Hisarmswerecocked,his hands clenched into fistsandhis scrawnychestpuffedupasfarasitwouldgo.Anyathought he resembled abantam rooster preparing fora fight. She smiledwhen the

raven krak-ed his offer topeck one of the man’s eyesouttoteachhimalesson.

“You laffin’ at me?” themansaid.

“Birdie said somethingfunny, huh?” Talitha said, agap-toothed smile on herfreckledface.

The man’s beady eyes

narrowed with suspicion.“Youtalktobirds,then?”

“Andwoofs.”“You talk to birds and

wolves? Wot are you, somekindofawitch?”

A small crowd wasgathering around them, as ifpreparing to watch a freestreet show. Anya supposed

theywereabout tobe treatedto one. She tensed herself,readytodobattle,shouldsheneedto.Shewouldprefernotto. Which animal could sheconceivably reach into in ahumancity?Rats?Roaches?

“No.She’sashifter.”“Iknowsaboutyoushifty

shifters. You steal babies

fromgood‘onestfolklikeus,thenturnthemintomonsters,youdo.”

“No. She’s good. You’remean.”Armsakimbo,Talithaputherdainty,doll-likeframebetween Anya and thebantamfighter.

“Youpicking’ fightswithlittle girls now, Jaelyn?” a

voicetauntedfromthecrowd.“Rightfinehero,youare.”

Jaelyn’s sunburned faceflushed an even uglier shadeof red. “Get out of the way,girl! That there’s a shifter.She’dstealyouawayandturnyou intosomething…evil.Orturnintoadragonandeatyouright up. Or turn into a

volcano and blow us all up.S’not right for her to be outhere, with the rest of usregular, decent folk. Needslockin’up,shedoes.”

“No!”Talithacriedinfulltantrum mode. “She’s good.You’re mean. And rude. I’llthumpyou.”

She swungherarms, tiny

handsballed into fists, tryingtohitaman twiceherheightand many more times hersize. A single, blue-silkribbonflutteredtothedust.

Anyawas touchedby thelittle girl’s bravado. No onehad ever stood up for herbefore. She cast her mindaround in desperation,

lookingforsomecreatureshecould reach into, anycreature, other than rats orroaches.

Or pigeons. I hatepigeons.

“Aimalittlelower,love,”someone in the crowdsuggested.

“Oi!Whose side are you

on?” Jaelyn said, turning tothecrowd.

“Definitely not yours,Jaelyn Rotter! Why’re youpicking’onlittlegirls,then?”a blessedly familiar voicesaidfromthecrowd.

ThecrowdpartedtomakewayforthewrathofGreta.Itwas move, or be trampled

under her sturdy leatherboots. She carried a wovenwicker basket, with a bunchof leeks sticking out of oneend and a large walleye fishstickingoutoftheother.

Anya found herselfrelaxing.JonandSaultrustedthegrumps.Sothatmeantshecouldtrustthemalso.

“And you lot!” Gretaturned her outrage on thehaplesscrowd,whosuddenlybecame professional-grade,nonchalant whistlers andshoe-starers. Her slate-greyeyes narrowed, her lips,thinnedintoadangerousline.“I’lldealwithyoulotlater.”

“You best stop this

nonsense right now, Jaelyn.”Greta blindly groped in herbasket.

Her questing hand closedaroundthetailofthewalleye.

There was a muffledcheer from the crowd,mingledwiththesubtlerclinkofcoinsexchanginghands.

Greta swung. The fish

landed with a wet thumpagainstJaelyn’shead.Hehadjustenoughtimetostraightenup, wide-eyed in shock,before the next blow rockedhim again. Greta punctuatedeachwordwithanotherswingofthefish.

“You! Leave. Them.Girls.Alone!Youhearme?”

Thebellyofthefishburstopen from the force ofGreta’sfinalblow,showeringJaelynwithroeandfishguts.

The crowd scattered alittlefartheraway.

“Leave me alone, younutter.”Jaelynfled,crying.

The sun caught theiridescent flecks of walleye

fish scales and stinking roethatclungtohisfaceandhair.The crowd melted awaybefore Greta turned herenergy, andbatteredwalleye,tothem.

“You girls all right,then?” Greta asked as shereturnedthefish,significantlyworse for the wear, to her

wickershoppingbasket.“Yeah,” Talitha said.

“CanIgoplay?Only,Bobbyaskedme.”Shemotionedtoalittleboywhowaswavingatherfromadistance.

“Right. Go on, then,”Gretasaid.

“Before I go, I have asecret to tell you,” Talitha

saidtoAnya.Anya bent her head, so

her ears reached the littlegirl’slips.

“Erin told me she likesSaul,”Talithasaid.

Greta kept silent, thefaintest shadow of a smilehovering around the cornersof her pursed lips. Anya

raisedhereyebrows.“I mean like, like,”

Talithasaid,hereyesroundedinto saucers. “Ask him whathethinksofher,okay?”

“Okay,”Anyasaid.“Ithinkhelikeshertoo.”

Talitha patted Anya’s hand.“Sorry it’s not you.Men canbesodifficult.”

“It’s okay,” Anya said, areassuringsmileonherface.

Talitha frowned. “Youdon’t care if he likes her?”She paused amoment beforegasping. “So you like, likeJon?Oooh!”

She skipped away beforeAnyahadtimetoclarify.

“She’s going to be a

terror,thatone,”Gretasaid.“But I wasn’t…I didn’t

mean…I’mnot…”“AllsIcansayisthatJon

boy is likekin.Youbest notbreak his heart.Or I’ll breakyour face.”Greta gaveAnyaa meaningful look. Sheturned, and then noddedtowards the street. “Speak of

thedevil.”The raven turned and

Anya saw the boysapproachingfromadistance.

“I’d best leave you to it,then,” Greta said, walkingaway.

“Anya,areyouallright?”Jonsaid.

“Yes.”

“Didyouhavefun?”Saulsaid

‘Oooh,yes.Definitely.”Arm-in-arm, the three

friendscaughtupwithGreta,and talked her into showingthemtherestofthetown.

CHAPTERELEVENANYAALMOSTLOSESIT

“I don’t understand why

we’re even debating this.”Geoff’s gentle baritonesounded strangely flatthrough the closed mudroomdoor.

Jon placed his forefinger

to his lips. Nodding, Saulcrouched and listened at thecrack under the door. Anyastood behind the boys, herarms laden with eggsgathered from the chickencoopinthebackyard.

Grammy Greta hadpromised to bake a cake forthem.

Jon pressed his eyeagainst the keyhole. A smallmouse emerged from a holein the wall. The mousescurried up the raftersundetected and then stoodperfectly still, as thoughstudying the kitchen. Jonsurveyedthegrumps,arrayedaround the kitchen table.

Grampa Naeem, his faceuncharacteristically solemn,satinachairinthecorner.

“We’vealldone thedeedbefore,”Geoffsaid.

“But you’ve seen howthey are with her.” Karintwisted the fine linenhandkerchief in her handsinto tight knots. “They’re

friends. The boys will bedevastated.”

Arti rubbed her forehead,her eyes shut. “They’re ofWatcher blood, and they’vehad some Watcher training.They’ll manage.” Shesounded like she was tryingtoconvinceherself.

“The regulations are

crystal clear on this,” Geoffsaid,lookingaway.

Logansnorted.“Hangtheregulations. That little girlrisked her skin to save ours.And this is how we repayher? By taking away herlife?”

Jon glanced at Saul inalarm. Saul frowned as he

triedtogethisearevencloserto the gap. He ignored thesound of eggs smashing onthe stone mudroom floorbehindhim.

“She could have walkedaway,” Logan said. “If shewas like any other cyrionwe’ve ever heard about, shewouldhave.Onlywe’dnever

knowforsure,becausewe’vekilledthemall!”Hepacedthekitchen floor, his handsclaspedtightbehindhisback.“We do not blindly followregulations.We’reWatchers.We’re supposed to use ourjudgmenttodowhatisright.”

“Iknow!”Geoffslammedthekitchentablewithhisfist.

“My son’s in this too. Don’tyou think I care how hewould look at me? If hewouldlookatme,”hesaidina much softer voice. Heshook his head. “But theregulations are clear. Thereasonisalsoclear.Wecan’triskherlosinghertemperandblowing up a landmass, like

theothercyriondid.Therisksaretoogreat.”

Loganpickedup a small,slender volume and threw iton the kitchen table. “Ithappened once! Over athousand years ago. Theregulationsneedchanging.”

“Fine. I agree. But untilthe changes take effect,”

Geoff said, his forefingerstabbing the book in front ofhim,“wefollowourordersasstated.”

“Wait, if we’re,” Artisaid, her lips in a mockingcurl, “removing peoplebecause of what they mightdo,whystopatcyrions?Whynot remove children who

could‘potentially’growuptobeproblematic?”

“Because she is not aperson,” Geoff said, finallylosing his patience. “She’snot even human. She’s acyrion. The regulationsclearly state that all cyrionsare to be exterminated. Nextyou’ll suggest we actually

listentothatlow-castegoblintheWatcherKnights broughtintheotherday.”

“But she hasn’t doneanythingwrong,”Karin said.Her voice was low and soft,but insistent. “All she’s donetellsmeshe’sagood-heartedchild.”

Geoffthrewhisheadback

in frustration. “For the lasttime,she’snotachild.Sheisnothing likeourboys,oranyother human children inexistence. She is a cyrion.And,forallweknow,theyallstart out seeming like ‘good-hearted’ children. Until theylose control and destroyeverything in sight. I’dmuch

rather have a resentful sonthan a dead son, wouldn’tyou?”Geoff turned toLoganand Arti. “Wouldn’tanyone?”

The door swung open.Jon, Saul and Anya walkedinto the kitchen. The adultsfellsilent.

A speculative expression

crossedNaeem’sface.“Saul.” Karin paled.

“How much of that did youhear?”

“We heard enough,” Jonsaid, his cool tone maskinghisprofoundsenseofbetrayalanddisbelief.

“Son, we have to followtheregula—”

Saul pinned his father inplacewithablazingglare.

“How many?” Anyaasked.

The adults exchanged aglanceinthedeadsilencethatfollowed.

“Two,” Arti said. “In thelast twenty years, we cameacrosstwo.”

A sneer crossed Anya’sface. “You mean you’vekilledtwo.”

Arti turned away,wincing.

“Was that why youbrought me here? So youcould,” Anya lowered herhead, a derisive smile on herlips,“dealwithme?”

“No,” Karin said. “Youwerehurt.Wewantedyoutorest a while. When you’rebetter, we’d escort you backtotheforest.”

Anyasnortedindisbelief.“What’sthatsupposedtobe?Some kind of code? NobleWatchersdon’thurtwoundedanimals?” She looked at

Karin,bitternessoneverylineofherface.“And thenwouldyouhaveletmego?”

Karin fell silent andducked her head, biting herlip. She continued twistingthehandkerchiefinherlap.

Anya shook her head.“No, you wouldn’t. Youwould’ve sent your sons

elsewhere and then youwould’ve hunted me downand killed me.” She pausedandliftedasardoniceyebrow.“Wouldn’tyou?”

Silence.There was a tense

stillnessinAnya’sbody.Likea spring, coiled too tight andabouttosnap.“Doyouknow

howlonelyIwas?Doanyofyouhaveanyidea?”

A low, barely audiblerumblebrokethesilence.

Her hands, clenched intowhite-knuckled fists heldstiffly at her side, betrayedAnya’s expressionless faceand calm, flat voice. “Doyou?Thinking I am the only

oneofmykind?”The rumbling grew

louder.Thedaygrewdarker.She bowed her head,

silvered eyes closing,clenched fists blossominginto claws with scales ofiridescentgreen.“SoIamallalonebecauseofyou.”

Therewasasuddencrash

of breaking glass. A raventhuddedon thekitchen table.Brokenbits ofglass clung toitsbatteredbody,catchingthedying light. The raven wasstill alive, but only just. Therumbling grew louder, andtheday,darkerstill.

“Ifyousparednoneofmykind, why should I spare

yours?”The rumbling was

deafening. Jon glanced outthe broken kitchen windowand saw something coveringthesun.Notacloud,exactly.Itdidnotmovelikeacloud.Itmovedlikesomethingalive.

Anditwasgettingcloser.“That’s quite enough,

young lady,” Naeem got upfrom his chair. “Kindlyrefrainfromvandalizingmoreofmyprivateproperty.”

“Huh?” Jon turned to hisgrandfather,confused.

Naeem spared a kindglance to Jon before turningback to Anya. “I mean, stopbreakingmystuff.”

“Anya,” Jon said. “He’shurt. Your raven friend.That’shim, right?”Heshookher arm, ignoring themonstrous claws, hoping tobreak that awful, alienconcentration on her face.“You told me and Saul thatyou don’t hurt friends. Backintheforest.Remember?You

need to stop and take him tothe doctor. Anya, he’s hurtreallybad.”

“Andhewon’tbethelast,will he?”Naeem said. “Yourlittle friend Talitha is outthere.SoisGreta.”

“Grammy Greta, Anya,”Saul was now shaking herotherarm.“Shepromisedyou

cakeifwegethersomeeggsfromthecoop.Andwegot…theeggs…”

There was an abruptpause. Jon followed Saul’sgaze and saw the mess ofbrokenshellsandyolkonthemudroom floor. They bothstared at the mess for amoment longer before Saul

shookhishead.“Wecangetmore.When

you toldheryouhaven’thadcake in years, she said she’dmake you a special onetonight.Remember?”

“Didyoumeanwhat youtold them in the forest?”NaeemsaidtoAnya.

“Yes.”Herfaceandvoice

hadaneerievacancy.The rumbling reached a

crescendo. Jon releasedAnya’s arm with a cry andinstinctively clapped hishands over his ears, to blockout the sound. To block outthepain.Hefelltohisknees.

“Liar!”Naeemsnapped.Anya turned to him, the

stunned expression of awhippedchildonherface.

Naeem gestured at thedying raven on the kitchentable and at the boys. “Lookat those you call yourfriends.”

Anya gasped. Theominous rumbling abruptlyceased.The sun shoneagain.

There were audible sighs ofrelief.

Geoff cleared his throat.“The regulationsclearly state—”

“Chapter seven, sectionfourteen,” Naeem said, darkeyes flashing. “‘In the eventWatchers fail to come to aconsensus, a temporary

arrangementmustbemadetomaintain the status quo untilsuchatimesaidconsensusisreached’. Page 311, justbelowthemustardstain.”

“Grampa?” Jon said, afrownonhisface.

“Yes,Jon?”“Huh?”Anya stared at the raven,

stunned. All the tensionseemedtohaveflowedoutofher frame. “I think it meansuntiltheyallagreeonwhattodo, they can’t do anything.”Shewalked toward the table,towardthedyingraven,handsoutstretched.

Humanhands.“Concisely put, young

lady,”Naeemsaid.“Grampa, stop it.” Jon

slowlygotupfromthefloor.“Butwecan’t just lether

go either,” Logan said,darting a glance at the otherWatchers. “She almostleveledthewholetown.”

“May I suggest—”Naeem started. Jon glowered

at him. Naeem cleared histhroat and tried again. “Howabout this? Young lady, doyoukeepyourpromises?”

Anya nodded, silveredeyes glued on the woundedraven.

“So how about wepromise not to harm you aslong as you promise us two

things? One, you will onlyuse your powers whennecessary.Two,youmustnotwillinglyleavethecity.”

“Yes. Anything.” Sheheld the raven with gentlehands.

Humanhands.She looked up atNaeem,

pleading. “Now can we

pleasegethimtoadoctor?”Ignoring her, Naeem

turned to the Watchers “Isthis acceptable to you?” Asad smile lurked on hisbearded lips as he collectedtheWatchers’assent.

HenoddedtoKarin.“Let me see.” Karin

hurried to her side and

examined the raven. “I’msorry lass, it’s too late. Youstill have a little time to saygoodbye.”

“Istilloweyouabutton.”She sank down to the floor,cradling the dying raven toherchest,andwept.

CHAPTERTWELVETHESPAT

The following day, Jon

stoodbesideAnyabythelowwallinthebackyard,beforeasmall grave shaded by apigeon berry bush. Saulstood, fidgeting,onherother

side.“I’msorry.”Tearsslipped

down Anya’s face. “MothersaidIhad to takecareofmyfriends.AndIdidn’ttakecareofyou.”

The little mouse on hershouldergaveasoftsqueak.

Thegrave,unmarkedbyaheadstone but profusely

decorated with buttons of allcolors, shapes and sizes,wassituatedas farawayfromthechicken coop as possible.Anya did not want thechickensdefilingher friend’sfinal resting place. She saidthis was the least she coulddo.

“Stop beating yourself

up,” Jon said. “In his lastmoments, he had no doubtyoulovedhim.”

“Yeah,” Saul said. “Ifsomeone did the same tomyfamily, I’d be really madtoo.”

“ButIalmostlostcontrol.IfIdid,then—”

Jontightenedhislipsfora

moment. He’d beenwonderingthesamething.Heshook his head. Irrelevant.For now. “But you didn’t.Youstayed incontrol.Right,Saul?”

Saul nodded. “I’m notsureIcould.I’dhavebeensomad…”

Shoulders hunched, she

duckedherheadandwrappedherarmsaroundherself.“But—”

Jonshookhishead.“Youcould have, but you didn’t.You spent his last momentsholding him. I’m sure thatmeantalot.”

Sheliftedherheadtofacethem. “Does this mean you

still want to be my friends?Evenafter…”

“Geez, Anya,” Saul gaveher a shoulder bump. “Ithought you were smart.We’rehere,aren’twe?”

“And we’ll always be.”Jonputhishandonherbonyshoulders.

“D-uh.” Saul rolled his

eyes.“Thank you.” Anya

smiledanddrewbothofthemcloseinanimpulsivehug.

There was a discreetcoughfrombehind.“SoGretacame through with thebuttons,”Naeemsaid.

“Yes,Grampa,” Jon said.“Shesaidsheemptiedouther

entire sewing box. And shepromised to plant flowerslater.”

“That’s good,” Naeemsaid. “I only wanted to paymyrespectsandaskyouwhatyour plans are for the rest oftheday.”

“I don’t think we haveanythingplanned,”Saulsaid.

Jon and Anya noddedtheirconfirmation.

“Well,a little later today,I thought thatwecouldstrolldown to the city lockup andpay the goblin a visit. He’sbeen saying some ratherinteresting things. Pity no…er…grumps was it?” Naeemwinked. “Pity no grumps

botheredtolisten.”Hepausedforamoment,hislipspursed,and a thoughtful look on hisface. “For what it’s worth, Idon’tthinkthelittlefellowislying.”

“Why would we—” Jonstarted when Saul shushedhim.

“Yes,we’dbedelighted,”

Anyasaid.“You know, that copy of

Watchermanualisstillonthekitchentable.Wouldyouliketo take a look before Gretaputsitaway?”

“Yes. Yes, we would,”Saul said, his hands clampedonJon’smouth.

“Nuh—mmmff—” Jon

glaredatSaul.Naeem nodded, his eyes

on the ground. “May Isuggest you pay particularattention to chapter two,sections eight to ten?” Hetugged at his beard. “Pageeighty-six, I believe. Iapologize for the lack ofhandymustardstains.”

