“A disgraced member of the Mog family, perhaps?”
“Perhaps. Look at these carvings; they aren’t like the others.” He pointed at the engraved humanoid forms.
“Disfigured humans. Who would carve such a thing into their loved one’s burial site?”
“No, not humans.” He took the torch from me. With the light closer to the carvings, I recognized the images for what they really were. The hollow eye sockets, the sunken cheeks, the incisors too large and pointed like fangs, and the thin, forked tongues snaking from parted lips.
I took a step back. “Goblins.”
Kull knit his brow in confusion.
“Your people hate goblins. Why would they carve this?”
“I don’t understand. It makes no sense. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
The fire sputtered. “I do not understand it. Look here.” He pointed above us, where the image of a Viking ship had been carved. A crowd of people filled the ship’s deck, but on the shore stood a goblin. Kull shook his head. “This makes little sense.”
I looked from the carving to the gouged-out names. The answer lay right before us. “Kull, who’s buried in these tombs?”
“The Mog family—I’ve already told you.”
“Are you certain?”
The firelight reflected the fear in his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
I nodded at the tomb. “We need to look inside.”
“That would be a waste of our time. The remains would be too decayed to identify.”
“But someone went to great trouble to etch the names off. They wanted the identity of whoever lay in these tombs to remain hidden.”
He worked his jaw back and forth as if debating what to do. “I suppose you are right. Take this while I remove the lid.” I took the torch from him.
He maneuvered the coffin out of the hollowed rock far enough to tip it from the alcove. With a grating of stone against stone, he leveraged it onto the ground. We knelt beside it as a cloud of dust billowed. Kull slid the lid aside.
A black shroud lay atop the corpse. I held the torchlight close to get a better look. With careful hands, Kull removed the covering. Under the torch’s flame, what remained of the skull came into view. Yellowed fangs curved from the skull’s upper jaw. Small bits of frayed, black thread wound around the corpse’s incisors, keeping the mouth tightly shut.
I took a step back.
Kull cursed. “Goblins.”
“Why are goblins buried in the Wult tombs?”
He shook his head. “And why the black thread?”
“Perhaps someone wanted to keep the corpse’s identity a secret. The black thread would have kept the fangs hidden until the lips decomposed.”
“If it is true, if the goblins have taken the tombs, then we must leave. They may have already ambushed my sister,” Kull said. “We must make haste.”
We raced out of the tunnel. The caverns blurred past. Blood hammered my eardrums as I focused on the next turn, the next corridor. The hallways seemed immeasurably longer than I remembered.
My lungs screamed for air as we reached the ladder, though with the added adrenaline, my pain disappeared as we climbed.
Sunlight pierced my eyes as we climbed higher. I grabbed the top rung and pulled myself out of the opening. Icy wind stung my cheeks. Kull stood next to me, scanning the area with the look of a predator.
A cloud of gray mist shrouded the courtyard. The silence pressed against my eardrums. As I took a step forward, my footfalls made no sound over the ice-packed earth. Smoky fog twisted around the stone pillars. Magic tingled in the mist as it touched my skin.
Kull took a step forward, and I stopped him. “It might be a spell,” I said. “The mist is hiding something. Be careful.”
He pulled his sword free, though I doubted it would be any help against magic like this. “Heidel?” he called. The mist muffled his voice.
Sounds of shuffling feet echoed behind the pillar across from us. We walked quietly toward it. I wanted to use my magic, but I sensed that doing so would only draw our intruders closer.
As we neared the pillar, a gory scene came into view. A goblin’s head lay on the ground, its brains oozing from the split-open skull. The thing’s eyes had been gouged out, and the empty sockets stared at the coiling mist of gray fog. The lips had been torn away, or perhaps cut off, revealing rows of serrated fangs.
Kull’s jaw tightened as he poked the skull. He lifted a torn strip of hide from the beast’s forehead. Grayish brain matter seeped from the broken skull. “This was a deliberate act, meant to send us a message. They want us to come after them.”
“But who? And who would’ve known we would be here?”
The Dreamthief knew. This was feeling more like a trap than a rescue mission.
I stepped around the blood to reach the other side of the stone column.
Something moved. In the haze I couldn’t see much, a bit of gray-colored leg, a hunched over body. Sounds of clicking came from somewhere.
I spun around but saw nothing but mist. It crowded around me, closing in, squeezing air from my lungs.
“Olive?” Kull’s voice drifted through the fog.
“Over here.”
The blade of his sword cut through mist as he made his way toward me. “I found a trail of blood back there. Not much, but it might lead to whoever’s out there. If they’ve harmed my sister, they’ll regret it.” He peered around the ruins like a hawk searching for prey.
I followed him to the trail of blood. Tiny droplets marred the ice-white snow. The path of blood led away from the ruins and toward the mountains. Toward the goblin lands.
“Goblins,” I said. “I think I saw one back there. They’ve desecrated the tombs. Now they’ve taken your sister.”
“But why? Goblins have never challenged us before.”
I feared the answer to his question. If the goblins awoke Theht, what would happen to my godson?
A hiss echoed behind us. First, a low moan, and then dozens of voices joined in. I spun around but saw nothing.
“Show yourselves,” Kull shouted.
The hisses grew into a wail. Kull’s grip tightened
