“Fog Riders.”
“Good name,” she muttered.
“Who are they?” Gideon’s voice was low. His body, so close to Chandra’s, was still tense. “What are they doing?”
“Someone run away,” Jurl said. “They find. Bring back.”
“Back where?” Chandra asked.
“Velrav Castle.”
She listened to Gideon’s breathing and knew they were both thinking about the captive on that horse.
After a long moment, Gideon said, “Let’s keep moving.”
“Fog Riders, bad,” Jurl said with feeling.
“Yes, I think we grasped that.” Gideon rose to his feet and turned to help Chandra extract herself from the clinging arms of the thicket.
Something tugged on her hair. She winced as she pulled against it.
“Wait,” Gideon said softly. He reached out to untangle her hair from a slender branch. Then he smoothed the rescued strand over her shoulder. “There.”
“Thanks.”
Feeling somber and sickened after what she had just witnessed, Chandra turned in the direction they had been heading before hearing the Fog Riders. Jurl grumbled a bit, but then he did the same. Gideon seemed preoccupied and didn’t even bother tugging on the goblin’s makeshift leash to get him to pick up his heel-dragging pace.
After a few moments walking in silence, Jurl nodded. “Village, near. You walk first,” the goblin said.
“Why?” Gideon asked suspiciously.
“Not like goblin,” Jurl explained, nodding in the direction of the village.
“What a mystery.” Chandra said to Gideon, “I’ll walk ahead. You keep a tight hold of his leash. If anything happens to me, cut off his hands.” She added, “Did you hear that, Jurl?”
“Yes.” He sounded morose.
Chandra moved past Jurl and walked ahead of him. Within moments, she saw a thatched hut. Then several others. They were part of a small village, nestled in the side of a hill and bathed in moonlight. It looked like there were about twenty dwellings here.
As she drew closer, she saw several people standing in the doorways of their huts, peering at her. By the time she reached the first few huts, she heard gasps and excited voices exchanging muffled comments. People were coming out of their huts and standing in the moonlight.
She thought at first that the gasps and the excitement were because of the goblin entering the village. But then she realized, as she stood surrounded by people, that they were all staring at her. And she thought she could guess why.
Although no one here looked like Gideon-they were too frail and hollow-eyed to resemble him-they had similar coloring: dark hair, dark eyes, fair skin. As Chandra looked around at the dozens of people who were emerging from their huts and gathering to stare at her, she saw, even in the light of the moon, that she was the only redhead present. Perhaps the only redhead they had ever seen.
“Hello,” Chandra said, looking around at the gathering crowd. “We’ve come to speak to the wise woman.”
A young woman, a girl by some standards, stepped forward, separating herself from the crowd. She approached Chandra hesitantly, and slowly reached out a hand to touch her red hair.
Her voice was soft and shy as she said, “You’re so beautiful!”
“Thank you,” said Chandra.
Behind her, Jurl said, “Wise woman.”
“My name is Gideon. We’d like to speak with the wise woman.”
The girl said, “You’re welcome here.”
Gideon said, “Thank you.”
Jurl said, “Wise woman.”
“Yes,” Chandra said, “if someone would tell the wise woman we’ve come to see her? It’s important.”
Sounding impatient now, Jurl repeated, “Wise woman.”
“Oh.” Gideon said, “Chandra…”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I think I understand.” Chandra looked at the girl standing before her. “You’re the wise woman?”
She smiled sweetly. “Yes, I am the village menarch. Why have you come to see me?”
The wise woman told them her name was Falia, and she led them to a hut where they could sit and talk.
As they entered the doorway of the small thatched hut, Jurl hung back, tugging a little on his leash.
“Free Jurl,” he insisted.
“So you can attack us again?” said Chandra. “And trade us to your hungry prince in exchange for goblin goodies? No.”
“Jurl bring here. Now set free.” The goblin added with reproach, “You promise.”
“No,” said Gideon, “I promised I wouldn’t kill you if you brought us here. Freeing you is a whole different subject.”
Jurl snarled in outrage.
Looking bored, Gideon tugged the leash sharply.
Jurl gasped in pain, went silent, and trudged into the hut with them. The interior was lighted by short, thick candles.
“Sit in the corner and be quiet,” Gideon told the goblin.
Jurl’s gaze searched the round hut. “No corner.”
Gideon sighed. “Sit out of the way.”
“Hungry,” Jurl said sullenly.
The wise woman said in her soft, high voice, “We can provide food and drink for all of you.”
“What food?” Jurl asked, sounding skeptical.
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re fussy,” Chandra said.
“Thank you,” Gideon said to Falia. “Whatever you offer us will be much appreciated.”
The girl’s gaze traveled over Chandra’s bloodied, smeared appearance, the mud on Gideon’s clothes, and his darkening jaw. “It seems you’ve had a long and difficult journey. After we talk, perhaps you would also like to wash, and then to rest.”
Wash, Chandra thought with longing. Since they were stuck here, rest was obviously a good idea, too, even though she didn’t relish the thought of closing her eyes on this grim and sinister plane.
“Yes, thank you,” Gideon said. “We’re grateful for your hospitality.”
Falia’s gaze went back to Gideon and lingered there. The expression of dawning fascination Chandra saw on her face belied Falia’s girlish appearance. Gideon was a handsome man, beautiful without being pretty, strong without being bulky. His predatory grace was evident in every movement, and his expression was friendly and reassuring as he returned the girl’s unwavering gaze.
But Chandra didn’t see a frightened girl in need of reassurance looking back at him. Falia wore the expression of a woman encountering an attractive stranger in her drab little village where everyone knew everyone else, and where the choice of marriage partners was very limited.
Falia gave a little start, evidently realizing she’d been staring, and said to them, “Please, sit now.” The girl stuck her head outside the door of the hut to give instructions to someone while Gideon and Chandra helped Jurl sit.
“Free hands,” said Jurl.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Chandra.
“He can’t help it,” said Gideon. “He’s a goblin.”
The two of them sat down side by side on the woven mats that covered the earthen floor.
Falia re-entered the hut and sat down facing them. Despite her frail appearance and sickly pallor, she was a pretty girl, with a delicate, ethereal quality. Her dark, hollow eyes seemed too sad and haunted for someone so