Naeembent and placed abrightredbuttonintheshapeof a hexagon on the raven’sgrave.

“Well,” he said as he gotup. “The dictionary is on thesecond shelf, the third bookfrom the left in my study,whereIwillbetakingashortnap.” Naeem yawned and

stretched.“Trynottotaketoolongwithit.Also,Greta’llbequite upset if you’re late fordinner.Andbesuretoseemebeforeyoudecide…whateveryou’lldecide,won’tyou?”

Naeem strolled back tothe house, waving themgoodbye.

“What was all that

about?”“Jon,” Saul said in a

roughvoice.“Iswearit’slikeyou switch your brain offwhenyourGrampa’saround!He’sfiguredawayoutforus.ForAnya.Hewantsus todosomething.”

“Well,whydidn’the justtellus?”Jonasked.

“ ‘Cause he’s aWatcher.He probably can’t orsomething,”Saulsaid.

Jon’s head tilted to theside with genuinepuzzlement. “A way out ofwhat?”

Saul’sfaceturnedabrightcherry red. “Youwere reallyoutof it,weren’t you?Don’t

you remember the terms?God knows Grampa Naeemkept it simple. Do I reallyhavetospellitoutforyou?”

“Please don’t fight,”Anya said, her voice waslevel, but her brows drewtogetherinafuriousscowl.

“I don’twant to. But it’slike he’s being purposely

clueless!” Saul said toAnya,his voice rising in fury. “It’slikeheexpectsthegrumpstodoandknoweverything.Likethey can do no wrong. Likehe can’t be bothered to eventrythinkingonhisownwhenhe’saroundthem.”

“Don’t call me clueless,”Jon said, as his own face

warmed. “I really don’tunderstandwhat the problemis. The grumps can’t doanything, and Anya can staywith us for as long as shewantsto.”

“Precisely my point.”Saul whirled around until hewas nose-to-nose with Jon.“The grumps can’t do

anything only for as long asthey can’t agree onsomething. You know that’sonly a matter of time.Grampa Naeem can slowthem down, but for howlong?He’sold.Hemightkeeloveranysecond.”

“Don’tyousaythataboutmyGrampa!”

“Well, it’s true. He’sreally old. And Anya can’tstay for as longas shewants—”

“Please,stop,”Anyasaid.Herbreathinggrewragged.

“Shehastostay.Whethershe wants to or not.” Saulpoked Jon’s chest “Yourproblem is you think Anya’s

no different from…fromthosechickens!”

“Chickens?” Jon shovedhisfriendaway,sendingSaulstumbling. “What? You’recrazy!”

“No, you’re stupid,”Saul’sfaceturnedpurpleandcords of muscle stood outfrom the sides of his neck.

“You’ve overtaken clueless,sped all the way past dumb,and are firmly in the land ofstupid. Anya’s not a pet.She’saperson.Likeyouandme. She doesn’t deservethis!”

Anya gave a blood-curdlinggrowlandthentiltedher head up and let out a

deafeningscreamatthetopofherlungs.

HeandSaulwerestartledintocompletesilence.

“You,”sheturnedtoSaul.“Icanspeak formyself.Andyou,” shewhirled to Jon,hereyes narrowing. “I shouldsmackyouupsidethehead.”

Shepausedforamoment.

“What did Mother say youhumans do…oh, yes,” sheturned back to the stunnedboys. “Now, both of youshake hands and say you’resorry.Imeanit.Now.”

JonlookedatSaul,thenatAnya. He quickly shookSaul’s hand, muttering hisapology.

“Nowhug,”Anyasaid.“Anya,boysdon’thug—”

Saulsaid.“Idon’tcare!”Anyasaid,

stamping her foot. “You twohug, right now!” Her voicewasdeeper,rougher.

Jon eyed her clenchedfists, and gingerly huggedSaul.

“Pro-per-ly,” Anya saidthroughclenchedteeth.

Theboyshuggedquickly,andthendrewapart,twiceasfast.

“Nowyou,”Anyasaid toSaul“Comewithme,get thedictionary, andwe’ll get thatmanualsorted.Andyou,”shewhirledtofaceJon.

Jonrearedback.“Stay here until you’ve

figured out, on your own,whyIneedtodothis.”

With that, she turned herback on them and stompedtowardthehouse.

HeandSaul stood rootedtotheground,mouthsagape.

About halfway back to

the house, Anya stopped.“Are you coming, or am Idoingthisonmyown?”Saulscurriedtoherside.Jonstoodalone at the raven’sgraveside, his mouth stillhangingopen.

**** “I think they’ve got it

sortedout,”Naeemsaid.

Greta grunted. “They’reall good ‘uns, so I don’t seehow they can’t. Precociousthey are, like we was.” Shenudged Naeem with herelbow. They had beenwatching the exchange fromthekitchenwindow.

“You’ve got their packsready,then?”

“‘CourseIdid.Calledme‘Grammy’didn’tthey,”Gretasaid,asmileonherpuckeredface. “Best make ourselvesscarce. They’re coming thisway.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEENTHELOOPHOLE

Jon walked into the pink

bedroom, now Anya’s, andfound his friends bent overboth the slender Watchermanual and a heavy, leather-boundtome.

“I’m sorry,” Jon said toAnya. “You’re not achicken.”

“I’msorrytoo,”Saulsaidto Jon. “I shouldn’t havecalledyouthosenames.

JonturnedtoSaul.“AndIshouldn’t have acted like adrooling,blitheringidiot.”Hegrinned. “So I guess we’re

even?”The mouse sitting on

Anya’s shoulder scamperedand stuck its nose in his ear,tickling him. Jon giggled.Duty discharged, the mousejumpedoffandreturnedtoitspost.

“I’msogladyou’reback,Jon,”Saulsaid.“Thisthingis

complicated.”“What have we got so

far?”Jonsaid.He settled down on the

floor,nestledbetweenhistwofriends.

“Listen to this beast.”Saulreadaloud.

“The applicant/s mustundertake and complete a

missiondeemedimpossiblebysenior Watchers, with nointerference from anyWatcher whatsoever. SeniorWatchers are limited to astrictly supervisory role. AnyassistancerenderedbyseniorWatcherswill,inturn,rendersaid application null andvoid.”

“Thisisonlythefirstbit,”Saulsaid.

Anya canted her head tothe side. “We think itmeanswe need to do somethingreallyhard,withnohelpfromthegrumps.”

“And this next bit,” Saulsaid.Heclearedhisthroat.

“The completion of the

mission must prove beyondany doubt the applicant/sposses/es the high moralcaliber befitting theWatchers.”

“Finallythelastbit,”Saulsaid,rollinghiseyes.

“Upon the satisfactorycompletion of said mission,theapplicant/sareeligibleto

hold the position/s ofApprentice Watchers.Apprentice Watchers possessall the rights, privileges, andobligations of FullWatchers.”

“What does all this evenmean?”Jonasked.

Anya tapped thedictionarywithherknuckle,a

meaningful look on her face.The trio spent the next fewminutes flipping through thetome and debatingwhat theythought the words meant,before coming to anagreement.

“Okay, so this means,”Jon said, ticking the pointsoff with his fingers. “We

need to do something good,which is also really hard,withoutanyhelp,right?”

Saul flipped through themanual. “I think the wordtheyusedis‘impossible’.”

“But does the last bitmean I have to become aWatcher to be free? I don’twant to be forced to hurt

other people just becausethey’redifferent.”

“So argue about it,” Jonsaid.“Likethegrumpsdid.”

“Yeah,”Saulsaid.“We’lljoin too. Jon and me. Theycan’t do anything if we dothat.Bytheirownrules.”

“Until they change it.”Anya bit her lower lip, her

face,bitter.“We’llthinkofsomething

elsebythen,”Jonsaid.“I think the goblin must

beournextstep,”Anyasaid.“What do we do? We

break him out? We…‘takecare’ of him?” Saul said,throwingoutrandomideas.

“No, too easy,” Jon said,

shakinghishead.“Ithinkweneed to talk to him to figureout exactly what we need todo.”

“Rightthen,”Saulsaidashe got up from the floor.“Let’s go see GrampaNaeem.”

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

G’HANJLJon trailed behind Anya

andNaeemastheymadetheirwaythroughLinwood.

“What’s that, GrampaNaeem?” Anya gestured toNaeem’sliver-spottedhand.

Naeem held a fineporcelain platter, coveredwithequallyfinewhitelinen.Theyweremaking theirwayto the city lock-up. The tinydun-furredmousepeekedoutfrom under her collar,twitchingitsnoseincuriosity.

“Greta made cookies forthe guard,” Naeem said. “I

think you’ve met him. HisnameisJaelyn.”

“Huh,”Anyasaid,jerkingherheadback.“Ithoughtshedidn’t like him. Is that whythey stink like pigeonberries?” She wrinkled herbutton nose. “I noticed thebushinthebackyard.”

Naeemblithely continued

walking.“I don’t smell anything

bad.”Sauldartedforwardandsniffed at the platter. “Thecookies smell good. Theylook good too. Can I havesome?”

“No,” Jon andAnya saidinunison.

“Grammy Greta is being

nice. To someone Anya saidshe does not like,” Jon said,giving Saul a meaningfullook.

“She said somethingaboutsendingthembywayofapology,” Naeem said underhisbreath.

“Okay, that settles thequestion,”Saulsaid,awistful

expression on his face.“There’sdefinitelysomethingwrongwiththem.”

“Pigeonberries canmakeyou sick.” Anya nodded attherowofouthousesstandingnexttotheguardhouse.

“DoesJaelynknow?”Jonbattled his conscience. Hisconscience won a partial

victory. “Should we warnhim? How sick would thosecookies make him, exactly?Onascaleofonetoten?”

“Eleven,” Anya said, herface thunderous. “Jaelyn’snot a nice person. I vote nottotellhim.”

“Here we are,” Naeemsaid in a cheerful, singsong

voice as he pulled open thedoor.His voice dropped to awhisper. “Don’t take toolong.”

They entered the small,shabby guardhouse adjoiningthe lock-up and ran intoJaelyn. His face still boretraces of his most recentencounterwithGreta,aswell

as a lingering scent of fish.Naeem motioned the trio togo on ahead while he beganto engage Jaelyn. Jon heardhisGrandpa’s soothing voicegreet him and then makegentle apologies, while heand his best friends madetheirway to theannexwherethecellswerelocated.

“Amsry! Amsry!” thegoblinsaidinahigh,squeakyvoice.

“That’shim.” Joncockedhis head as he frowned andpeered at the small, shabbycreatureclutching thebarsofhis cell with small, grubbyhands.“Ithink?”

The little mouse jumped

up from under Anya’s collartohershoulder,togetabetterview.

This goblin was shorterand much thinner than thegoblins they previouslyencountered.Oneofhisfronttuskswasbroken.Underneaththedirt andgrime, Jon couldmake out a multitude of

scratches and bruises. Thegoblin did not seem capableofsavagingaguineapig.

“I know he’s just agoblin,” Anya’s voicesoftenedwithpity.“ButthoseKnightsweren’t very kind tohim,werethey?”

ThegoblinsawAnyaandgasped. He then fell to his

knees and stretched his armsout through the bars,pleading.

“TheMataPerak. Amsry.Amsry,MataPerak,”hesaid.

“Amsry? Amnesty?” Jonsaid,turningtoSaul.

“Emissary?” Saul said,turningtoJon.

“Yes.” The goblin

nodded, his desperation,obvious. “MataPerak,Amsry.”

“MataPerak.”Saulturnedto Anya. “The goblin officercalledyouthesamething.Hedidn’t talk like this onethough.”

Ptuh! The goblin spat.“Him D’hibuk. Him officer.

Him ptuh,” the goblin spatagain.

Jon raised his eyebrows.“I guess they don’t getalong.”

“Him, officer. HimD’hibuk.Me,G’hanjl.Menoofficer,” G’hanjl said, apleading expression inyellowed eyes. “You is big

fatWatchers, yes? You is tobe with theMataPerak. Youis to be goodings, yes? Fat,strongWatchersyouis,yes?”G’hanjlsaid.

“We’re not Watchers,G’hanjl. And we’re not fat,”Saulsaid.

“Not Watchers?” G’hanjlsounded disappointed. “But

youissofatwithstrongness.And you is withMataPerak.Maybe you still to behelpings G’hanjl,” G’hanjlsaid, a look of grimdetermination on his face.“G’hanjl friends and familytobeverymuchnothappy,tobeverymuchhunger.Theyisto be dying. Please,

MataPerak. Please to behelpings G’hanjl friends andfamily. Please, to be savingthem.”

“Who’s hurting them,G’hanjl?”Anyasaid.

“D’hibuk friends andfamily ptuh to be making usnothappy.G’hanjliswantingG’hanjl friendsandfamily to

be comings here. This placeis to be much fatness, mucheatings,muchhappy,yes?”

“Still not getting the fatreference,”Saulsaid.

Anya pursed her lips. “Ithink ‘fatness’means ‘plentyof’?”

“Yes. But is not to beimp…improt…” G’hanjl lost

patience with himself.“G’hanjl is to be dumb.G’hanjl is to be bad Amsry.Bad, bad, bad,” he said,hittinghimselfonthehead.

“No, stop it,” Saul said.“You’re doing fine.” Hegrabbed both G’hanjl’sscrawny arms through thebars.“Howcanwehelp?”

“Help getG’hanjl friendsand family here.” Tearsleaked from his yellow eyes.“Tobegettingthemtowherethey is no longer to behurtingsbyofficers.Please?”

Jonnoticedthegoblindidnotspitthattime.

“But aren’t your officersgoblinstoo?”Jonasked.

“Them is to be officers.We isnot tobe.Them isnottobeus.Soon, them is tobeeatingsus,maybe.Thegoblinhomeland is not to be full offatness, like here. Homelandisnottobemucheatings.”

“Is thatwhyyoutookthevillagers?Toeatthem?”Saulasked, stepping back from

G’hanjl’scellinhorror.“G’hanjl is not to be

knowings. G’hanjl is to bestupid. To be scaredings allthetime.AndG’hanjlistobemuch, much tired-ed ofthings.Themofficersistobesayings to be takingsG’hanjl’s sister.” G’hanjlclawedathisface.

“G’hanjl, you’re notstupid,” Anya said. “You’reverybravetocomehere.”

“We’ll help you.” Saulturned to his friends. “Well,wehaveto.They’replanningtoeathissister!”

“Noone’sarguing,”Anyasaid.“ButwehavetogethimpastJaelyn.”Shepausedfora

moment,andthenadelightedsmile dawned on her face.“Thepigeonberries…”

“And the Slayer can getthelockonthecelldoor,”Jonsaid.

“But,”Saulsaid,“howdoweget fromhereall thewayto the Northern wastes?Undetected?”

“G’hanjl knows. G’hanjlknows way. Secret way. Butistobeneedingskey.”

“Can this open it?” JonshowedG’hanjltheSlayer.

G’hanjl took the daggerand peered closely at it,twisting theweapon thiswayand that in the dim cell. Heeven spat on it, andwatched

his spittle trail its slimywaydown to the tip of the blade.G’hanjl then shook his headin sadness, and returned thebladetoJon.

“This is to be magicdagger, yes. But, to besaddings, blade is to beopenings only simple locks.Secretway is to be needings

magickey.”“Well,”Jonsaid.“What’s

the key?Perhapswe can askGrampa.Orresearchitinthestudy.”

“Magickeyistobestone.Istobespecialstone.”

“Special how?” Saulasked. “I mean, can youdescribeit?”Hetightenedhis

grip on G’hanjl’s arms, incase the goblin decided topunishhimselffurther.

“Is to be smallings. Is tobe darking green, and is tohave…to have…” G’hanjl’sbreathing grew harsh withfrustration at his owninabilitytofindthewords.

“G’hanjl,” Anya said.

“Breathe. It’s okay. Takeyourtime.”

She modeled deep, slowbreathing for the agitatedgoblin. G’hanjl tried toimitate Anya. Little by little,hegraduallygrewcalmer.

“Now, try again. It’s asmall, green stone, and…?”Anyaprompted.

“Is to be having littlebloodinit.”

“Realblood?”Saulasked,horrified.

AnyasmackedSaul’sarmas G’hanjl started to becomeagitatedagain.

“Shh….” She glared at ashame-faced Saul.“Breathe…Okay.” She

noddedatthebatteredgoblin.“Tryagain.”

“Is to be lookings like tobehavinglittlebloodinside.”

“So it looks like it has alittlebloodinit,”Jonsaid.

“Yes.Please,youistobehelping?”

“Yes,G’hanjl.We’llhelpyou,”Anyasaid.

She looked to them forconfirmation. He and Saulaffirmed her statementwithouthesitation.

“Children!Ready togo?”Naeem called from theguardhouse.

“Coming, Grampa,” Jonsaid.“G’hanjl,wehavetogonow. But we will be back.

Tonight.”He turned to his two

friends. They nodded theiragreement.

“The sooner the better,”Anyasaid.“There’snotellinghow long the grumps’deadlockwilllast.”

Jon turned back to thegoblin “No more hurting

yourself,understand?Wewillbe back. We’ll get you outtonight.”

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

THEKIDNAPPINGDinnerwas a sumptuous,

but subdued, affair. Thediners mostly picked at theirmeal in silence. The grumpsseemedguilt-ridden,reluctantto meet the children’s eyes.

The children were, at leastinitially, too afraid of givingthemselves away to fullyrelaxandenjoythemeal.

Greta took their reactionto her culinary efforts ratherpoorly. First, she askedpointed questions about howthey found the food. Sheescalated to grumbling about

how thin they all were andhow they really should eatmore.Thegrumpsexchangeddiscreet, horrified glances ateachotherwhenGretafinallythreatenedtogetherrope,tiethem down, and then spoon-feedeveryoneat the tablebyforce. She settled back intoherchair,apparentlysatisfied,

whenthegrumpsbegantoeatfaster.

After a dessert of poundcakeservedwithfreshcreamand a medley of maceratedsummer berries, the childrenhelped Greta clean up. Thegrumps retreated to theirbedrooms upstairscomplaining,whensafelyout

ofGreta’s earshot, of havingeaten too much. After Gretadeclared her satisfaction attheir efforts, the trio madetheirwayoutof the spaciouskitchen towards Naeem’sstudy.

“Are you sure she didn’tput pigeon berries in thecake?”Saulasked.

ThedunmouseonAnya’sshoulder gave a soft squeakas she scratched its ears.“Yes, I’m sure,” Anya said,rollinghereyes.

Jon rubbed his belly.“Because, you know, mytummy feels kind of funnytoo.”

“Possiblybecauseyouate

six helpings of everythingbetween the two of you,”Anya said, a note of disgustinhervoice.

“I’m also feeling kind ofsleepy.”

“Metoo,”Jonsaid.Anya opened the study

door.“Well,Idoubtwehavetimeforanap.”

Naeemrose fromhis softleather armchair, hiscustomary smile lurking onhis bearded face. “Ah,children.”

“Grampa,we—”Naeem broke eye contact

andglancedattheceiling.Jon nodded. The grumps

areupstairs.

Naeem’s smile widenedasherubbedhisleftearlobe.

And they might belistening.

