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Jig’s hand raised as if of its own will. Raised, and pointed at Porak.
    “What?” Enraged, Porak lunged at Jig.
    Jig squealed. Smudge leaped from his shoulder and scurried into the corner. But Porak never finished his attack.
    Barius’s gloved hand caught Porak by the belt and flung him back onto the floor. He landed next to one of the bodies. Dazed, he clutched his head, and his eyes fell upon the hatchet the dead goblin had dropped. Snatching up his new weapon, Porak charged.
    Jig scooped up his fire-spider and set him on his unburned shoulder as he watched Barius take one step back, then another, flicking his sword out of the way of Porak’s mad swings. On the third step, that sword dipped beneath the axe, then snapped back up to throat level. Porak either didn’t see it or was moving to fast to stop. Either way, the result was the same, and even with Jig’s poor vision, he could see blue blood spray the prince’s tunic.
    The other surviving goblin yelled in panic and fled. Jig started to follow, but movement to one side made him hesitate. The wizard walked with grim purpose after the goblin.
    “Stop him!” Barius yelled.
    Glowing eyes glanced at Jig in passing, saw that he wasn’t moving, and snapped back to the retreating goblin. One hand flicked lazily at his quiver. An arrow floated into the air, rotated to point down the tunnel, and shot off after the goblin. Loud cursing signaled the accuracy of Ryslind’s magic.
    Jig wondered why Ryslind even bothered with the bow. Perhaps killing people with magic took more energy. Or maybe the bow was simply more fun.
    “What are you waiting for?” Barius demanded. “Finish him off. Slay him before he can warn his fellows.”
    Ryslind shook his head. “Mage-shot such as this has a limited range.” He held up his hand before Barius could answer. “And before you protest, dear brother, I suggest you try to fling an arrow three hundred yards up a tunnel that takes at least two sharp turns, and see what you can hit.”
    “But he’ll tell the others,” Barius said, his polished voice turning nasal, almost whiny. “Within the hour, we’ll face a swarm of the vile things.”
    “Not bloody likely,” Darnak said from the tunnel. He stepped back into the room, dragging the elven girl by her thin wrist. “Not after the pasting we gave ’em. Ryslind just handed them one more reason to avoid us.” He surveyed the carnage, counting corpses on his fingers. “No, they won’t likely bother us again. My thinking is that we’d best be getting ready for the real monsters.”
    He scowled when he saw the prince standing over Porak’s body. “And what might have happened to that one while I was gone, Barius?”
    “ ’Twas an honorable fight. The prisoner grabbed an axe and attacked. I had no choice but to defend myself.”
    “True,” Ryslind said. “A fair fight, despite the fact that the goblin had been shot twice. Likewise, I expect it was pure chance that my brother flung the prisoner within arm’s reach of a weapon. Most noble indeed.”
    Barius whirled. “What about you? Sending magicked arrows after fleeing prisoners?”
    “Simply following orders. You are the elder, after all.” His voice was flat, but Jig sensed more menace in those easy words than anything else the wizard had said so far.
    Darnak sat down and stared at the ceiling. “Earthmaker, if you wanted penance out of me, why couldn’t it be something simple? Send me to move the Serpent River or chase the orcs out of the northlands. How did I offend you so that you led me here with these two louts?”
    That quick prayer finished, he grabbed a leather knapsack and rummaged through the contents. Jig saw rations, clothes, a whetstone, a bedroll, a large hammer . . . the dwarf carried an entire shop on his back. “Aha.” Darnak plunged a hand into the pack and seized a length of rope. He cut off about ten feet or so, which he tossed to Barius.
    “Tie that last one up before he runs after his