recognized it. 'We're here now. We're committed to visiting this lady Wyndyfarh and returning to Parnast before dark. There's no time for nonsense. If the goblin wants us to stay on the path, then we stay on the path. Is that clear, Tiep?'
'What godsforsaken path?' Tiep fumed. He wouldn't win, but defeat had never kept him from fighting. 'I don't see any godsforsaken path.'
Galimer looked at Dru who shrugged. 'Don't ask me. I've been following you and the goblin.'
Sheemzher scurried between them. He'd dropped his spear and clawed at his neck. 'Path! Safe-passage path. All watch.'
The goblin freed a golden necklace from his striped shirt and displayed its nut-sized pendant for close inspection. The lumpy stone was polished, not cut, and about the same color as the goblin's red-orange skin.
'Good lady Wyndyfarh show path. All watch. All look.'
The red-orange pendant glowed in the sunlight. When it was ember bright, similarly colored specks in trees they'd passed and in trees they approached became visible.
'See? See?' the goblin asked. 'Safe-passage path. Good sir safe, good man, good lady, even that one-' Sheemzher pointed at Tiep then he pointed at the blue-flower tree where no ember glowed. 'See no path, no safe passage. Tree there not safe. Tree there not belong good lady. Good lady say: 'Stay on my path, Sheemzher. Don't bother the others. Leave them alone. Don't start trouble.' Sheemzher listen. Sheemzher follow path. All follow Sheemzher, yes? No flowers. No petals. Not safe. Not belong good lady.'
Druhallen asked if he could examine the pendant and, after a moment's thought, Sheemzher handed it over. As long as the goblin's knobby fingers touched the necklace, the pendant and the markers glowed brightly. The pendant went dark the moment Dru touched it. The markers faded, too, but not so much that Tiep couldn't still distinguish them.
'Interesting.' Dru held the pendant to the sun. 'Amber-it's warm to the touch-but this color is new to me, and it's remarkably clear.'
Interesting was, well, interesting, but amber-clear amber-was rare and, therefore, valuable. Much too valuable to be hanging around a dog-faced goblin's neck. Tiep tried to catch Galimer's eye-to see if they were both thinking about profits-but Galimer's attention was on the pendant. Rozt'a's, too. With all of them distracted, Tiep considered popping a marker out of the nearest tree, but decided to resist temptation-for now. After they'd taken care of Rozt'a and her dream, he'd make the chance to fill his pockets with amber.
Tiep was imagining the expressions on his adults' faces as he told them what the Scornubel jewelers had paid for Weathercote amber when the markers brightened.
'Not belong good sir!' the dog-face protested, fairly climbing into Druhallen's arms to retrieve the pendant.
'Belong Sheemzher. Good lady give. Belong Sheemzher, not good sir.'
'Not mine,' Dru agreed and replaced the chain around the goblin's scrawny neck. The markers winked out like blown candles. 'Interesting. Yesterday morning an old man warned me not to enter the Wood unless the light was right and I stayed on the path. I didn't know what he meant then, but I do now. Can you still see the path, Sheemzher?'
Tiep recognized Dru's patient-parent voice, but the goblin fell for it. He tapped his temple where a few wisps of ratty black hair escaped his hat. 'Sheemzher knows way home. If Sheemzher forget, gift show path. Sheemzher never lost here. Good lady not alone here. Others different. Others not welcome Sheemzher, visitors. Stay on path. Safe passage. Always safe passage. Never lost. Stay on path.'
'Good idea,' Galimer agreed. 'And let's get moving along the path ourselves. How much farther is Lady Wyndyfarh's glade anyway? One hour? Two? A half?'
'One hour,' Sheemzher answered, returning to his place at the front of their line.
Sheemzher's hour was endless. They walked until the sun was high above the Wood. Tiep had taken Rozt'a's advice to heart. He walked lightly between the trees; the thrill of stirring up the leaves was long gone. There was shade aplenty in the forest, but the heat was oppressive and the only breeze came from the cloud of buzzing, stinging insects that accompanied them.