Naeempushedhisreadingglassesuphisnose.“Didyouallgetenoughtoeat?”

“Yes,GrampaNaeem,wedid,”Anya said. “Thank youforasking.”

Saul yawned. “Yeah, Ithink I ate toomuch. Now Iwanttosleep.”

“Before you turn in,”Naeem said, “I’d like youthink about the terms of theagreement you madeyesterday. Breaking apromise to the Watchers isserious business.” He looked

at the three of them, in turn,over the reading glassesperched on his nose. “I needto impress upon you threethattheconsequencesofyou,Anya, willingly leaving thecitylimitsaredire.”

He walked towards anornate wooden bureaustanding next to the open

studywindow.“NowJon,Ihaveanearly

Nameday present for you.”Naeem pulled open a drawerand took out a small box.“Somethingwhichusedtobemine in fact.” He took out astone pendant hanging on aslender platinum snake chainand placed it around Jon’s

neck.“What is this, Grampa?”

Jon cocked his head andexamined the pendant. Nobiggerthanhisthumbnail,thependant was heavy for itssize. Jon peered closer at thegem. Itwasanopaque,mossgreen stone, shaped like ateardrop and stippled with

streaksofcrimson.“It’s a bloodstone

pendant. Your grandmotherhadthematchingstone,setinaring.Whenthetimecomes,you can give yourgrandmother’s ring, if youwant,toyourwife.”

“Grampa…” Jon’s faceflushed as he squirmed in

embarrassment.SaulandAnyasnickered.“Iwantyoutopromiseto

keep this on you. Especiallyif you think you’ll findyourself…out of our reach.This is important, Jon.Promiseme.”

“Ipromise,Grampa.”“Iforwhenyouwantmy

help, I need you to hold thestone like so,” Naeem heldthe bloodstone with thethumb and forefinger of hisright hand. “Then you say:‘Blood to blood, I need you.Bloodfromblood,Icallyou.’Canyourememberthat?”

“And you’ll come,Grampa?”

“Only if you say thephrase right.” Jon heard anodd note in his voice. Jonjerked his head up, to studyGrampa Naeem’s face. Hesaw a strange expression hecould not quite place inGrampa Naeem’s eyes. Hewas about to ask hisgrandfather about it when

Naeemturnedaway.“As for the two of you.”

Naeem said to Saul andAnya, “The spell onlyworksif Jon knows the words. Somakesureheremembers.”

“Wewill,”Anyasaid.“Well, good night,

children.” Naeem gave allthree of them a tight hug,

whichlastedalittlebitlongerthanusual.

The trio made their wayto Anya’s bedroom upstairs.Jonheardthegrumpssnoringthrough theirclosedbedroomdoors, and wondered if thesnoresweregenuine.Perhapsthe grumps hadn’t beeneavesdropping after all. Jon

closed the door behind himwith a gentle snick. He thensat on the floor, facing hisfriends.

“So we wait?” Saulstretchedandyawned.

“Yes,”Jonsaid.Saul reached back to

Anya’s bed and snagged afeather pillow. “So we do

havetimeforanap?”Jonthoughtforamoment.

“No.”He watched Saul cuddle

Anya’s pillow, a pout on hisfriend’s face. “There issomething we should do inthemeantime.”

Jon turned to Anya whowasplayingwiththetinydun

mouse on her lap. “We’regoingtoneedsomepaper,inkandaquill.Canyougetthemfrom the study withoutwakingthegrumps?”

She nodded, put themouse on her shoulder, andleft.

“What do you have inmind?” Saul sat up, setting

Anya’spillowtotheside.“Grampa said that Anya

can’t leave willingly. So Ithought we should leave thegrumps a note, telling themthat we forced her to comewithus.”

Saul snorted, shook hishead, and leanedbackonhiselbow, legs outstretched.

“There’s no way they’dbelievethat.”

“So not the point. Thepoint is that the only proofthey’dhaveofwhathappenedisshe’sbeentaken.”

“Taken?” Anya asked asshe re-entered the room. Shewascarryingasheetofpaperand a small pot of ink. The

mouse perched on hershoulder held a grey goosefeatherquillinitsfrontpaws.

“We need to give thegrumpsareasontothinkthatwe kidnapped you.” Jonsmoothed the paper on thewoodenbedroomfloor.

“So his plan,” Saul said,his eyebrow arched, “is to

writethemanote.”“Would they believe

that?”“Maybe not,” Jon said.

“But they’ll want to. Cananyonethinkofanythingelsewecando?”Hestudiedeachofhisfriendsinturn.

Saul and Anya remainedsilent.

“All right. Someone elseneeds to write this, though.My handwriting’s prettyawful.”

Saulsatup,tookthequillfromthemouse,anddippeditinthepotofink.Hebegantowrite, the tip of his tonguepeekingoutfrombetweenhislips.

Dear Grumps andGramps,

“Wait,” Jon said. “Youcan’tcallthemthosenames.”

“I’m not going to spellouteveryone’snames,amI?”Saulsaid,frowning.Thegreygoose feather quill, stillpoisedand ready,dripped fatdrops of black ink from its

sharpened nib onto theparchment. “I’ll run out ofspace.”

“Just keep going,” Anyasaid.

Like your rulebook says,me, Jon and Anya are goingonaqwesttoprovewecanbeWatchers. Grampa Naeemcan tell youwhere it says so

inthebook.“That’s going to get

Grampaintrouble.”“What can they do to

him?” Saul dipped the quillinto the pot for more ink.“Anyway, we never actuallytoldhimwhatwe’regoingtodo. S’not like he can readminds.”

Anya rolled her eyes.“Justgoon.”

We are going to rescueGun-jeel’s familyand friendsfromperpercus

Saulturnedtohisfriends.“How do you spell‘persecution’?”

“Idon’tknow,”Jonsaid.Anya growled. Saul

dartedalookatherface,thenquickly returned to the ink-splatteredparchment.

persekewshen.Wewillbebackassoonaspossible.

Gun-jeelisthegoblin.Love,Saul,JonandAnya.“Done,” Saul said, a

triumphantsmileonhislips.

Jon sighed. “The mostimportantpart?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot.” Saulbent over the parchmentagain.

P/S:WekidnappedAnya.Wehadtofightherabit.

“Oh great. Now we hitgirls?”Jonsaid.

“I said only a bit.” Saul

surveyedaroundAnya’sneat,pinkbedroom.“Ithinkmaybeweshouldmessuptheroom.Tomakeitlooklikewereallyfought.”

“Quietly though,” Anyasaid.“Don’twanttowakeupthegrumps.”

Anya pulled off the lightsummerduvetand left it ina

crumpled heap at the foot ofthe bed. Saul took a smallwooden stool and pulled offoneof its legs.Hewincedatthe sound it made when thewood snapped. Jon threwAnya’s pillows to randomcornersoftheroom.

Saul surveyed the scene,arms akimbo. “I think that’s

messyenough.”“Now, the last part,” Jon

said.Hepickedupthepewtercandleholderandblewoutthecandle. Darkness shroudedthe little pink room. Anyaplacedthestilldampletteronthebarrenbed,denudedofallits covers, where it was suretobefound.Sheweighedthe

parchment down with thecandleholder.

“Anya,” Saul said, hishand on her shoulder,“consideryourselfkidnapped.Now let’s go before theycatchus.”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

THEJAILBREAKThe trio made their way

through the house and downthe stairs. Theywere headedfor the storeroom beside thekitchen, where Jon knew thegrumps stowed their packs,

when he noticed threebackpacks lying on thewooden kitchen table. HegrabbedSaul’s shoulders andmotioned towards them. Jonwalked over to the table andexaminedthepacks.

Theywerebiggerthanthepacks he and Saul usuallycarried. Much bigger. Hemp

ropes were coiled on eachsideandsomekindofanimalfurbundledonthetop.Heputthenewpackonandrealizedthat it was also heavier thanhisoldpack.Muchheavier.

Afterhisfriendsequippedtheir packs, he gave them anod, and then headed for thebackdoor. They tiptoed past

the chicken coop, holdingtheir breaths, so as not towake the roosting hens. Thetriomadeitoutontothestreetundetected. Jon turned thekey and re-locked the sidegate.

It would not do to upsetGreta.

Click

“Jon, what if there’s acurfew?”Saulsaid.

Jon scanned the desertedstreet and surroundinghouses. “I don’t know. Wejusthavetobecarefulandnotgetcaught.”

“So what’s the plan?”Saulasked.

“WebreakG’hanjlout.”

“Andafterthat?”“I don’t know yet.” Jon

heard Saul’s sharp intake ofbreath. “But I’ll think ofsomethingsoon.”

“Jon, hold out yourhands,”Anyasaid.

Puzzled, Jon held out hishand.

“When I said ‘hands’, I

meantbothofthem.”Ablushcreptuphisneck,

and Jon was grateful it wastoodarkforanyonetonotice.Heheldoutbothhishands.Awarm, furry thing scrabbledin his left palm and Anya’ssmallhandrestedinhisright.

“When I’m done, put usin your shirt pocket.

Remember not to squeezeus.”

Jon’s ears popped, liketherewasassuddenchangeinatmospheric pressure whensomething relatively largesuddenly became somethingrelatively small.Anya’spackthumped down on thecobbled city streets. Jon

stepped into the moonlightandpeeredatthemiceonthepalms of his hands inspeechlessamazement.

The two mice wereidentical, from their short,brownish-black fur, to theirblack-tipped tails. They evensat up on their hind legs andcocked their heads at him at

theexactsametime,theexactsame way. The onlydifferencewasthatoneofthemice had a pair of blank,silverydiscsforeyes.Oneofthemwasclearlyblind.

JustlikeAnya.The blind mouse gently

nipped the ball of his thumband squeaked in what Jon

could swear sounded likeimpatience.

“All right, all right,” hesaid. He placed the mice inhis front shirtpocket.He feltboththeirheadspokingoutatthe same time. “Stopwiggling. You’re ticklingme.”

“Jon, come on.” Saul

peeredaroundinpuzzlement.“Hey,where’s--?”

Jongesturedwordlesslyatthemicepokingoutfromthetopofhisshirtpocket.Saul’seyes widened as his jaw fellopen.

“Wait, how…?” Saulfinallymanaged.

Jon shook his head and

shrugged. One of the micesqueaked again. Louder, thistime.

Saul peered at Jon’spocket, forefinger extended.“Okay,Iunderstand.Notimenow. But you’ll explain thislater. Right?” He turnedaway, nodding to himself.“Right. For now, we should

go.Keepup,Jon.”Hedashedoffintothegloomystreets.

Jon sighed, picked upAnya’s pack, and jogged tocatchup.Everyone’s rushingmetonight.

They glided through thesilentcobbledcitystreetslikeshadowsonstillwater,easilyevadingthefewtorch-bearing

guards patrolling the streets.LinwoodCity guards seldomexpect trouble because fewcriminals were stupid orfoolhardy enough to target aknownWatchercity.

The boys hid in theshadows of the dogwoodtrees outside the guardhouseacross from a row of

outhouses. They watched insilence as a gong farmer,pushing his creakingwheelbarrowofvats,stoppedbeside the outhouses. Jongagged from the odor ofhumanity that poured outwhen the gong farmer,whistling, uncovered one ofhis vats. Still whistling, he

wentontoemptythecontentsof each outhouse into theopen vat, highlighting thenew note to an alreadyfragrant city night. Jonconcentrated on taking short,shallow breaths through hismouth until the farmerreplacedthelidofhisvat.

“All done, sirs! Heard

you’ve been ill. Got ‘emstallsniceandcleanforyou.”He trundled off with hiscreaking wheelbarrow, stillwhistling, to the nextcollectionpoint.

Jon decided the air wassafe enough to breathenormally when the lastechoing notes of the gong

farmer’swhistlingdiedinthedesertedstreets.

Just asSaulwas about tomakeadashforthejailhousedoor, Jon gripped hisshoulder.“Wait.”

A few moments later,Jaelyn came hurtling out ofthe guardhouse into an openouthouse. He was followed

byanotherguardwhorushed,retching, into the otherouthouse.

“Wot was that you fedme, you rotter?” the otherguard shouted through theclosedouthousedoorbetweenboutsofretching.

“You took ‘em yourself,Eddie! Them was my cook

—” Jaelyn interruptedhimself with a loud, liquidgurk.

Thank you, GrammyGreta.

“Now,”Jonsaid.Theydashedacrosstothe

outhouses and slid the steelboltsshut, lockingtheguardsinside.

“Oi! Who’s that outside,then—”Jaelynstartedtosay,before he was cut off byanotherliquidgurk.

Jon glanced at Saul andrecognized his own sense ofmischiefreflectedinthesmileonhisfriend’sface.

Theyentered thedesertedguardhouse and ran pell-mell

to the annex where G’hanjlwaslocked.

“We don’t have muchtime,” Jon said. “Weneed toleave before the others onpatrol return.” He shovedAnya’s pack to Saul. “Here,youholdthis.”Hefumbledinhis pockets for the SquirrelSlayer.

“Don’t tellmeyouforgotto bring it,” Saul said, hiseyeswide.

Anyapokedher headoutof John’s shirt pocket. Bothmice scampered down hisshirt and leggings beforelandingonthefloor.Jonwasstill searching his pocketswhen he felt a now-familiar

popinhisear.“You put it in its sheath,

inyourpack.”AnyaturnedtoSaul. “I can carry my ownpack, thank you.” Sheshoulderedherpackwhilethemouse climbed up her torso.“Youknow,you smell reallynice for a boy, Jon. Likelilacsandroses.”

That bath. It seemed solongago.

Jonslidoffhisbackpack,dropped it on the ground,knelt on one knee, andblindlygropedinside.Failingto find theSlayer,hebent totake a closer look inside hispack. His grandfather’spendantswungoutofhisshirt

collar. Jon heaved a sigh arelief when he found theknife.He pulled it out of hispack with one hand andtucked his pendant back intohis shirt with the other. Hethen stood up and lightlytouched the tip of the Slayertothelockonthecelldoor.

Click.

The cell door swungopen. Jon expected to see ajubilant G’hanjl. Instead, thegoblin stood rooted in spot,his mouth agape, staring atJon’schest.

“G’hanjl? Are you allright?”Anyaasked.

“Oh no,” Saul said.“Maybe he hit himself too

hardonthehead.Wetoldyouto stop hurting yourself. Didyoulisten?”

“Istobethestone.Youistobehavingthekey.Nowweistobeusingsecretway.”

Jon frowned, his handreached for his shirt, for thetelltalelumpunderthefabric.“Stone?YoumeanGrampa’s

pendant?Thisisthekey?”G’hanjl nodded.But they

hadmoreurgentpriorities.Jon glanced at the

darkened hallway, which ledto the main guardhouse.“Okay, okay, G’hanjl. Butfirst,wegetout.”

“Where? How?” Saulasked.

“Anya, can you shift tolooklikeJaelyn?”

“I suppose so,” Anyasaid, a distinct expression ofdistasteonherface.

“What’s the plan?” Saulsaid.

Jon turned to his friend.“Wesneakbacktothehouse,andmeet by the lowwall in

the backyard.” Jon felt thefamiliar pop in his ears. Heturnedaroundandstudiedthe‘Jaelyn’standingwhereAnyawas. Only this ‘Jaelyn’ hadblank, silvery discs for eyes.The dun little mousescampered up and sat on hisshoulder.

“This guy smells funny,”

‘Jaelyn’ said in Anya’s highpipingvoice.

“You pretend to beJaelyn,” Jon said, “and takeG’hanjl to Grampa’sbackyard,bythepigeonberrybush.Anddon’tsayanything,‘cause you still sound likeyou. Also, keep your headdown,sonoonecanseeyour

eyes.”“Just because I look like

Jaelyn, doesn’t mean I’mstupidlikehim,”‘Jaelyn’saidin Anya’s treble. “I’m wellawareofwhattodo.”

Theboysslippedoutfirstand vanished into the night.Soon after, “Jaelyn”, with amouse perched on his

shoulder,andG’hanjl left theguardhouse.Theyallmade itback to the low wall inNaeem’s backyard withoutincident.

“Nowwhat?”Saulasked.“Now G’hanjl is to be

leadings fat Watchers andMataPeraktosecretway.”

Anya glanced up at the

moonlitsky.“We’dbettergobeforedaybreaks.”

Jon turned back for onelast glimpse at the darkenedhouse as the others jumpedthe low wall. Thank you,Grampa. I’ll keep them allsafe.Ipromise.

“Jon, we have to go,”Anyasaid.

“I’mcoming,”Jonsaid.He leapt over the wall.

They all melted into theshadows of the surroundingforest.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

WATCHERSWATCHING“They did what?” Arti

said.The parchment fell from

her nail-bitten hands andfluttered to the polished oakfloorofthestudy.

Karinbentandpickedupthe ink-splattered note. Herlong,slenderfingersshookasshe studied her son’s words.Shecrushedtheparchmenttoher chest, blank panic in hereyes. Geoff, his face grim,put a steadying hand at thesmall of her back, and thenrestedhismouthonherbright

blonde hair. His dark eyesglitteredwithfury.

Arti whirled from thetable.“You!Youknewaboutthis!”ShejabbedherfingeratNaeem’s chest. Knowing hisdiminutive wife’s temper,Logan scanned the sun-drenched study for sharpobjects, from the shelf-lined

walls, to the pair ofcomfortableleatherarmchairsandthesmallornate—There!Hesnatched the letteropenerfrom the small, spindly-legged side table standingbetween the armchairs, andhidthebladeinhispocket.

“Your own grandson!Dad, howcouldyou?”Arti’s

eyes darted around the roomwildly, as if searching forsomethingtothrow.

Thatwasclose.“Arti,calmdown.”Logan

pushed the letter openerdeeper in his pocket. “First,let’shearwhathehastosay.”

“Idon’tcarewhathehasto say,” Geoff said in an

ominous rumble. “Give hertheknife,Logan.OrI’llgiveheronemyself.”

“Geoff, the regulationsstate—”Logansaid.

“Hang the regulations!”said Geoff, his eyes ablaze.“Wasn’t that what you said?They’reoursons.He’sgotnoright—”

“Goblins.” Karin said, anoteofdesperatehope inhervoice.“Don’ttheyliveinthefar North? If we leave now,perhapswecancatch—”

“No, Karin. We can’t.”Naeem looked at all four ofthem in turn. “It’s all ourfault,youknow.”

Arti whirled to face her

father, her dark eyesnarrowing. “You’d betterexplain yourself, oldman, orelse—”

“Or else what, Arti?”Naeem snapped. “I thoughtyouwere smarter than this. Iknow I’ve taught you betterthanthis.Useyourbrain.”

Artiwinced and then fell

silent, biting her lower lip.Loganfeltasurgeoffury.Noone speaks to my wife likethat.

