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Hurry!”
    “Here.” Nia tossed Peet’s leather satchel to Janner. “Tie this to the donkey, then get your things. Go!”
    “Mama, Mister Reteep is hurt,” Janner said. “Where’s the water from the First Well?”
    “I don’t know, son. Artham had it. We’ll have to give Oskar some when we get far enough away from the Fangs.” She turned to Oskar. “Can you make it? Can you ride?”
    Oskar nodded, wheezing.
    Janner’s sword, lashed to the side of his pack, thunked against his hip when he threw the pack over his shoulders and reminded him how heavy and real and dangerous swords—and the situations that called for them—were. The growl-moans of the trolls grew louder, and Janner could hear the faint
thud-thud-thud
of marching feet.
    Leeli sat astride Nugget, her hands on the tufts of black fur that gathered at the sides of her dog’s great head, her newest crutch slung with twine over her shoulder.Tink sat just behind his sister with his bow ready. Nia held the tired donkey’s reins and ran a soothing hand along its jaw. When Oskar tried to mount the donkey, it fixed him with a surly eye and brayed.
    “All right, lads and lasses,” Podo shouted, “we’re off at a quick pace, hear?”
    “But Grandpa, what about Uncle Peet?” Leeli asked.
    Podo lowered his voice and spoke without looking his granddaughter in the eye. “We ain’t waiting fer him. No time. He’ll catch up.”
    “But—”
    “After them!”
snarled the faint, unmistakable voice of a Fang of Dang.
    Janner saw a green, scaly face appear in the tree-choked distance, then another, and another. Podo took hold of Nugget’s collar and led him at a run, deeper into Glipwood Forest.

6
The Gully Rim
    T hrough the forest they ran. Behind them, like an invisible storm blowing through the trees, came the howls and moans and stomping feet of the Fang army. The donkey needed no prodding from Janner to quicken its pace. Peet the Sock Man was nowhere to be seen, but his screech occasionally cut through the darker sounds behind them.
    Podo drove them onward, and even with his peglegged limp, he had to check his speed to allow the rest to keep up. Janner and his mother ran with the wild-eyed donkey between them, and Oskar huffed and wheezed in the rear.
    As they ran, Janner looked over his shoulder and saw a line of Fangs weaving in and out of the trees, and among them, three lumbering trolls, which broke fat limbs like twigs. Janner felt a combination of horror and fascination and wished he could somehow stop the pursuit so he could get a better look at one of the smelly hulks.
    “Janner, watch where you’re going,” Nia said, and he just had time to dance around a small tree. Ahead, Nugget trotted beside Podo, choosing his path with care so that Leeli was safe from low branches. With each troll bellow, Nugget’s ears flattened against his head and he whined.
    “
Shh
, boy,” Leeli said, leaning forward to speak in her dog’s ear.
    Tink sat behind Leeli with his bow at the ready.
    “Tink, can you see them?” Janner huffed.
    “Yeah, I see them,” Tink answered, trying to hide the worry in his voice. “They’re getting closer. Grandpa, they’re getting closer!”
    “Aye, I hear ‘em, lad,” said Podo. “You just keep that arrow on the string.”
    Janner tried not to look back, but he couldn’t help himself. He saw even more Fangs and trolls, close enough that he could make out looks of vicious glee on their faces. He could also smell them. A sharp, bitter odor polluted the air, and with the smell came memories of Slarb, of Gnorm and the Black Carriage, of cold, damp Fang flesh. With the memories came deep and overpowering fear. Since Oskar had burst into the clearing, Janner had felt tension and urgency—but now that he remembered the iron grip of a Fang claw and the ooze of venom from a Fang tooth, he was truly afraid.

    From Pembrick’s
Creaturepedia
    “Oskar!” Nia cried.
    Janner saw the old man stagger, teetering like a pile of