They'd filled their waterskins at the bridge. Tiep's was empty by mid-morning. His mouth was sour leather before the goblin lead them past a cool-water spring. No one said a word while they drenched themselves and refilled the skins. Rozt'a looked particularly grim and guilty.
Tiep's mind had gone numb. One foot after the other, he watched the ground and paid little attention to the forest. He hadn't noticed that there were fewer trees, more gray boulders until a noise that sounded like a man screaming jolted him out of a hazy, instantly forgotten daydream. His companions had heard the same thing. They were stopped and staring in the same northerly direction.
'What was that?' Tiep asked.
'Sounded like a big cat,' Druhallen answered. He turned to Sheemzher. 'Are there forest lions in here?'
When the goblin didn't immediately answer, Galimer offered his opinion: 'That roar didn't come from any cat.'
Rozt'a drew her sword. 'What's dangerous around here?'
'No danger here,' Sheemzher insisted. 'Safe passage.' He hunched his shoulder and made the tree markers glow. 'Stay on path. No danger.'
The goblin resumed walking. He hadn't taken two steps when the sound repeated itself, louder this time, maybe closer.
'Go to ground, Tiep,' Rozt'a whispered.
That was his place when trouble blew in. Tiep was neither muscle nor magic and his adults didn't want to be worried about him when they had work to do. Sometimes he resented it; not this time, not after a third scream. The boulders promised some shelter, but the trees offered more.
'Path!' Sheemzher shouted as Tiep bolted for a tree whose branches were both reachable and sturdy. 'Safe passage. Stay safe. Stay on path!'
'I'm not leaving your damned path!' Tiep shouted as he made a standing leap for the lowest branch. 'This tree's got a marker on it.'
Tiep didn't believe the dog-faced goblin's assurances about the path. His faith lay in the damage he'd seen Dru and Rozt'a create with their chosen weapons. They'd triumph over anything a forest could throw at them-and he'd pocket an amber marker on his way back to the ground.
A long silence reigned after the third scream. Rozt'a lowered her sword. When she sheathed it, Tiep was clear to rejoin them. He was calculating the best way to snag the amber when Galimer shouted 'There!'
Branches blocked Tiep's view. He climbed higher and almost wished he'd stayed put. The screamer wasn't any familiar sort of animal. Long-legged and horse high at the shoulder, it had a short neck and forward-looking eyes. Its snout was short, too, and framed with overlapping tusks that showed pale against its nearly black fur. Tiep guessed it was some sort of overgrown pig, then it raised a front leg and he saw that it had paws, rather than hooves.
Tiep couldn't name any ordinary animal that had tusks and paws. Pigs didn't have paws. Lions and bears were built closer to the ground and didn't have tusks. With the education he'd gotten from Dru and Galimer, Tiep reckoned that some wizard somewhere or when had transformed this beast into being.
When great wizards conjured creatures, they didn't often pay attention to what lay inside their skulls. With mismatches between their minds and bodies, magical creatures tended to be cranky or crazy, and were often both. Hidden though he was, Tiep held his breath. He didn't dare a quick prayer to Tymora. You never knew what a magical creature might be sensitive to, or what might set it off. Smart folk concentrated on blending in with their surroundings. Tiep filled his thoughts with branches and leaves.
The beast reared and screamed. There was magic in the sound. Terror waves washed over Tiep and the trees. He wrapped his arms tighter around the branch and made himself breathe deeply, evenly. That helped against ambient magic, but not against gut-born fear when the beast set its front paws on the ground and shambled directly toward their supposedly safe path.
Rozt'a raised her sword; Druhallen, his arms. His lips moved and a globe of fire leapt off his fingertips. Dru didn't miss. Tiep clung to the branch but kept his eyes open. The tree shuddered when the fireball exploded.
Flame consumed the dead-leaf carpet and tasted the trees. Smoke billowed quickly and hid the yowling beast. Tiep allowed himself to believe that Druhallen had slain the creature with his first spell, until it charged out