“It’smyfault.Ishould’vefought harder to have that…genocide order rescindedwhen I had the chance.”Naeembowedhishead.“ButI didn’t think any cyrions

survived.”Logan snorted. “So you

tried to make up for it bysendingoursonstothegoblinhomeland?” He paced theroom,shakinghishead.“Iamtrying to understandyou, oldman.GodknowsIamtrying.Butifyoudon’tstartmakingsense soon, I will hand Arti

thisknife.”Naeem raised his head

and stared into space. “Youraised your sons to be goodmen.Tobethekindofpeoplewho fight all tyrants, fromclassroom bullies toemperors.Which is the heartof being a Watcher.” Lipspursed, he walked to the

study window and rested hishand on the ornate woodenbureau standing next to it.“Try to see things from theirperspective. Anya is theirfriend. In their eyes, ahelplessgirl—”

“But she’s a cyrion—”Geoffsaid.

“Not to them!” Naeem

roared.“Tothem,sheistheirfriend.Andyou,thepowerfulWatchers, are after her life.Howhaveyoutaughtthemtorespond?” Naeem gritted histeeth,andthenheavedasigh.“And so unnecessary. She’salready imprinted on them.She’d be loyal to them untodeath.”

“How can you be sosure?” Karin asked, a faintnoteofhopeinhervoice.

Naeem gave her an icyglare. “I am sure because Iread.”

Karinflinched.He raised a questioning

eyebrow.“Whenyouseeher,doyouseeahumanchild?”

Shenodded.“That’showyouknow.If

shehadn’timprintedonthem,she wouldn’t seem the leastbithuman.”

Naeem turned away fromtheothers,openedthebureau,and took out a small boxcovered in glossy blackvelvet. “Face it. You’ve

handled this very poorly.Allofyouhave.”Naeem’svoicegrew soft and controlled.Moredamning.Heshookhisheadandtookadeepbreath.

“They’re precocious, andyou’ve taught them to beresourceful. I gathered asmuch from the few letterssent to me,” Naeem said, a

bittersmileonhislips.Therewasaknockonthe

study door. Greta entered,bearing a large silver basinfilledwithwater.

“I’d like to stay, if Imay,” she said. Her usuallygruff voice was strangelysubdued. Naeem nodded hisassent.

“Greta, you knew?” Hurtand betrayal threaded Arti’ssoftvoice.

“Yougave‘emnochoice,me girl. They’d do somefin’rashregardless.Thisway,wecanspotiftheyneedsus,andjumps inwhen theydo.”Sheset thebasin in themiddleofthe circular table in the

middleofthestudy.“Wait,”Karin said. “You

said we can’t catch them.Why?Whathaveyoudone?”Her shaking fingers pointedto the polished silver basin.“Andwhatisthatfor?”

“I gave them the safestoption I could.” Naeem tooka platinum ring out of the

black velvet box. The ringwassetwithanopaquemossgreen stone, flecked withbrightcrimsonstreaks.

“That’s Mum’s ring.”Arti’s glared at Naeem, hereyes narrowed withaccusation. “You gave themyourbloodstone.”

“So they could use the

portal, yes. I didn’t want toriskthemrunningintobanditsor,Godforbid,otherbandsofgoblins. I thought it best ifthey gowhere theywouldn’tbeexpected.”

Naeem dropped the ringinto the silver basin. Themetal clinked when it hitbottom.

“Then we can go getthem,” Karin said. “Rightnow.Usingthebloodstone.”

“No.” Naeem studied ateach of them in turn. “Let’ssee if any of you can workoutwhy.”

Therewasabriefpause.“Because our attempt to

help would nullify this

attempt.And they’ll only tryagain,”Logansaid.

Geoff covered his eyeswith his hand. “Yes, and thenexttime—”

“They’ll be sure not totake the bloodstone,” Artisaid, looking directly at herfather. “Because they’llrealizewecanstopthem.”

“Good,”Naeemsaidwithawrysmile.“Yourbrainsareworkingagain.”Heleanedonthe table, in front of thepolishedsilverbasin.“Just tobe clear,wedonot interfere.Not unless it’s that or theydie. Are we agreed?” Helooked directly into each oftheir eyes until they all gave

reluctantnods.“Greta, if you please?”

Naeemsaid.Greta produced a

gleamingobsidiandaggerandgave the blade to Naeem.Twinned serpents entwinedaround each other, their eyesset with flawless rubies,decorateditshandle.

“Let’s use the scryingpool to seewhatwecan see,shallwe?”Naeemprickedhisthumb,andsqueezedasingledrop of blood into the waterin the silver basin. The dropof scarlet briefly formedtwistingribbonsofredbeforediffusing, disappearing intotheclearwater.

“Blood to blood, I callyou,” Naeem said. “Bloodfromblood,Iseeyou.”

CHAPTEREIGHTEENSECRETWAY

Jonfeltasurgeofwarmth

from his grandfather’spendant. He lifted thebloodstonefromof thecollarofhis tunicandtookacloserlookatitinthemorninglight.

Why had Grampa chosensuch an ugly gem for apendant?Insteadofsparkling,the stone seemed to sucklight. Perhaps he wasimagining things, but thecrimson flecks in the stonelooked brighter this morningthan they did last night. Heshrugged. Probably just the

light.“Come on, Jon,” Saul

said.“Stoplollygagging.”Jon smiled. Saul always

hurried him along, possiblyfromthemomenthewasabletalk. “I’m coming.” Hejogged along the forest trail,hispackbouncingonhisbackwitheachstep.

“So,”Jonsaid,asardonicsmile lurking on his lips.“How much trouble do youthinkwe’reinnow?”

“Well, depends. If wesucceed, I think we’d begrounded for…oh, I don’tknow…therestofourlives?”

“Andifwedon’t?”Saulturnedandgrinnedat

him.“ThenIthinkit’samootpoint.”

“I could use thebloodstone.”Jonfingered thesmooth,warmstonependant.

“Do you truly think weshould?” Saul asked, hiseyebrowsarching.

Jon looked at Anya andG’hanjlwhowerewalkingin

frontofthem.Theyhadbeentalkingtheentirenight.

“No,” Jon said. “I don’tthink so. Not if we can helpit.Ithinktheydeservebetter.Don’tyou?”

“Ithinksotoo.”Saulhada grim look on his face.“Thoserulesneedchanging.”

Jon turned his head and

kepthisattentionfixedonthetrail before them. “Whataboutthegrumps,though?”

“Jon, Saul,” Anya said.“Comequick.We’rehere.”

Jonlookedupandsawthetwoofthemstandingbeforeaholeintheground.

“Watch your step,”Anyasaid. “G’hanjl said this place

is riddled with holes. Holesthatopenintocaves.”

Jon walked towards thetwoofthem,placingonefootbefore the other with specialcare. It was not a naturalopening. The hole was aperfect circle, with smooth,regular,seamlessedges.Theydropped their packs and

peered closer into thedarknesswithin.

Saul picked up a pebblefrom the leaf-strewn forestfloor. He dropped it into thehole, counting aloud. Threeseconds passed before thepebblehitbottom.

“This,” Saul said, “doesnot seem like the portal we

went through to get toLinwood.”

“Is secret way. AlsoMataPerak need to say bye-bye to little friend.” G’hanjlgestured at the tiny dunmouseonAnya’sshoulder.

“Why?”Anyaasked.“Is secret, magic way. Is

very danger to little friend.

Then MataPerak is muchfatnessofsaddings.”

“But then,” Jon said,“she’llbeblind.”

Saul scratched his blondehead. “And how do we getdown? Seems too far tojump.”Hestudiedthecoilsofrope beside their packs.“Maybe if we use the

ropes…”“G’hanjl is sayings secret

way.G’hanjlisneversayingseasy way. Easy way iswalkings.”

“But walking would takemonths,”Anyasaid.

“IswhyG’hanjl is takingMataPerak and fatWatcherstosecretway.”

Anyalethermousefrienddownwithgentle hands.Thedunmousescampereda littlewayaway,thenturnedaroundand appeared to hesitate. Itgave a little squeak beforedisappearingintothebushes.

“Anya,usemyeyes,”Jonsaid. “You need to see. Weneedyoutosee.”

“But—”“It’s all right. I’m asking

youto.Itrustyou.You’renotgoing to control my mind.Andyoutrustme,right?”

Shestillhesitated.“Right?”Joninsisted.She nodded, still

obviouslyreluctant.Jonsquaredhisshoulders.

“Okay,sohowdoIdothis?”“Just relax, and don’t

fightme.”“Should I close my

eyes?”Shegiggled. “I think that

wouldratherdefeatthepoint,don’tyou?”

“Sorry. Okay. Trying torelax,”Jonsaid,feelingmore

thanalittlefoolish.Jon looked at the forest,

not resting his sight onanything in particular. Thesunlight shone through thecanopy in glowing spears.Following the bright shafts,his focus drifted down androamedover the summertimegrass,gracedwithascattering

ofbuttercups.Tinygoldcoinsonabedofgreen.Abuzzingbetrayedasinglebeecirclingpurple towers of white-tongued foxgloves.Traces ofmint in the air remindedhimofhismum’sroastlambwithmint sauce. His mouthwatered.

Jon felt a little tickle in

the corner of his mind, andthen his eyesmoved of theirown volition. There was amomentary wave of chokingpanicasheinstinctivelytriedto regain control. The gentleticklingfadedbeforehecouldforcehimselftorelax.

“I’m sorry. It’s okay,Anya.Tryagain.”

Frowning a little, shenodded.

Jon let his eyes roam,watchingtheplayofshadowson the grass, as a warmsummer breeze caressed thebranches of trees overhead.There was the gentle tickleagain.

“It’sokay,goon.”

Whenhis eyesmovedontheirown,Jonletthem.Thenhis heart started to race, andhis mouth went dry. Odd. Iam relaxed and thinking ofnothing more exciting thanroast lamb in mint sauce.Whenhefeltanaliensurgeofapprehension, he turned hishead and noticed Anya

worrying her lower lip, herface,tense.

She’snervous.“It’s okay. Go ahead. I

trustyou.”The apprehension melted

away, replaced by relief,tinged with wonder anddelight.

“Oh, it’s so good to see

redagain.It’sgoodtoseeallthese colors again. Mice arecolor-blind,youknow.”

Jon found his headwrenchedtothesideasAnyacaught sight of a squirrelclimbingupatree.

“Owowow-please-stop-that-hurts.” He felt hercontrol over his head and

neckslipaway,followedbyawaveofdeepregret.

Thisisgoingtobetricky.“It’s okay. You didn’t

mean to. I understand. Nexttimethough,awarningwouldbenice.”

“Okay,I’msorry.”Remorse continued to

pulseunabated.

ShehastofeelImeanit.Gripping her bony

shoulders, Jon stared deepintoherblank,silveryeyes.Ithadalwaysbeenhardforhimto feel anything. But thistime,he reallyneeded to.Hesummoned all he felt abouttheir friendship, and put allthat in the forefront of his

mind, so she wouldunderstand. His gratefulness,warm camaraderie, and deepaffectionforafriend.

“It’s really okay,” Jonsaid.

The persistent, alien tugof remorse dissipated likeearlymorningmist.Replacedbyanoverwhelmingsenseof

relief anddelightmirrored inAnya’sradiantsmile.

“Are you done? Can wegonow?”Saulsaid.“It’sjustthat, you know, I think I’vefigured out how to go downthehole.”

Jon turned and spottedSaul holding one end of therope looped around a tree

trunk.Theother enddangledintothecaveopening.

“G’hanjl is already downand Igot allourpacksdowntheretoo.”

“Nice work, Saul.” JonturnedtoAnya.“Yougofirst.G’hanjl can help you onceyougetdown.”

“Yeah,” Saul said. “Then

you.AndI’llgodownlast.”“Saul,” Jon said. “You

must be tired after all that.YougoafterAnya,andIcanlowermyselfdown.”

Jon felt an alien surge ofimpatience. He turned toAnya,herheadcocked,armscrossedandleftfoottapping.

“Anya,go,”Jonsaid.Saul

pulled up the rope and Jontied it around her slightframe.Theybothloweredherdown, andwaited for the tugto show she was done withtherope.

“Right. You’re goingnext, Saul. We don’t knowwhat could be down there. IneedyoutoprotectuswhileI

getdown.”Saul nodded and went

down without complaint.When Jon felt the tug, hepulled up the rope and tiedone end around himself. Hetook one last look aroundbeforehebeganhisdescent.

Noturningbacknow.There was a surge of

warmthandcomfort.ShesenseswhatIfeel.A now familiar

impatiencereplacedthesenseofwarmthandcomfort.

“Jon,comeon,”Saulsaid.“I’m coming,” Jon said.

He lowered himself into thehole.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

THROUGHTHEPORTALJonstudiedtheinteriorof

the cavern as he stowed therope. Eldritch orbs of garishviolet light, likeexhibitionistic fireflies,illuminated the walls, which

extendedfromfloortoceilingin a uniformly smooth,seamless arch. Except in onespot,where his friends stoodwaiting.Likeitsopening,thiscavern was not natural. Joncrouched and trailed hisfingers over the cool, drycavernfloor.

Volcanic rock. His eyes

roamedovertheroom.It’sallvolcanic rock. But Grampasaidthisislimestonecountry.

The black glassy floorwaslitteredwiththebonesofanimals that fell through theopening and failed to findtheirwaybackout.

Or else, killed by thewardsinthisplace.

His focus returned to theopeningfarabovehishead.

“Jon,comeon,”Saulsaid.“Ithinkwe’vefoundtheway.Whatareyoudoing?”

“He’sbeenlookingat thefloorandwalls,”Anyasaid.

“Why?”Saulasked.“Wondering how we can

getoutlater,”Jonsaid.

Saul sighed. “Like youusually say—We’ll think ofsomething then. For now,let’sjustgo.”

Jon felt traces of Anya’samusement,mingledwithherever-present impatience. Herose from his haunches,shouldered his pack, andmade his way to his friends.

Theywerewaitingforhiminfront of a natural limestoneopening. As they made theirway through the elongatedtunnel, Jon felt Anya’sgrowing discomfort. Herealized she was sensingsomething unnatural at theend of the passage. Waterdripped slowly from the tips

of over-hanging stalactitesinto stagnant pools dottingthe pocked and pitted floor.The floating orbs of garishviolet light cast strangeshadowsonirregularwalls.

“G’hanjl,” Anya said,“whyareyourpeoplemeantotheirownkind?”

“Humanshaveheroesand

tyrants,yes?”G’hanjlduckedhishead toavoida stalactite.“So do we. Humans havegreat leaders and madmen,yes?”

“Sometimes they are oneandthesame,”Anyasaid.

“Sodowe.Humanswantpeace and fatness, yes?”G’hanjl skirted a pool of

water. “So do we,” he saidwithanemphaticnod.

“Your common tongue isbetter,”Saulsaid.

Jon felt the glow ofAnya’spride.

“MataPerakteached—”“Taught,”Anyasaid.“Taught me to speak

better.”G’hanjlmadeaquick

bow to Anya, and thencontinuedahead.

Saul skirted a pool ofwater. “Don’t you haveWatchers or guards orsomething to stop the badpeople?”

“Yes, but they no helpG’hanjl clan. G’hanjl clanHa’rani”

“Ha’rani?”Saulfrowned,histonguestumblingovertheword.

G’hanjl made animpatientcluckingsound.

“You come. You see,”G’hanjl said, bobbing hishead.“Weishere.”

They had reached a deadend.

Theblankwalltheyfacedmadeastrikingcontrasttotheknobbysurfaceofthenaturallimestone passage. Like theentrancechamberoftheotherend of the passage, this wallwas of smooth, blackvolcanicrock.

Jon leaned in and peeredat the wall’s mirror-like

surface.“Anya?”“Stinks of magic,” Anya

said. “Worse than yourweapons.”

“G’hanjl,thisisthekey?”Jon lifted the bloodstonependantoutofhisshirt.

G’hanjl bobbed his head.“Yes.”

With the pendant in one

hand,Jonreachedoutandranhis other hand over the cool,smoothsurfaceofthewall.Itwasdryandperfectlyflat.

So how do I use thebloodstone?

“Anya?”“Idon’t know, Jon. I can

tellyouthewallismadewithmagic,butIdon’tknowhow

tomakeitwork.”“G’hanjl?”“I take to secret way, fat

Watcher. I not know actualsecret.”

“Saul?”“You’reaskingme?”Saul

said, his eyes open wide. “Idon’t know. How about wesmash itopen?Butwhat if it

blowsupinstead?Orcausesacave-in? Maybe there’s amagicwordorsomething.”

Anyaranherfingersoverthe wall. “Then GrampaNaeem would have foundsome way to tell us theword.”

Jon nodded his head.She’s right. Frowning, he

examined the stone pendantinhishand,deepinthought.

This is a bloodstone.Wait… Jon’s lips stretchedintoagrin.Theanswercan’tpossiblybesosimple.

He let go of the pendantand reached for the Slayer.Jon hesitated for a moment.No way to tell what, if

anything, will happen. Betterbesafethansorry.

“Everyonestepback.”“Jon, what are you

doing?” Saul said, grabbinghisarm.

“Trying to figure thingsout.” Jon pricked the ball ofhis thumb with the Slayer’srazor point. He returned the

Slayer to its sheath andsqueezedhisthumb,watchingthetinybeadofbloodslowlyswell. Jon touched hisbloodied thumb to the stonependantbeforelightlyplacingthe tips of his shaking,wounded hand on the chill,smooth surface of the wall.Hismuscles tensed, ready to

spring away in a hurry,shouldheneedto.Asmearofcrimson spoiled the flawless,mirror-like finish of thevolcanicrock.

As soon as his bloodied

thumbmadecontactwith thewall, thebloodstonebegantopulsateinhisotherhand.The

chill wall grew warm underhis fingertips. He pulled hishand away just before itbecame scorching hot. Ashape emerged with glacialspeed fromwithin the glossydarkness.

Adoor.Alarge,battered,wooden

dooremergedoutofthesolid

volcanic rock, and stopped afew inches in front of thewall, hovering above thepassagefloor.

Inplaceofthehandleandkeyhole was a depression,shaped exactly like hisgrandfather’s bloodstonependant.

Jon fit his pendant, still

tacky with blood, into thedepression. The door swungopen. A cold wind blew onhis face, carrying with it theunmistakable, chilly kiss ofsnow.

Jon looked at hiscompanions with atriumphant grin. “I think wecangothroughnow.”

He stepped through thedoor, and was nearlyovercome by the heart-stopping cold. As one, theydropped their packs andwrapped themselveswith thebundles of fur Gramps hadtheforesighttoprovide.

“G’hanjl,” Anya said,“aren’tyoucold?”

Jon felt Anya’s concernforthesmall,thingoblin.AllG’hanjl had on was a tornleather shirt and a pair ofworn breeches.His head andfeetwerebare.Newlyformedice crystals sparkled in hisscanttuftsofwhitehair.

“Ifyouare,”Anyasaid,“Ican Shift into a bear or

something,andyoucanwearthesefurstheGrampspackedforme.”

“Is a bit chilly forsummer,” G’hanjl said. “Butno, not so cold. If G’hanjlcold, G’hanjl—” he spat onhisarm.

“And that keeps youwarm?”Saulsaid.

“Yes,” G’hanjl said,beaming. “Goblin spit thick,strong. Keep warm.Traditional goblin welcome.You want G’hanjl keep youwarmtoo?”

“No, no,” Saul said,stepping away from thegoblinas fast ashecould. “Iam quite cozy, thank you all

thesame.”Stampinghis feet tokeep

warm,Jonlookedaroundandnoticed a frost-lined passage,which seemed to leadupward. “Let’s get moving.We’llstaywarmer.”

The four of them madetheir way through thefreezing passage and out of

theportalcavern.A barren landscape of

snow-covered hills greetedthemastheyemerged.

“Welcome to Goblinhomeland,”G’hanjlsaid.

CHAPTERTWENTY

WELCOMETOGOBLINHOMELAND

Jonstaredatthesmallfire

as he snuggled into Anya’ssoft,white fur. Exhausted bytheirmaddashfromLinwoodand desperate for a place to

rest, it was fortunate theystumbled on the small cave.Insistent that they would notturn some poor innocentcreature out into the merciesofatundranight,Anyamadea careful examination of thecave before declaring ituninhabited by any localwildlife.

At this point, all Jonwanted to do was to goinside,curlupinhisfurs,anddrown himself with sleep.However, Anya insisted itwasdangerousforhumanstosleep when they were all socold.Shechargedallthreeofthem with the task ofcollecting firewood so they

couldstartasmallfire.BythetimeJonstumbledbacktothecave with his armful ofunidentified vegetation, theyfound Anya had shifted intothe form of a white snowbear.

Jon was desperate forsleep. He was never so tiredin his life. The cave was so

cozy.Thelittlefiretickledhisnose with smoke, the animalpelts tucked aroundSaul andhimself was so thick andplush, the soft warmth ofAnya’s fur against his back,neck and cheek.Hewas justabout to drop off to sleep,when he felt a little niggletugging at the back of his

mind.SomethingG’hanjlsaidwhichdidn’tquitefit.

“G’hanjl,howbigisyourfamily?” Saul sounded half-asleep.

Wait aminute.Anya saidgoblinswereneitherbornnorhatched. So how could hehave a sister? Jon’s fatiguedrainedinaninstant,replaced

by a familiar coldness bornefromhisgrumps’training.

He is still a goblin. Areweindanger?

A surge of adrenalineburst through his body,leaving his mind sharp andcrystal clear. He sensedAnya’s renewed alertnessdespite the snow bear’s

deceptive languor. She wasstillsharinghiseyes.

How should I ask thiswithout alerting him, if hedoes,indeed,meanusharm?

Jon casually pulled hispack to his chest, as thoughhe wanted something soft tocuddle as he fell asleep.Under the shadows cast by

the flickering campfire, heunsheathed and retrieved theSlayer fromhispack.He feltthevibrationthroughhisbackas Anya tensed and gave alow, almost inaudible,rumble.

Heregoes.I’llsimplyaskhim.

“G’hanjl,” Jon said in

what he hoped was a sleepyvoice.“Anyasaidthatgoblinsare neither born nor hatched.She said they are createdsomehow.”

“Is be silly. G’hanjl hasmotherandfather,andsistersandbrothers.”

Jon heard Saul snorebeside him and felt a twinge

ofannoyance.He always expects me to

dothesethings.His ribs vibrated again

withAnya’slowrumble.Right.Focusonthisnow,

yellatSaullater.“But she said she read it

inabook.”G’hanjl looked at Jon

withhislarge,yellowedeyes.Jon thought there was asadnessinthem.

“Booksbelying.”G’hanjlsighed.“Alongtimeagowaswar between humans andgoblinkind.”

“Why?”G’hanjl shrugged.

“G’hanjl is not to be

knowings. G’hanjl is only tobe knowings that anotherMataPerak on goblin sidethen. At first, we is to bewinning. Later, we is not.Then MataPerak wentboom.”

“Boom?”G’hanjl nodded. “Boom.

Much humans, much fatness

of land, gone with boom. Issaltywaternow.”

“What’s that got to dowiththebookslying?”

“Booksmadebyyoungofhumans who went boom.Theyistobehatingus.”

G’hanjl frowned as hestudied the flickeringcampfire.

“G’hanjl is not beblaming them.G’hanjl is notto be likings us very muchsometimes. And G’hanjl isus.”

“Still doesn’t make itright,” Jon said, frowning.“Whattheydid,Imean.”

Saul gave a quick snort,turned to his other side, and

wentbacktosnoring.G’hanjlshruggedagain.“Iscommon.Goblinslose

war. So goblins evil. Ifgoblins win war, humans tobe evil.” He looked at Jondead in the eye. “Alwayshappen.”

Shouldwe trusthim? Jonmentally projected this as

clearlyashecould.“G’hanjl is to be

knowings fat Watchers andMataPerak think all goblinbad.ButG’hanjl not be bad.Youcome.Yousee.Fornow,G’hanjlbesleeping.”He laiddown, turned his back onthemandwenttosleep.

Well?

The snow bear snuffedtheair.ThenJon felt a senseof reassurance from theinternal presence herecognizedasAnya.

Yeah.Iget thesensehe’stellingthetruthtoo.

Thesnowbearclosedhersilvery eyes, and Jon feltAnya’s presence fade as she

driftedintoslumber.Goodnight,myfriend.Jon tucked the pelts a

little closer to Saul andhimself, before closing hisown eyes. He soon losthimselftosleep.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

THEHA’RANQUARTERJoncouldbarely feelhis

fingers and toes, while hisnose and ears hurt from thecold. He hunched hisshoulders and kept his headdown, hoping to conserve

morebodyheatashetrekkedalong the twisting dirt trail,treacherous with randompatches of black ice. Saulseemed equally miserable,with his reddened nose andcracked wind-chapped lips.OnlyAnyaandG’hanjlwerecomfortable. Anya shiftedinto an arctic fox earlier that

morning. She paddedalongside them, camouflagedandwarminherplush,silver-whitecoatofwinterfur.

Jonwould’vespentafewmoments admiring the view,if not for his state of frozenmisery.

G’hanjl seemed simplypleased to be almost home.

He kept pointing out whatmustbeimportantlandmarks.Brambly bushes with leavesof dark green, covered inpatches of bright-orangesalmonberries.Ahalf-frozenlake, frequented by flocks ofharlequin ducks. He evenpointed out a few knownwillow grouse ptarmigan

nesting sites, and thensmackedhis lipsashe talkedabout the different ways hisfamily prepared thedelectablegoblindelicacy.

Jon tuned G’hanjl outlong ago. It started to snowhalfway through their hike,and freezing water keptfinding its way—dripping

from the narrow brim of hishatintothecollarofhiscoat,fromthetopsofhisboots—tohisskin.Hejustwantedtogetsomewheredryandwarm, toget off his feet, whensomething G’hanjl said cutthroughhishazeofself-pity.

“We is here. This be theHa’ranQuarter.”

Jon snapped his head upand spotted…snow-speckledmounds of dirt. He sensed asimilar disbelief from Anya.He rubbed his eyes andsquintedtogetabetterlook.

Okay, sonot justmoundsof dirt. Smoking mounds ofdirt.

HeturnedtoSaulandsaw

similar expression ofconfusiononhisface.

“Come. Come see.”G’hanjlledthemtowhatwaspresumably the center of theQuarter.

There were about twodozenor so smokingpilesofearth built along the icy,grimy dirt path they took to

get to the center of theSquare. The earth structuresallhadsmallopeningsfacingouttomuddy,unpavedpaths.Everything was covered inicyslush,grainedwithdirt.Acrude wooden footbridgeteeteredover adeepcanalofstinking, slow-moving muck,which cut right through the

middleofthesquare.The inhabitants of the

Ha’ran Quarter seemed verymuch like G’hanjl. They allworerags,seemedill-fedandmuchsmaller than thegoblintroopers the trio hadpreviouslyencountered.

Compared to the rest ofthe Ha’rani, G’hanjl actually

seemed dapper.More robust.Hewas the biggest goblin intheQuarter.

The Ha’rani scurriedabout their unnamedbusiness, unwilling to meetJon’s eyes. Or anyone’s, forthat matter. They all kepttheir heads down, or on thetasks they were currently

performing. Even the goblinchildren. Bands of goblinchildren lined both banks ofthe canal, holding long poleswith hooks attached at theprotruding end. They studiedthe refuse floating along thecanal with a sustainedintensity Jon had never seenin children. Periodically, one

ormoreof themwouldreachoutwith the pole and snag apiece of debris as it bobbedpast.

From the corner of hiseye, Jon spotted anincongruous splash of color.A tangle of fuchsia in anever-ending sea of grayishbrown.Thebegrimedremains

ofawhiteandblackPapillionpupfloatedalongthecanal,along, jaunty pink ribbon stilltwined around its neck. Thegoblin children gave squealsofexciteddelight.Thebandson opposite banks of thecanal competed to snag theprize. Jon’s ears popped asAnya shifted back into her

humanform.“G’hanjl,” Anya said.

“Please tell me they areplanning to give it a properburial?”

“That is to be shamefulwasteofgoodfood.”

Saulgasped.“Good meat on dog.

Bones andmarrow, good for

soup and stew. The hide,mittens for little ones.”G’hanjl led them across thefootbridge.“Thehair,wespinto yarn. The rest we use tocure hide, for medicine, ortoysforlittleones.”

Jon jerked his head backin shock. Anya’s nail-bittenfingers flew to her face,

coveringherlips.Saul’seyeswidened as he sputteredinarticulatewords.

“Come.Wehere.”Thethreeofthemducked

their heads as they enteredone of the smoking moundsof earth. Jon couldmake outthree goblins huddled in thegloomyinteriorofthemound.

One of the goblins brokeawayfromtheothertwo,andembraced G’hanjl. Shechittered and twittered inwhatwas,presumably,goblinlanguage. Jon looked at Sauland Anya, his sense ofdismay mirrored in theexpressionsontheirfaces.

This might complicate

things.The other two goblins

backed away from them, asthough they were rabidanimals. Their wide,yellowed eyes stayed trainedon them, unblinking.G’hanjlturnedtofacethetrio,hisarmaround the other goblin’sbonyshoulders.

“This be Sa’atha, mysister.” G’hanjl turned toSa’atha and the other twogoblins then chitteredsomething.

“What did you say tothem?”Saulasked.

“G’hanjl is to be tellingthem no traditional goblinwelcome necessary. You is

warmenough.”“Thank you, G’hanjl,”

Anya said, the epitome ofcourtesy. “No goblin spit isneeded.Wearewarm.”

“MataPerak and fatWatchers is to be sitting.Come.Sit.”G’hanjlmotionedto the fur-covered areaaround the smoking stone-

linedpit.Asmallfirebelchedclouds of greasy, stinkingsmoke, up towards theopening at the roof of theearth-walled structure. Saulwrinkled his nose andhesitated for a split-second.Jon shot his friend a sternglance, and then gave him anod.

It’s G’hanjl’s home.Anya’s right—we shouldn’tberude.

Saulstifledasighandsatdown. Jon took the spotbesidehim.

G’hanjlsaidsomethingtoSa’atha, and she hurried outof themound.The other twogoblins, still watching them

with obvious fear andsuspicion, sat across fromthem,ontheothersideofthefirepit.

“This be J’hatk.”G’hanjlmotioned to the older of thetwo goblins. The flickeringflames highlighted J’hatk’spinched, weatherworn face,lined with worry. He sat

across from them, leaningforward, his elbows restingon knobby knees. J’hatk’shunched thin shouldersalmost covered his pointyears, andhis callousedhandscompulsively twitched.Noting Jon’s eyes on him,J’hatk ducked his head andclasped his hands tightly

together, stilling them. Jon’seyes widened with shockwhen the fire illuminatedwelts of thick, raised scartissue trailing down theelderly goblin’s bared neck,shoulders,andarms.

“This to be D’huri.”G’hanjl motioned to ayounger-looking goblin. He

sat, leaning back against thedirtwall, away from the fire,his stubby legs outstretched.D’huri’sposturecastmuchofhisfaceinshadow,withonlyhisyellowedeyesglowing inthe semi-darkness. D’huriwas looking directly at Jon.There seemed to besomethingotherthanjustfear

andsuspicioninhiseyes.Jonthought he saw a hint ofdefiance.

“They is to represent theHa’ran working in the otherQuarters.Pleasetobepatient.G’hanjl is to be needings totalk with them.” G’hanjlturned away from them andconversedwith theother two

goblins.The conversation had

been going on for a whilewhen Sa’atha re-entered thedwelling, bearing a traywiththree mismatched bowlsbrimming with steamingstew. She handed a bowl toeachof thechildren.“Please,to eat,” she said in a soft

voice.Shetappedherbrotherontheshoulderandgavehimanod.G’hanjllookedpleasedand then returned to hisconversation with the othertwogoblins.

Jon peered at his bowland its contents. The bowlhad an odd, irregular shape,and appeared to be carved

from bone of some kind. Hestopped his wondering mindright there. G’hanjl’s wordsexplaining how the Ha’ranitended to waste nothingechoed in his ears. Jonpreferred not to speculatewhatthebone—bowl,Imeantbowl—came from.Unidentifiedmorsels ofmeat

swam in a thick, pungentbroth. He turned when heheard appreciative, lip-smacking sounds, and notedthat Saul already almostemptiedhisbowl.

Heregoes.He placed his first

spoonful into hismouth, andwas pleasantly surprised at

the fragrant, rich, meatyflavorthatfloodedhissenses.G’hanjl and Sa’atha leanedforwardastheywaitedforhisreactiontothestew.

“Isgood,yes?Meat fromrat,nottwoweeksdead.Meathardlygreenatall.”

Jon’seyeswidened.Spitorswallow?

Sa’athachittered.“Sa’atha,youshouldtobe

practicing your CommonTongue,” G’hanjl said,scoldinghis sister.He turnedback to them. “Sa’atha is tobe saying she left wigglywhite worms in. Add flavorandfatness,no?”

Jonforcedasmile.Saul’s

facepaledashestared,wide-eyed,athisnowemptybowl.

Okay. Spit, swallow, orhurl?

Jon felt a wave ofdisapproval and flicked aglanceatAnya.Shegavehima quick frown as shecontinued to sip from herstew.

Right. We’re their guestsand they don’t have much.This is probably the bestthingtheyhave.Swallowitis.

Jonsteeledhisnervesandforcedhimselftoswallow.

“It’sgood,”hechoked.G’hanjl patted Sa’atha’s

shoulders, his wizened facebrightenedwithevidentpride,

his grin stretching from onepointy ear to the other.“Sa’athaisgoodcook.”Thenhisexpressionturnedserious.“J’hatk and D’huri say wetalk tootherHa’rani inotherquarters. Then we meet andmakeplan.”Henoddedatthebowl on Jon’s lap. “Youfinish,thenwego?”

“No, no. This isimportant,”Jonsaid,gladforthe excuse. He set his bowlon the dirt floor. He felt atickle of amusement fromAnya. “Saul and Anya aredone. And I’m not thathungryanyway.”

G’hanjl nodded atSa’atha, and she left the

moundagain.Shereturnedinshortorderwithanarmfuloffabric. After a few minutes,three much-mended, heavycloaks covered the trio fromhead to foot. The hemline ofAnya’s cloak puddled at herfeet.

“Isbiggestoneswehave.All other ones too short for

MataPerak and FatWatchers,” G’hanjl said asthe trio adjusted the fit oftheircloaks.Shakinghisheadfuriously, G’hanjl rose fromhis seat and stopped Anyawhenshetriedtoliftthehemofhercloaktoavoidsteppingonit.“No,MataPerak.WeispretendingtobeHa’rani,and

Ha’rani no wear boots. Noonemustseeyourboots.”

Jonfelta traceofAnya’sannoyance as she let thefabricslipthroughherfingersback to puddle at her feet.Justbecausesheunderstands,and agrees with G’hanjl’srationale, does notmean shelikesit.

G’hanjl scrutinized thetrio, to make sure everytelltale signwas covered.Henodded his head withsatisfaction and then headedfor the door of the structure.“Come.Wego.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

THEOTHERQUARTERS Jon kept his head down

when they passed through ashabbysidegate,litteredwithrefuse,intothegoblinCitadelproper. Huddled in theirhooded cloaks, and Anya

cussing when she trippedover hers, they followedD’huri into what G’hanjlcalled the T’hany quarter, aclearly more prosperous partoftheCitadel.

WheretheHa’ranQuarterwasmarkedbydirttracksandsmoking mounds of dirt, theT’hany Quarter was

characterized by twistingcobbled streets and neat,compact cottages. Jonobserved how the goblinsattempted to scratch a livingby cultivating the poor, half-frozensoil.

Still,patchesofcultivatedplots glowed a beautifulemerald green against the

stark white, snow-coveredlandscape.

The Ha’rani carted andspread processed manure inirregular fields. The T’hanii,equipped with whips, stoodon wooden platforms andbarked orders. They wouldsometimes step down fromthe platforms to apply the

whip on random laboringHa’rani, for no reason Joncoulddiscern.

Not that there’s ever agood reason towhipanyone.Anya’s growing outrageroiled under her unspokenwords.

Heshotaglanceather. Iknow. But we need to be

inconspicuous. Anyashrugged, and her outrage,mingled with reluctance,fadedfromhishead.

“Jon,comeon,”Saulsaid.Jon hurried towards hisfriend. They hid in ashadowed alley and waitedforD’huri’scontacttoarrive.G’hanjl asked Anya to slip

thehood fromherhead foramoment when the contactarrived. The other goblingasped. G’hanjl asked Anyatopullherhoodbackon,andthree goblins went into ahuddle. Jon’s attentionwanderedasfuriouswhispersensuedfromthethree.

The T’hanii goblin

children looked both betterfed and dressed. They stillhurried about their chores,fetchingwater,weeding theirgarden plots and feedingsome hardy species ofchicken. Not one of themshowed the slightest interestin the canal running throughtheir Quarter, except when

they needed to throw awaywhat looked like trash. Thewoodenbridgeoverthecanalseemed solidly built andelaboratelycarved.

G’hanjl’svoicebrokeintohis reverie. “Is done. Come.WegotoD’hadhuQuarter.”

“G’hanjl, is this the samecanalastheoneintheHa’ran

Quarter?”“Same canal in all

Quarters.” G’hanjl quicklyscanned the area, as thoughensuring they had not caughtthenoticeofanyT’hanii.

“What are the T’hanii?”Jonsaid.

“T’hanii is tobemakingsandgrowingthings.”

They continued to hurryalong twisty, shadowedalleys.

“And theD’hadhu?”Saulasked.

G’hanjl spat into thefrost-rimmed cobblestones.“D’hadhu is be D’hibuk’scaste.Officer class ptuh.Weis needings to be more

careful.”Jon kept his head down

when they passed throughanother gateway built ofdressed stone with a door ofsolidoak.

ThecobbledstreetsoftheD’hadhu Quarter seemed tobe organized in a strict gridpattern. Gone were the neat

cottages. In their place stoodstonebuildings,which, ifnotfor a few odd architecturaltouches,couldhavebelongedalongtheanyofthewealthierresidential streets ofLinwood.

JontookaquickpeekintothecanalthatranthroughtheD’hadhu Quarter as they

walked along its banks. Thewater was still relativelyclear, free of refuse, and didnot smell. Jonevenspottedafew wilted flower blossomsbobbingonthewatersurface.The spartan bridge theycrossed when making theirway over the canal wasconstructed of slabs of

polished granite andcompletely devoid ofornamentation.

Thegoblinswanderingonthe streets of the D’hadhuQuarterresembledthegoblinsJon first encountered. Theywere taller, of bigger build,and dressed in what lookedlike variants of the same

uniform.UnliketheothertwoQuarters, Joncouldnot seeasingle goblin child from themomenttheysteppedintotheD’hadhu Quarter. They wereapproaching an ornate brassgate when G’hanjl thrustthemintoasidealley.

“G’hanjl, what—?” Saulsaid.

“Shh.” His head duckedlow, G’hanjl’s gaze dartedaround inalarm.Hehunchedhis scrawny shoulders andstoopedhisback,asifhewastrying to make himself assmallaspossible.“Alsotobekeepingheaddown.”

Unable to contain hiscuriosity, Jon peeked around

the corner. A Ha’rani,polishing the brass gate theywere approaching, had hiscleaning supplies scatteredaround him. A pair ofD’hadhii, deep inconversation, was comingtowards them and theworking Ha’rani. One of theD’hadhii accidentally kicked

the Ha’rani’s pot of polish,spilling its contents all overhisboots.Hissinginfury,theD’hadhii pulled a steelstiletto, and casually plungedit into the Ha’rani’s exposedneck.

The Ha’rani slumpedwithoutasound.

BothD’hadhiichattedand

continued on their way,steppingover thegoblinwhowas dying in a growing poolof his own blood. Theyclucked at the stained, stilldripping stiletto, presumablyfor being irretrievably ruinedby the blood of a Ha’rani.TheD’hadhii casually tossedtheblade.Itclatteredintothe

gutter, staining the pristinegranitebrightorange.Jonfeltan alien surge of fury andoutrage.He turnedandnotedAnya’s clenched jaws andfists.

“Heshould’vekeptoutofway,” G’hanjl said in atonelessvoice.

“G’hanjl,” Anya said,

“how could you say that?”Her silvereyesglitteredwithfury.

G’hanjlshrugged.“WeinD’hadhu Quarter. He knewrules.”

Despite his nonchalance,Jon thought he heard a noteof bitterness in the littlegoblin’svoice.

“Butthosearebadrules,”Jonsaid.

“Is why we needMataPerakandFatWatchers.Is why we have to leave.”G’hanjl waited until the pairofD’hadhiiturnedthecorner.“Come,wego.”

“Shouldn’twehelphim?”Anya asked as they

approached the dyingHa’rani.

“Is too late for him,”G’hanjlsaid.

They skirted around thelimpform.

Hisvoicegrewhard.“Butnottoolateforothers.”

G’hanjl’s face darkenedashepickedupthediscarded,

bloodstained stiletto,glittering in the gutter. Hetucked it into his belt, andthen turned to the children.“Come.”

Thefiveofthementeredacemetery, and ducked into amarble mausoleum. VariousHa’rani were inside, dustingandcleaninginthegloom.

“G’hanjl,” Jon said, “areHa’rani not allowed to be inthisQuarter?”

“No.Ha’ranimustalwaysdo work. Ha’rani must allwork in all Quarters. ButHa’ranimustdoworkunseenandunheard.”

When D’huri’s contactcame,G’hanjl askedAnya to

showher faceyet again.Thegoblins then conversed interse voices, before leavingyetagain.

“Come. Now we go toG’hurQuarter,meetJ’hatk.”

According toG’hanjl, theG’hur Quarter housed theteachers andmembers of thereligious orders in goblin

society. Often, the teachersand priestswere one and thesame.Thegatewayleadingtothe Quarter was of flawlesswhitemarble.Thedoor itselfwasconstructedofsoliddarkmahogany.

TheyenteredthegateintotheG’hurQuarter.

After Anya showed her

face to the contact and thegoblins huddled to talk, JonsettledtoobservingtheG’hurQuarter.Thestreetswerealsolaid in a strict grid pattern,and covered with dressedpavingstones.

Thissectionofthegoblinsettlement was a city ofcarved marble and granite.

Thevoicesofgoblinchildrenrang out of schools as theychanted aloud. Jonunderstooda fewsnatchesofthe Common Tongue, andmade out two or three morelanguages he couldn’trecognize. A whisperedconsultation with Anyarevealed she could only

identify a fewmore, and shewasnot fluentenough inanyof these languages to makeout what the children wereactuallychanting.

Well-dressed G’huriifemales met and chittered inthe pocket gardens thatlittered the Quarter. TheHa’rani, with their tattered

attire and relatively smallersize, stood out evenmore toJon, however hard they triedto be invisible. They sweptthe spotless streets andweeded the pocket gardens.They carriedG’hurii femalesin lavish, veiled palanquinsthat thronged the streets.They stoodon thebanks and

threw flower blossoms intothecanalthatranthroughtheQuarter. Jon supposed theHa’rani couldn’t legally usethe carved marble bridge,dotted with lavish statuary,which spanned the canal inthisQuarter.

Their conversationcompleted, G’hanjl and

J’hatk led themto theP’rabhQuarter, official residence ofthegoblingods.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREETHROUGHTHEAPPLE

WOODGATENight had fallen by the

time they reached thegateway to the P’rabhQuarter. The wooden doorwas carved with

indecipherable glyphs andshone with an iridescentglow.

“Applewood,”Anyasaid.“Thesymbolofmagic,youth,beauty, and happiness. Also,theseglyphs.”

She frowned and Jon feltAnya focusing his attentionon them. “They look

familiar.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Jon

asked.“I’m not sure, exactly.

They look like elven script,but I don’t recognize thedialect.Motherwassupposedto teach me all of them, butshepassedbeforeshehadthechance.”

“Bet youGrampaNaeemwould know,” Saul said, lipspursed. “He knowseverything.”

“Can you memorize theglyphs,” Jon said to Anya,“so you can reproduce themandwecanshowhimlater?”

She nodded withouthesitation.

“We needings tohurrying.Come.Beforeweiscaught.”G’hanjlmotioned tothegate.

Jon ignored him for themoment, and kept his eyestrained on the elegant,flowing script. Anya’s torsostiffened as she focused onmemorizing the glyphs, and

then relaxed after themysterious inscription wassafeinhermemory.

“Isthedoormagic?”Saultrailed his hands over thesmooth,fine-grainedwood.

Anya nodded. “Reeks ofmagic.Thewholeareabehindthedoor,too.”

Jon studied the area

around the gateway. All theroads in the G’hur Quarterseemed to lead to thisgateway. He spotted not asingle goblin. Not even atoken Ha’rani sweeping orcleaning.

“G’hanjl,” Jon said, “dothe G’hurii sleep early orsomething? This area is

completelydeserted.”“No one wants to come

here. Here is Apple WoodGate to P’rabh Quarter. Ishome of goblin gods.”G’hanjl fidgeted with thesleeves of his tunic andshifted his weight from onefoot to the other. He lookeddistinctly uncomfortable.

“Come, MataPerak to putyour hand on door. Toopeningit.”

Anya touched herfingertips to the door. Itswungopen,andtheysteppedintotheP’rabhQuarter.

Jonhadgottenusedtothebone-numbing cold thatcharacterized the goblin

settlement thus far. His headspun from the unexpectedwarmthoftheP’rabhQuarter.It was as if they hadwalkedinto a temperate, balmyspringnightattheOutpost.

“Thisisnotnatural.Noneof this is,” Anya muttered.She was taking in their firstglimpse of the Quarter

throughhiseyes.The P’rabh Quarter did

not resemble a city in theleast. It was a tamedwoodland. In place of neatcottages or imposing stonebuildingsweremajestic treesthattoweredtothesky.Therewereno roads.Onlywindingtrails, covered with fallen

leavesofgold,andlinedwithbloomingprimroses. Inplaceof a canal, a narrow, quick-flowing brook gurgled andchatteredoverwater-polishedpebbles that gleamed in themoonlight.Mingledscentsofprimroses and wild jasminegraced the very air itself.Eclipses of bioluminescent

moths flitted betweenfragrant, long-stemmedclusters of mysteriousglowing night-bloomingflowers.

“This is wrong. It’s allwrong,”Anyasaid.

“Who cares?” Saul threwoffhispack,cloakandpeeledoff the layers of fur

underneath. “I can feel mytoesagain.IamwarmernowthanIcanremember.”

“We’ve only been hereaboutadayor so,Saul,” Jonsaid.

“Who. Cares?” Saulrepeated, an exuberant smileonhisface.

Jon understood exactly

what Saul meant. He wasnearly overwhelmed by analmost irresistible sense ofwell-being ever since hestepped through thegateway.Morethanhehadeverknownhisentirelife,itseemed.Andfor no specific reason hecoulddiscern.

Shaking his head and

smilingatSaul, Jonbentanddug his fingers through thespringgrass,togettothesoilunderneath.He peered at theclumps of dirt in his hand,andthencrumbledthemwithhis fingers. Rich, coffee-ground dark, moist, andwarm. His smile faded.Why’d they bother trying to

cultivate in the T’hanyQuarter, when cultivatinghere would likely yield twiceasmuchwithhalf the effort?He turned to Anya inpuzzlement, and sensed onlyoutrage mingled withforeboding.Anyadirectedhiseyesupatthestar-strewnsky.Jon’s breath caught in his

throat when he realized thathecouldnot identifyasingleconstellation—not one—despite his best efforts andthe months he spent underGeoff’s tutelage, solely tomemorizeconstellations.

“Even the stars arewrong,”Anyasaid.

Meanwhile, Saul was

laughing and doingcartwheels on the grass, hiscloak and furs lay in anabandoned heap. Jon’s senseof uneasemelted away as hebroke out in a smile. Healmosttoreoffhisowncloakandfurstojoinhischildhoodfriend,whenhesensedaflashof warning from Anya.

G’hanjl and J’hatk werestanding to the side, withsmiles on their faces. Theywere calmly chatting andwatching Saul’s antics. Jonwasstruckbyhow,uptothispoint, they had been almostparanoid about staying quiet.Stayingunseen.

“Something in the air.”

Anya scowled. “Even the airisenchanted.”

“Well,what canwe do?”Jon said. “We can’t stopbreathing.”

“No,”Anyasaid.“Butwecanbewaryofitseffects.”

Her head snapped up,eyeswidewith alarm. “GrabSaul. Someone’s coming. A

lotofsomeones.”Jon dashed toward Saul.

He bent to scoop up Saul’sdiscarded pack, cloak, andfurs and tackledhis friend inmid-cartwheel. He clappedhishandoverSaul’sprotests,shushinghimintosilence.HepulledSaulbehindaclumpofbushes. Anya grabbed

G’hanjl and J’hatk by theirelbows,steeredthemtowardsthe same clump of bushes,then pushed themdown. Sheglaredthemallintosilence.

In the quiet that ensued,Jon detected what Anya’smoresensitiveearspickedupearlier. The muffleddrummingofbootedfeetand

faintjinglingofscaledarmor.Jon peeked through thebushes and watched fourD’hadhii, in full militarydress, escort a scraggly lineofHa’ranichildren.Heheardasharp intakeofbreathfromG’hanjl and, from the cornerof his eye, glimpsed G’hanjlclap his hand over his own

mouth.These were unlike the

bandofHa’raniJonobservedby the banks of the canalearlier. They giggled andkicked at the drifts of fallenleaves. The leaves scatteredandfellallover inagloriousshowerof gold.The childrenpicked fragrant primroses,

sniffed them, and tucked theblossoms into the holes ineach other’s tattered clothes.TheHa’rani children seemedhappy.Theylaughed,skippedand sang their merry way,paying little to no mind totheir D’hadhii escorts. Eachof them had a jaunty silkribbon tied around their

necks.Ribbonsofbrightfuchsia.They waited a few

moments after the band ofgoblins faded from viewbeforerisingfrombehindthebushes.

“What was that?” Saulasked.

“They’re leading those

children somewhere,” Jonsaid.“Where?”

“And you recognize atleastoneofthem,”Anyasaid.

G’hanjl nodded. “Is myyoungest sister.” He reachedinto his pockets thenproduced a small, stopperedclay vial and several squaresof tattered fabric.He opened

the vial and shook a drop ofevil-smellingmuckontoeachsquareoffabric.

“G’hanjl is not to beknowing where they go.D’hadhii say theyoffering togoblin gods.” He gave onehandkerchieftoeachofthem.“All G’hanjl know is theyleaveaschildren.Theycome

backasbones.Nooneknowsmorethanthat.”

Jon felt a wave ofsympathy, followed by coldfury,rushthroughhim.Anya.

“We’ll stop this,” Anyasaid. “We’ll get you awayandstopthis.”

Jon studied Anya’s stonyface. “You suspect

something,don’tyou?”Anyawavedherhandsat

their surroundings. “All this?All the magic required tocreate and sustain this…this…frivolous nonsense?Well,itrequiresenergy.Alotof energy. Life force energy.Notice how they were allchildren?” Her face twisted

withacombinationofdisgustand rage. She turned toG’hanjl. “You were right.They are going to eat yoursister. To eat all of them.They will suck all the lifeforce out of them. The waythey sucked the life out ofthatpuppy.Andtheywillusetheir life force to feed this…

stupidvanity!”Jon caught the panic on

Saul’s face. They bothremembered the time whenshenearlylosthertemper.

“Anya,” Jon said,struggling to keep his voicecalm. “I understand yourreaction,andIagree.Butthisis, perhaps, not the best time

forashowdown?”“Yeah,” Saul said. “Let’s

just get to where we aresupposed to go and get theHa’rani out. Then they’llhavetostop,right?”

“FatWatcherstoberight,MataPerak,” G’hanjl said.“Weneedstobegoingnow.”Hemotionedtothesquareof

handkerchief he gave her.“Use good medicine G’hanjlgaveyou.Afterthat,wego.”

“Whatarewesupposedtodo with this?” Saul held upone corner of hishandkerchief with a thumbandforefinger.

“Youbreathein.”G’hanjlthen demonstrated its use.

“Goodmedicine.”Saul started to mimic

G’hanjl,andthenrearedawayfromthefoul-smellingrag.

“Thissmellsawful,”Saulsaid, between bouts ofgagging and dry-heaves.“Whatisit?”

“Dogliver,”G’hanjlsaid,his voice muffled under his

handkerchief. “Five monthsdead.Atleast.”

Anya tied the fabricaroundherhead,coveringhernose and mouth. “Itcounteracts the spell ofeuphoria in the air. Stopcomplainingandjustdoit.”

With reluctance, Jon tiedthefabricaroundhishead,as

Anya did, and motioned atSaultodothesame.Afterthefew moments it took for hissense of smell to shut down,henotedachangeinhimself.A marked decrease in thegiddy euphoria that earliertempted him to cartwheelalongsideSaul.HeglancedatSaul and saw a new sobriety

inhisfriend’sblue-greyeyes.“Better?”G’hanjlsaid.Theboysnodded.“See? Good medicine.”

G’hanjl returned the vial tohispockets.“Come.Wego.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOURGENERALD’HOREKGeneralD’horekstoodup

fromhischairandlookedoutof his second floor studywindow to the street in frontof his palatial home. Hislarge, callused hands rested

onhisdesk,currently litteredwith official correspondenceand confidential reports. Hesighed, unable to stop hisattention drift from the streetoutside back to the uselessstack of notarized pedigreepapers.

Yes.That.He sighed again, and

forced himself to study thescene outside hiswindow.AHa’rani, polishing the brassgate of the cemetery acrossthe way, had his cleaningsupplies strewn too close tothe middle of the sidewalk.D’horek gave a small tch ofannoyance. There’s anaccident waiting to happen.

Hebrieflyconsideredsendinga servant out to warn theHa’rani, and then dismissedthe notion as sentimentalnonsense.

They need to learn. Nosensecoddlingthem.

He returned to frowningatthepilesofpedigreepapersofeligiblefemales.Givingin

totheinevitable,hesatdownandpulledpaperstowardhimyet again. So close. He wasso close to earning the rightto breed another child. AchildoftheD’hadhucaste.Ason. It would have been ason. He knew, in his soul, itwouldhavebeenason.Asontoinheriteverything.Asonto

carryon thenameandproudtraditionsofhisfamily.

His hand clenched into amassive fist and slammedinto the cherry wood desk.The fool D’hibuk. To beoutwittedbyahuman.Andanimmaturehuman,atthat.

D’horek rose from hischair and paced the study.

Not only did theMataPeraksliphisgrasp,shefellintothehands of theWatchers.BlastD’hibuk to all the hounds ofHell. The Watchers, of allpeople.Ourmostancientandhated enemy. They wouldnever let her go. He wouldneverhavethischanceagain.

Andhewouldneverhave

ason.Sounds came. A

disturbance outside hismanse. D’horek glanced outthe window. Tch. A pair ofD’hadhii stepped over adying Ha’rani. See whathappens when you coddlethem?Theyforgettheirplace,get themselves killed, and

leave a mess while the workremainsundone.

Annoyed,D’horekstalkedto the mantle above thefireplacenexttohisdeskandreached for an ornate silverbell. He shook it gently,twice.Hurriedfootstepsfrombehindtheclosedstudydoor,muffled by the costly carpet

onthestonefloor.Adiscreetknock, followed by theentrance of a subservientHa’rani,readytotakeorders.Orders given to clean up themessacrossthestreetandthegate.No reasonD’horek hadtostareatadirtygatebecausesome fool Ha’rani was toostupidtostayaliveanddohis

job.He turned away, ready to

dismiss the Ha’rani, whenmoreurgentmurmursreachedhis ears. A visitor, a specialvisitor, awaited his pleasure.D’horekordered thecaller tobeshowninaftertenminutes.Murmurs of assent, then thegentlesnickofthestudydoor

closing.Whichoneishe?D’horek sat in his chair

andtookthetimetocomposehimself.

Anotherdiscreetknock,asupplicant appeared. Afamiliar supplicant. With apinchedface,ragsforclothes,and the unmistakable stench

of the Ha’ran Quarter.Subdued murmurs revealedinteresting newdevelopments. A coin tossedon the rug. Grubby handsscrabbled for the metallicglint. A corner of D’horek’smouth lifted in acontemptuoussneer.Filth forthe filthy. A curt dismissal.

Obsequious apologies andfarewells. The study door,gentlyclosing.

Snick.D’horek got up and

resumed pacing. TheMataPerak.Here.Inthecity.Withinmygrasp.

A smile emerged onD’horek’s bestial face. That

fool D’hibuk was good forsomethingafterall.Hepulledsomebooks from the shelvesthat lined the study wallacrossfromthefireplace,andthrew them on his desk. Heopenedandporedover them,hismind,racing.

Restart the SouthernCampaign.

The avenues forclandestine infiltration intotheContinentwerealreadyinplace. There were many ill-guarded passes through themountains,nottomentionthewarrens of secret tunnelspainstakingly built over thecenturies. D’hibuk and hissquadhadusedthesetoenter

Watcher territories,undetected, and hunt for theMataPerak.

D’horek’s breath grewragged in anticipation. Thenthere are the sea routes atour disposal. According tohis sources, the Watcherfleetsweredownrightpunyincomparison to the goblin

fleets. While Watcher forceshadgrownsoftandlaxinthecenturies of peace, goblinmilitary forces had grownstronger. Much stronger.They were poised and readyto resume war on theWatcher-controlledContinent.

We’d already have the

Watchers crushed under ourfeet and the entire world inour grasp, if not for the foolG’hurii and their bleatinginsistence of a guaranteedvictory.

However, if he capturedtheMataPerak, noonecouldstophim fromrestarting, andwinning, the infamous

SouthernCampaign.D’horek flipped through

the pages of the tome onheraldryata franticpace.Hefound the place in the bookwhere a page had been tornout. His heart raced withexcitement and eagerspeculation. Every existingcopy of this book had this

exact page torn out andburned. The SouthernCampaign, which took placeover a thousand years ago atthe behest of the godsthemselvesandledbyoneofhis ancestors, ended inignominiousdefeat.

This torn page depictedhisancestralcoatofarms.

They had theMataPerakon their side then, and theywere winning. The goblinvanguardreachedall thewayto the Achillean Peninsula,theliving,beatingheartofthehated Watchers. The proudemblem on this page wouldhavebeenborneonnumerousfluttering pennants that

fateful day, emblazoned onthe chest plates of thousandsofD’hadhiitroopers.

Theystoodonthecuspofultimate victory over theirancient enemy, when theywerestabbedintheback.TheG’hurii, claiming the godshad announced their decree,calledfortheimmediatemass

retreatofallgoblinforces.Withdisastrousresults.His ancestor never

abandoned the MataPerak’sside. The MataPerak,grieving at the massive lossofliferendereduselessbytheG’hurii’sorder,lostcontrol.

The AchilleanArchipelago, consisting of

tens of thousands of islands,now stood where thePeninsula once was. TherewerenoknownsurvivorsandD’horek’s now infamousancestor was never heardfrom again. His many timesgreat-grandfather,stillababein arms, was left an orphan.His family’s reputation, in

ruins. The proud emblem,which for centuries stood forhonor, valor, and glory,struck from all records. Anemblemthatwashis,byrightofbirthandrank.

It took this long for hisfamily to reclaim some oftheir losthonor.All this timeto offset the stain of

descending from the BattleCommander in charge of theworst military defeat in theannalsofgoblinhistory.

Now,hehadthepowertoturn everything back to thewaythingsshouldhavebeen.This time, when theMataPerakfellintohisgrasp,he’d ensure she would

imprintontheD’hadhucaste.She would never come intocontact with the traitorousG’hurcaste.Rulesbehanged.Let the G’hurii sheep bleattheir protests and lodge theircomplaints. With theMataPerak in his hands, hecould attempt anything hewanted, and still do no

wrong.She might have already

imprinted on others, but allhisreportsstatedshewasstillyoung. No more than onehundredandfifty,maybetwohundred years old, at most.There are ways to bypassprevious imprints. AndD’horekwouldensurethere-

imprinting processwould getall the resources and time itneeded.

Yes.Restart,andwin,theSouthern Campaign. Withhimself as Supreme BattleCommander. It wouldcomplete what his ancestorstarted, and give him all thebreedingrightshecouldever

want.Hewouldnotjustbreedone son. He would breedmany sons. A multitude ofsons.

D’horek leaned back inhis chair, steepled handsresting on hismuscled chest,pondering the question: nowor later?Movingnowwouldcatch the MataPerak

unaware, and therefore havethe greater likelihood ofsuccess. Moving later wouldmeanahigherriskoffailure,but would net him most, ifnotall,ofthehereticHa’rani.

Later.NettingtheHa’ranihereticsmightearnhimearlybreeding rights. His littlemolewouldkeep themunder

controlinthemeantime.Afterall,itwouldbenice

to exercise some of thoserights before he left for theSouthernCampaign.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

RUMINATIONNaeemandtherestofthe

grumps pulled their headsaway from the ornate silverbasin at the sound of thestudydoorswingingopen.

“Come away from that

thereandeatsomefin’.”Gretapushed a trolley laden withfoodintothecandle-litstudy.“Geoff, get us some morechairs? There’s a love.” Shepushed the basin to the sideand unloaded the contents ofher cart onto the circulartable. “Come on then, don’tmakemetellyoutwice.”

WhileGeofflefttheroomin search ofmore chairs, therestofthegrumpsfilledtheirplates with food arrayed onthe table. They knew betterthan to argue with Greta.Only Naeem remainedpensiveanddistant,pacinginfront of the wooden bureaubeside the open study

window.“Thoseglyphswereelven

script,”Artisaid, toyingwithherfood.

“Yes,butwhichdialect?”Geoff deposited the chairsandrushedovertothespindlytable. Tapping his bluntfingertips on the table, hefrowned over the odd

lettering he had franticallycopied down only momentsago. “And what do theymean?”

“Whocares?”Karin said,unconsciouslymimickingherson’s words. “Goblinshaven’t been seen in over athousandyears.Elveshaven’tbeenseenforatleasttwiceas

long. I say we get them outnow.”

“Thoseglyphs, theywerein the dialect of the Drow.Dark elves.” Naeem staredout the window, his handsclaspedbehindhisback.

“Drow?” Karin’s voiceroseinpanic.“Wetrulyhavetogetthem.Rightnow.”

Artisetdownherplateofhalf-eaten food and bit herlip, her brows furrowedwithindecision. Logan knew herwell enough to guess theturmoil raging within—thebattle between her firstinstinct, to protect the cubs,andkeepinghersolemnwordnottointerfere.

“But they’re not in anyimmediate danger now,Karin,” Logan said. “Therationale for not stepping instillholds.”

“Can you translate theelven script, Dad? Youmusthave something which cantell us what those wordsmean.” She got up from her

armchair and headed straightfor Naeem’s wall of books.“Which references should Ipullout?”

Naeem continued to stareoutofthewindowinsilence.

“Dad!”NaeemturnedtoArti.“Whichreferencesshould

Ipullout?”

“No need. I know whatthey mean.” Naeem sighed.“Welcome ye fortunate, yeblessed.Welcometotwilight,everlasting. Welcome to thyrest,eternal.”

LoganheardKaringasp.“I don’t care what you

say.” Karin rose from herarmchair. “We get them and

wegetthemnow.”Geoff grabbed her waist

andheldher.“No.”Hepulledher close. “We made apromise. And he’s not inimmediatedanger.”

Karin twisted in his armsand then pushed him away,her eyes wild. “Your fault.”She backed away from him.

“Thisisallyourfault.”“Karin, you’re not being

fair. I don’t want this either.He’smy son too. I love himtoo.”

Karin advanced on himand beat her fists against hischest. “You push him toohard. You’ve always pushedhim toohard.”Geoff tried to

pinherarmsandholdher,butshe whirled away. “He’s notyou, Geoff. Don’t youunderstand?He’salwaystriedso hard to please you. Tomake you proud.And it wasnever enough, was it?Neverenough. Now see whatyou’vedrivenhimtodo.”

“Karin—”Geoffsaid.

“No.No.Enough.You’vesaid enough. You’ve doneenough. If anything happenstohim.Ifanythinghappenstomylittlecub…Iswear,byallthat is holy, I will neverforgiveyou.Andyou’dbetterrun far and fast, because Iwillspend therestofmy lifehunting you down. Do you

understand me, GeoffreyGuntherson?”

“Karin, things won’tcometothat.”Naeemsteppedbetweenthecouple.“Myonlygrandsonisalsointhis.Uponmywordofhonor,thingswillnotcometothat.Iwillseetoit.”

“Are you making a

solemnoath,oldman?”Naeem stared at Karin

dead in the eye. “I give youmy solemn oath, as aWatcher.”

Greta glanced at the pairandthensteppedin,clucking.“Come then, my love.” Shetook Karin’s elbow, and sather back down. “Now you

just sit here, nice and quietlike,andArti’llgetusanicecuppa tea.” She wavedfuriouslyatArti,whojumpedup fromher seat and ran outof thestudy.Gretapickedupthesilverbasin,satherselfinthe other armchair, andplaced the basin next to herbootedfeet.“Therestofyou,

eat.Thisiswhatcomesofnoteatin’reg’lar.”

“But the children—”Logansaid.

“I’llkeepaneyethemfora bit while you put somefin’solid inside you. And you’dbettergeteatin’.Youtoo,youcrazyole fool,”Greta said toNaeem. “‘Less you want me

tospoon-feedyou?”****

Jon kept his thoughtscarefullyblankwhilewaitingfor his friends, Anya inparticular,tofallasleep.Aftermeeting their contact in theP’rabh Quarter, they decidedto spend the night there.G’hanjl said this was the

safest possible option. Theother Quarters would becrawling with guards, whileno one entered the P’rabhQuarter. At least, notwillingly. He said they’d besafe, as long as they keptwatch. J’hatk drew firstwatch.Jonwastorelievehiminabouttwohours.

Still keeping his thoughtsblank, Jon waited a littlewhilelonger.WhenhesensedAnya dropping off intogenuine, restful sleep, he gotup,noddedtoJ’hatk,andthenwalkedalittlewayaway.Hehad no idea if proximityplayed a factor in Anya’sreaching.

Butbettersafethansorry.Sitting cross-legged, his

back against a tree trunk, helifted his grandfather’sbloodstone pendant frominside his shirt and held thestone up against themoonlight. It twisted backand forth on its chain,alternately beckoning and

mockinghim.There are too many of

them.Joncasthisthoughtsback

to what he saw during theday. The Ha’rani easilyoutnumbered the other castesby asmuch as ten to one. Ifeven half that number choseto go… Jon glanced at his

sleepingfriends.Anyacurledin a fetal position, with onearm covering her head, asthough protecting herselffrom the night itself. Saulsnored on his back, spread-eagled, and taking up asmuchroomashecould.

They’llexpectmetocomeup with a plan. They always

do. A trace of annoyance,mingled with pride woundtheirwaythroughhisheart.Ialways come up with theplan. If it were up to them,whatwouldtheydo?

Jon imagined Anyaleadingacrazed,andsuicidal,Ha’rani crusade against theother castes. Saul’s plan

would likely be muchsimpler.Somethingalong thelines of running pell-melltowardtheportalcavern.

And me? What would Ido?

Jon bit his lip, drew hislegsup, and laidhisheadonhisknees.

The odds are not good.

No,worsethanthat.Theoddsarehorrible.

The Ha’rani were ill-equipped and ill-trained.Theyhadbeenconditionedtoobey since birth. Also, therewere so many of them. Theprobability of sensitiveinformation leaking out, andhence discovery, was

astronomical.Despite what he told his

friends, he’d relived hisnightmaremorethanonce.

The warm splashdrenching his arm after hemade that first stab. Theshockofbrightorangegoblinblooddripping fromhisarm.The shudder of a living

creature’s final breath. Andthe expression of terror onthenextgoblin’sface.Nooneevergavehimalooklikethatbefore.Thelookofutterfear.

He studied the pendantagain,wondering if he daredto consider seriously whathad been simmering at theback of his mind. His gaze

drifted back to his friends’sleepingforms.This time,hewondered if the bloodwouldbebrightred.Thistime,ifhegot the plan wrong, hisfriends would be the onesbleeding. He wondered if hewould feel the final shuddersoftheirdyingbreaths.

His vow. His plan. His

responsibility.My promise was to keep

themsafe.He never actually

promised to complete themission. Did Saul or Anyarealizeitthough?

Probablynot.He should call for help.

He knew he should.Only, if

hedid,wouldhisfriendseverforgive him?Which was thebetteroption?Tolosetheminwhat was probably a suicidemission, undertaken withtheir blessings? Or ask forhelp thus breaking hispromise,althoughtheywouldprobablyneverforgivehim?

Ilosethemeitherway.

Jon marveled at Anya’sresilience.Tobealone,forsolong. He and Saul had beenfriends virtually since birth.Jon could not imagine lifewithout Saul’s company. OrwithoutAnya’scompany, forthatmatter.

No. Jon tucked thependant back into his shirt.

Not unless things becometrulydire.AndIhavetomakesure it never comes to that.Somehow.

Jonlookedupandstudiedthe drifts of clouds floatingacross the night sky, brieflyobscuring themoon.An ideadawnedinhismind.

Iwonder…

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIXTHEMEETING

He glanced around the

roomwithheavy-liddedeyes.Through the gloomy interiorof themound,hewasable tojust about make out theheretic sitting in the middle,

spouting treasonous poisonfor all to hear. Arrayedaround the heretic were fiveother Ha’rani goblins, notcountinghimself.

Heclosedhiseyes,leanedbackagainst the interiorwallof the earth mound, and letthe words wash over him.TheMataPerak and the two

immature human males satacrossfromhim,ontheotherside.Hisnosewrinkledatthestench pervading the Ha’ranQuarter. The fragrance ofrosesandwater liliesscentedtheGeneral’sgracioushome.This pigsty stank ofexcrementandrottedmeat.

Sixyears.He’dworkedas

theGeneral’seyesandearsinthe Ha’ran Quarter for sixyears now. He wasn’t theonly spy the General had.Yet, hewas among themostvaluable. The Ha’rani goeverywhere, do everythingand hear everything. Andwhatever they hear, they tellhim.

And whatever they tellhim,well….

Most times, he was paidin gold. Always useful. Buthis preferred currency wasalways advancement for hischildren. Over the course ofsixyears, twoofhischildrenhadescapedthelivingmiserythat came with being born

into the Ha’ran caste. Theyhadbeen adopted, and raisedas T’hanii. Unlike theHa’rani, they’d need to earnbreedingrights.Butthey’dbespared scrabbling for foodand shelter and the agony ofwatching their babies die forlack of simplemedicines.Atleast some of his

grandchildren would neverhave to risk entering theAppleWoodGate.

He opened his eyes andwatched the three non-goblins.Theimmaturehumanmales would likely enter theAppleWoodGateagain.Thistime,nevertoleave.Tendrilsof guilt twisted and bloomed

inside him. These malehuman younglings also haveparents. Parents who wouldgrieve for them. Much likehe’d grieved for the loss ofhis own younglings. Hequickly squashed the twingesof guilt before it choked hisresolve.Hisfirst loyaltieslaywith his family. Next, to the

goblin nation. Finally, to thegoblin gods. He owed thehumanyounglingsnothing.

Someonewascallinghim.“Are you listening?” the

heretic asked. Kindly. Indeference of his age, hesupposed.He forced a smile,andnodded.

“So we meet by the

frozen lake, outside the citylimits, where the harlequinducks go. Tomorrow, atmidnight. Wear as muchwhite as possible. And bringsupplies. Enough for twodays, at least.” The hereticturned to the MataPerak.“MataPerak will become athick mist, to shield us from

the prying eyes of theD’hadhu and T’hany castes.Thenwegototheportalcaveundetected.”

He nodded his head.Tomorrow at midnight. Hewould need to make anothersecret trip to the General’smanse. Maybe with this, hecould negotiate the

advancement of anotherchild.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

BETRAYEDTheyhadbeenwaitingby

the lake since nightfall. TheHa’rani arrived in dribs anddrabs, huddling in small,scattered groups by massiveboulders at the rocky shore.

Jon glanced at the moonlitsky. He fought hard to keephis face impassive.Tobetraynone of his growing anxiety.Panic would serve none buttheenemy.

Notmuchlongernow.His gaze flicked around

the groups of goblins, andrested on Saul, chatting with

G’hanjl. He crouched, andsensedatickleofamusementfrom Anya, the snow-whitearctic fox with silvered eyesbeside him. She focused hisattention on the telltaleorange, salmon-berry juicestains on Saul’s cheeks andmouth.Hebrokeintoasmile.

Hisfirst,thatwholeday.

“Someone should tellhim,” he said to the fox.“Don’t you think?” Anyalookedintohiseyes,chuffed,and then turned away. Hermeaningwasclear.No.Muchfunnierthisway.

Anya turned towards thegoblincity,herearsandnosetwitching.

“What is it?” Jon rosefrom his haunches, suddenlyalert. He peered into thegloom, but observed nothingout of the ordinary. Anyaclearly heard and smelledsomething. She paddedtowards the gloom, stopped,andturnedaround.

“Right. I’m coming.” Jon

trottedtocatchuptoher.As they left the main

group, Jon felt his eyes dartover odd silhouettes inshifting, moonlit shadows.This is how she sees. Shapesand pools of darkness thatcould veil threats. Shestopped, sniffed the air, andgrowled.

Right.Jon tookadeepbreathof

thechill,arcticair,strivingtodifferentiate the subtlymingled scents of the nightair. He sensed Anya’s surgeofexasperation.

Listen,I’mhuman.Idon’thave a fox’s nose for—Thenhe caught it. The faintest

tracesofcopper.Blood.Anya snorted, and trotted

aheadinpursuitofthestench.Jon unsheathed the Slayerand followed. His eyesfocusedonanirregularlump,half-hidden by the shadows.It almost looked like anotherboulder, alternately wreathed

in darkness and moonlight.Thenitmoved.

There.Theysprintedtowardsthe

form. It was D’huri. He wassupposed to escort the lastgroups of Ha’rani. Joncrouchedandheld thegoblinup. D’huri’s left arm hungfromhistorsoatanawkward

angle and his right armclasped tight around hismiddle. His white cloakdripped with wet, orangeroses.

“Is to be traitor,” D’hurisaid through his split,bleeding lips.“You is to run.Ortoolate.”

Jon turned to Anya.

“Warn the others and getgoing. Now.” As he turnedback to adjust his grip onD’huri’s back, his eardrumspopped. He glanced up andsaw Anya, in the shape of abat,wingherwaybacktotheothers.

“Come, D’huri. Let mehelpyou.”

“Istoolate,FatWatcher.”D’huri let his right arm dropaway. Jon’s eyes widened atthe hideous gash across thegoblin’s belly. Fresh rosettesof orange bloomed asD’huristruggled to wrap his cloakaroundhismiddle.

“No. I am not leavingyou.”Jonstruggledtoliftthe

goblintohisfeet.Ungentleinhis haste, D’huri began tocoughandchoke.Jonfrozeinplace, afraid of hurting thelittle goblin further. LiquidorangebubbledatthecornersofD’huri’smouth.Jonwipedthem away with utmostgentleness, leaving orangestreaks across the goblin’s

lips and cheeks. Streaks thatreminded him of the berrystains on Saul’s face. Jonsensed a surge of fear andforeboding. She’s stillsharingmyeyes. Jon’s handsflewtothebloodstone.

“FatWatcher, go. D’huritoslowthem.”

“Butyoucanbarely—”

“Go!” D’huri roared. Hesomehow found the strengthto pull himself up. Moreorange roses blossomedagainst the white around hiswaist. Picking up a rock,D’huriturnedhisbacktoJonand assumed the fighter’sstance.

Stumbling,Jonturnedand

ran back to the frozen lake,hishandclaspedtightaroundhis grandfather’s bloodstonependant.TheimageofSaul’sberry-stained face hauntedhimthewholeway.

****Joncameuponasceneof

chaos. Anya stood next toSaul,whowasbarkingorders

togetallthegoblinsreadytogo. He ran towards hisfriends, the bloodstonebouncingonhischest.

“D’huri—?”Anyasaid.Jonshookhishead.Grief

flitted briefly across Anya’sface, before hardening intofury.

“Not the time, Anya.”

Jon’s hand flew to thebloodstonependant.

“No, Jon.” Saul slappedhis friend’s hand away.“We’renotdoingthat.We’vegonetoofar.Donetoomuch.We don’t need the grumps.Wecandothis.”

Jonfoundhimselffocusedon the berry stains, still on

Saul’s earnest face. Anya’sfear joinedhisown,bleedinginto him. Shewas still usinghiseyes.

Heturnedtoher.“Well?”“Fat Watchers,

MataPerak. We go. Now,”G’hanjl said.Hewasmakinghis way to them, with a fewother goblins in tow. The

other goblins were makingtheirwaytotheportalcavern.

Anyaputherhandsonherfriends’ shoulders. “I swear,on my soul, I won’t letanythinghappentoyou.”

“Fat Watchers.” G’hanjlmadeSaulclimbon thebackof one of the goblins, andtheyspedaway.

Her hand still on Jon’sshoulder,Anyapulledhimina quick hug, her lips next tohisear.

“IfIfall,useit,”shesaidin a barely audible whisper.She pulled away, and Joncaught a glimpse of herhauntedeyes.

Berrystains.

Henodded.“We go.” G’hanjl’s

impatiencewaspalpable.Theyclimbedontheother

goblins’ backs, beforespeedingawayintothedark.

****The night passed in a

flurry of blind panic andjumbled images. Behind

them,weaker, slowergoblinswho had given up the madrace for the cavern draggedthemselves to the middle ofthetrail.Theywouldbuytheother goblins time. Aprecious commodity theywerepreparedtopayforwithwreaths of orange roses. Jonobserved the faintest streaks

oflightfromtheeast.Thesunwasrising.Ablood-reddawnapproached.

Jon fingered hisgrandfather’spendant.

“Jon, no!” Saul pointedahead.“We’realmostthere.”

Jon looked up when heheardSaul’ssuddenintakeofbreath. Standing between

them and the mouth of theportal cavern were massedranks of D’hadhii troopers.Their battle armor gleamedgold and orange in the lightoftheearlydawn.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHTTHESHOWDOWNJon climbed down from

the goblin’s back, his mouthagape.

“Whodidthis?Who’ddothis to their ownkind?”Saulsaid,raging.

Jon glanced at the groupofpantingHa’rani,andnotedaconspicuousabsence.

“J’hatk,” Anya said, herlipscurlingincontempt.

Eyeing the hundreds ofD’hadhii in their way, Jonheld the bloodstone with thethumb and forefinger of hisrighthand.“Bloodtoblood,I

need you; Blood from bloo—”

Anya slapped his handaway. “I’m still here. Wait‘till I’m dead before you dothat.” She dropped her packand turned her back on him.“Holdontomyshoulders.”

Jon put his hands on herslendershoulders.“Wha—?”

“Tighter,”Anya snapped,stiffening her frame.“Whateverhappens,don’t letgo. You’ll fall off.” Sheturned to Saul and G’hanjl.“Tellthemtobackoff.Gettoa safe distance.” Herbreathinggrewlabored.Jon’seyes widened as her slightshoulders lengthened and

thickened.“Iamgoingtoneedroom.

Alotofroom.”****

“Dad,wegetthemnow.”Arti pulled away from thesilverbasin.Sheadjusted thestraps of herWatcher armor,beforeturningtoherhusband.“Logan,willyoupleasehand

metheTwins?”Loganhesitated.Heknew

oncehehandedArtiher twindaggers, there’d be noholdingherback.Heglancedat the others for approval.Geoff nodded as he checkedhis pouches, filledwith spellcomponents. Karinunsheathed her scimitar in

eloquentsilence.“No,” Naeem said. His

face remained expressionlessas he studied the swirlingdepths.

“Dad, look at whatthey’refacing.It’ssuicide.”

“You swore to me, oldman,” Karin said in a soft,lethal voice.The edge of her

scimitar glinted in themorninglight.

“Just look,” Naeem said,headstillbentoverthebasin.“Thisiswhyweneedcyrionsinourranks.”

****Anya’s rage had built

fromthemomentshesteppedinto theHa’ranQuarter,eons

ago, itnowseemed.Shewasready to unleash it. Shebarely heard her friends’startledgaspsasher legsandarms thickened.Her faceandspine elongated, her teethlengthened, while massive,iridescent-green wingssprouted from her back. Herperspective changed as she

grew taller, much taller thaneverbefore.Thestinkoftheirfearwasdivineperfume.

Puny creatures. Cower.Flee.

She swung her massive,spiked tail, crushing a goodthird of the goblins into therock face. Their screams,exquisite symphony to her

ears. Their blood andmangled bodies brought herunparalleled joy. This waswhatitmeanttobecyrion.

To be the ultimatepredator.

She stretched her scaledneck to the sky, screamingbothherexultationinthekilland her challenge to the

world. Anya lowered herheadandsnappedatonessheidentified as ‘evil’. The onesin gold and orange. Sherelishedthebittercoppertastein her mouth and on hertongue as their bodies burstagainst razor teeth. She spattheirremnantsout,beforeshebreathedin,feelingthegasses

combine into somethinglethalinside.Thensheblewaviciousbluejetattheremainsofthegoblinarmy.Thescentoffearvaporized,replacedbythearomaofcharredmeat.

She screamed hertriumph, riding high on pureadrenaline. On the kill. Shehopedformore.

Thisissomuchfun. She spotted more

D’hadhii troopers comingtheir way. Her silveredreptilian eyes glittered insavage joy. She’d slaughterthem all. No surrender, nomercy. She bent her head,inhaled again, and spewedforth a longer, bigger jet of

blue flame. More screams.Musictoherears.

There was anunexplained weakness in herleft foreleg. She barelynoticedthecoldbefore,notinher dragon form. But itsuddenly got colder. Muchcolder. She shrugged it off.She’d worry about the cold

later,whenshehadtime.Shebraced herself for the nextroundofcombat,evenasshefought the sluggishnesssweeping through her.Shaking her massive head,she swatted more D’hadhiitroopers with her tail. Moreblood and broken bodieslittered the trail. But not

enough. More were coming.She lowered her head andblew yet more blue flame.Onlythistime,herflamewastingedwithyellowandred.

Somethingiswrong.****

General D’horek studiedthe scene from atop a smallhill near the portal cavern, a

satisfied smile on his lips.They’d reacted just as he’danticipated.Ablind,panickedrun, followed by theMataPerak shifting into oneof her more lethalincarnations.

The small cyrion shiftedinto an immature, femaledragon. Her green iridescent

scales flashed in themorninglight as she lashed hermassive tail, sweeping a fullthird of his forces into therock face. He turned to hissubordinate and nodded hisconfirmation to send inmorereinforcements. They’rechattelanyway.

He caught sight of the

cyrion breathing flames onthe remnantsofhismen,andhis smile grew wider. Firebreathing demanded evengreater energy expenditure.He should encourage her todo so more often. GeneralD’horek waved his hand,impatient to summon yetmorereinforcements.

He was willing to throwall the armed goblins underhis command at her. It wasonly a matter of time beforeheworeherdown.Although,shewas going through themrather too quickly for hisliking.

He frowned, motioned athis subordinate to approach,

andthentoldhimtosendoutevery available D’hadhiitrooper from the Citadel.Immediately.Thesubordinatenodded, and scurried off.GeneralD’horek turned backtoenjoythespectacle.

****Anya swept her tail and

blewherlastjetofflame.The

waywasclear.It’s too cold. Much too

cold.She lowered her head so

her friend could get back onthe ground, where he’d besafe.Safefromher.Safefromwhatever came next. Sheswiped her tail against sometrees,knockingthemdownto

block the trail. To slowenemyreinforcements.

She stretched her headandscreamedonelasttime.

Then everything wentdark.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

HEROJon concentrated on

gripping what used to beAnya’s shoulders—two bonyridges atop an iridescentgreen dragon’s head. Heclamped his legs around her

as firmly as he could, afraidhemightflyoffthenexttimeshe swung to breathe fire onthe D’hadhii troopers, orsweep themwithher tail.Hewas developing a headacheand nausea from both thesudden way she moved andthewaysheshiftedhisvisionwherever shewanted.But he

knewbetter thantofighther.Headacheandnauseaitis,hesighed.Saulwasthrowingupbythesideofthetrail.

“Saul! When the way isclear, lead the goblinsthrough!”

“What?” Saul wiped hismouth with his sleeve, hisface,pale.

Jon knew his voice waslost amidst the high windsandclamorofbattle.

Hewaited for a brief lullin the battle, after Anyaburned,smacked,ortrampledthe D’hadhii troopers, andbefore the arrival of freshreinforcements.

When the moment came,

he turned toSaul. “Get themtotheportal!Now!”

Saulnoddedand,togetherwith G’hanjl, herded theremnants of the Ha’ranirefugeesintotheportalcave.

“We can’t go throughwithoutyou,”Saulsaid.

Jonfelthiseyes focusonthe distance—fresh troops.

Headedtheirway.“Get there first, and be

ready to go.” Jon tensed toready himself for the nextbout,whenhesensedAnya’smentalpresencefalter.

What’shappening?Brows furrowed, he

turned toSaul. “Gonow. I’llfigureitout.”

Saul nodded, and headedinside the cavern with theothers.

Jon bent closer. “What’swrong, my friend? Whathappened?”

Anya lowered her headand Jon climbed to theground.

“What are you doing?

You still needme.More arecoming!”

****General D’horek laughed

aloudwhen he noted the redand yellow tints in thecyrion’s flame, a clearindication of her depletingenergy reserves. Thoughtlessyounglings. There’s no way

thecyrioncouldmaintainherreptilian dragon form in thefrozen tundra. Especially notwhile expending such vastamountsofenergy.

The cyrion lowered herhead, and the immaturemaleclimbeddown.She’sdrained.He barked another laughwhen,outofthecornerofhis

eye, he caught a glimpse ofhis cohorts of D’hadhiitroopers in gleaming orangeandgoldtrottingupthetrail.

Perfecttiming.His laugh caught in his

throatwhen he realizedwhatthe cyrion expended the lastof her energy on. Massivetree trunks now blocked the

trail. His reinforcementswould be forced to wastepreciousminutes skirting theblockage. Nothing stoodbetween his quarry and theentrance to theportal cavern.He roared, unsheathed hisbroadsword, and ran downthehill.

She will not escape me

again.Notthistime.****

Jon stood, paralyzed inhorror,asAnyabroughtdownthe trees to block the trail,screamed, then collapsedbefore his eyes.Hermassivedragon form shimmered,before shifting into eclipsesof iridescentgreenbutterflies

that flew into the clear bluesky. Underneath all thebutterflies lay Anya’s stillform.

Nausea and headachelongforgotten,Jonrantoher,his heart in his throat. Herbreathing was shallow andherpulse,erratic.Hishandonthebloodstone,heglancedat

the trail where hordes ofD’hadhii troopers almostreached the mess of fallentrees.Heglancedback to themouth of the portal cave,trying to gauge the distance.To judge if he would bestrong enough to get themboth that far before theD’hadhii troopers made their

way around the mess ofsplinteredtrunks.Jon’sbrowsfurrowed with indecision ashegatheredherintohisarms.

Thenhenoticedthebrightorange smears on her palelips.

Berrystains.He dismissed all thought

of calling the grumps for

help. Saul was right. Theyhaddone toomuchandgonetoofarnottocompletethisontheir own. They’d finish themissionasplanned.

He’dseetoit.Jondroppedhispackand

carried Anya’s prone,clammyformacrossbothhisshoulders, theway his father

taught him. She was muchlighter than he expected.That, or he had gottenstronger over the last fewweeks.

Ormoredesperate.Gritting his teeth, Jon

madehiswaytothemouthoftheportalcave.

****

“Saul!” Jon staggeredintotheinnermostchamberofthe cavern. He struggled tohand Anya to his friend.“Takeher.”

“What happened?” Saulcarried Anya across both hisshoulders with an ease andgrace that Jon had alwaysbothadmiredandenvied.

“I’ll explain later. Notime.Morecoming.”

Jon whipped out theSlayer and, careless withhaste, slashed his hand. Hecoated the pendant with theblood that dripped freelyfrom the gash, and thenpressedhiswoundedhand totheglassyblackwall.

Tooslow,muchtooslow.“Fat Watchers. I buy

time.” G’hanjl pulled out ablood-crustedstilettofromhisbelt. Sa’atha wailed herprotest.

The stone wall warmedunderJon’shand.

G’hanjl turned to hissister.“Behappy.”

The portal emerged fromthewall.

“Look after Sa’atha, FatWatchers,”hesaid.“Andtellhumans not all goblins bad.Somegoblinsgood.”

Echoes of booted feetrangfromtheentranceof thecavern.

“I promise,” Jon said,

lookingatG’hanjl straight inthe eye. “And no, not justgood. Some goblins areheroes.”

G’hanjl nodded. “Thankyou.”

The door swung open,and with it came a warmbreeze, carrying the sweetscentsofsummertime.

“Go! Go! Go!” Saulpushed the Ha’rani refugeesthrough the portal. As Jonpulled Sa’atha through, hislast glimpse was of G’hanjl,hisarm raisedhigh, chargingthe D’hadhii troopersswarming into the innermostchamber of the cavern. Thelast thing he heard as the

portal swung shut was ofmetalstrikingflesh.

CHAPTERTHIRTYBUTTERFLIESASCENDING

Naeem sat in front of his

deskinthestudy,tappinghisgrey goose quill on the half-writtenreportbeforehim.Hewould occasionally look outthe window and stare at his

grandson, sitting by himselfamidst the riot of flowersGreta planted by the raven’sgrave.

The mission had beenhardonhim.Onallof them.Naeem sighed, tore his gazeaway fromJon, and stared atthe stack of reports on hisleft. At least the goblin

settlement was going well.Theinnandtheforgebroughtin the much-needed incomerequiredtoget therestof theOutpostbackon its feet.TheOutpost should be self-sufficient by this time nextyear.

Naeem’s eyes droppedback to the report he was

preparing.There is irrefutable proof

the elves are still among us.Further, they have taken theroleof predatorbyusing thelivesof theHa’raniyoung topower their enchantments.Based on eyewitnessaccounts, my squad and Iconclude that the ratio of

predator to prey is, and hasbeen, out of balance andtherefore,unsustainable.

He resumed tapping hisgoose quill against the finericepaper,deepinthought.

We recommend triplingthe Watcher squadspatrolling the Northernborder, and guarding or

sealingall portals leading tothe Northern Wastes toprevent further breaches intoWatcher-controlledterritories.Starvedofa freshsource of life force to feedtheir enchantments, webelieve it will only be amatter of time before Drow-controlled territories

collapse.My squad and I

recommend that a detailed,verbal report be delivered inperson to the Triumvirate attheAcademy.

Hisattentionstrayedbackto Jon, who seemed to beconcentrating on nothingmoresubstantialthanthinair.

Naeem shook his head,sighed yet again, andcontinuedwriting.

We will depart Linwoodwith all necessary witnessesand evidence as soon aspossible.

He would give thechildren as much time as hepossible. Hopefully, enough

for all three of them torecover. Or at least, timeenough for the cyrion tofinallypass.

****Amonth had passed. Jon

sat on the grass beside theraven’sgrave,amidstariotofblooming rock roses,bluebeards and butterfly

bushes, the sun warming hisback. Grammy Greta camethrough.He lookedup to thesecond floor of hisgrandfather’shouse.Cheerfulpinkcurtains,caressedbythelight, warm summer breeze,flutteredout of a set of openwindows.Hepulledhiskneesup to his chest and wrapped

hisarmsaroundthem.Pink.Typicalgirl.Backat theLinwoodside

of the portal cave, Jon usedthe pendant and his bloodiedhand tounlockawayout forall of them. Saul refused torelinquish his burden andcarried Anya all the wayhome. She did not open her

eyes once. Jon periodicallychecked her pulse andbreathing, but there was nomorehecoulddo.

The days after they gothome consisted of amaddenedflurryofquestions,hugs, and admonishments.Jon barely remembered halfthe things that happened. A

settlementhadbeenfoundforthe goblins, he recalledhearingasmuch.Hekepthispromise.Sa’athanowranhisfather’sold innand tavernatthe Outpost. I guess it’s theGoblinOutpost,now.

The Goblin Outpost wastoo far out of the way foranyone to stumble across by

accident, making it a safeplace for its newestinhabitants.JonceasedcaringabouttheotherHa’raniinthegoblin city. They chose tostay slaves. They deservetheir lot. The grumps saidsomethingabouttheNorthernWastes being beyond thescope of their authority

anyway.The moment they

returned to Linwood,refugees in tow, the three ofthem earned the rank ofApprenticeWatchers.Jondidnotcareverymuchaboutthateither.Notanymore.SaulhadnotleftAnya’sroomvirtuallythe whole time they’ve been

back.HeandGretatookcareof Anya as best they could.She could reflexivelyswallow when they held herup to spoon clear soup andwater into her slack mouth.But otherwise, she lay likeonealreadydead.

The first week they wereback, Saul asked, screamed,

and finally begged her towake up. Now he spent hisdaysdoingnothingmorethanholdingherhandandlookingat her with haunted, holloweyes.Everynight,hesleptonthe floorbesideherbed, inanest of blankets and pillows.The grumps had doneeverything they knew to do

and Grampa had checkedevery tome in his study. Allfornothing.

She had not opened hereyesonce.

Two weeks ago, on theverge of giving up all hope,somethingcaughthiseyes.Abutterfly. A single iridescentgreen butterfly. He had an

idea. An idea he kept tohimself. Partly because hedidn’t want anyonedisappointed in case he waswrong. Also partly out ofsuperstitious fear that themorepeoplewhoknewaboutit,thelowertheprobabilityofsuccess.

He did not want to risk

scaringawaythebutterflies.Everymorning since that

day,hegatheredabouquetofrockrosesandbluebeardsandplaced them in a glass vasebeside Anya’s bed. Then hespentthedaykeepingvigilbythe raven’s grave. The firstmorning, he saw severaliridescent green butterflies

alight on the blooms by thegrave, then ascend andmaketheir way through the openwindow. With eachsuccessive day, more andmorebutterflies flew throughthe window. Yet there wereno outcries from anyoneinside.AndSauldidnotsayasinglewordaboutthem.

Yesterday, there were somany butterflies, theyblockedoutthesun.Sotoday,hewaitedinhope.

He closed his eyes, thenbowedandrestedhisheadonhisknees.

Pleasework.Idon’tknowwhatelsetodo.Comehome.

Then he felt a familiar

tickle inside. A surge ofwarmth washed through hismind.

“Jon! Come quick!” heheard Saul’s voice throughthewindow.

Jon looked up, a brightsmileonhisface.Hisfirst inweeks. He rose in a singlegraceful motion, and raced

intohisgrandfather’shouse.She’sawake.

AbouttheAuthor

Abigail is fluent in threelanguages, grew up in Asia,studied History in the UK.She also holds graduatedegrees in InternationalManagement and SpecialEducation. Now, she calls

sunnySouthernCaliforniaherhome. When not workingwith flowers (anddaydreaming about what aranunculus flowerfairy lookslike) she sings aboutWinniethe Pooh while baking treatslike pineapple tarts and sanddollarcookiesforherson,ElKiddo.

She has an on-goinglove/haterelationshipwithallthings chocolate, althoughcoffeewillalwaysremainherfirstlove.

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