the canyon. The fire giant tunnel will run straight to it, while we must wind our way out of this mine and up the gorge-”
“Enough!” Raeyadfourne’s eyes had grown angry as a blizzard. “We can’t give up now. For all we know, the fire giant tunnel could be blocked. I’ll gather my warriors and the fomorians, then start digging. You take the verbeegs and try to find that exit.”
“We’ll never reach it before the humans,” Horatio warned.
“But you will try.” Raeyadfourne motioned to Galgadayle and Munairoe, then started into the drift with the messenger.
“Wait!” barked Jerome, starting after the firbolgs. “Do you take us for fools? If the tunnel is blocked, you’ll capture the queen and we’ll be left outside. I’m going with you.”
Horatio caught the younger verbeeg by the arm. “Jerome, what difference does it make who captures the queen?” His voice was strangely calm. “The important thing is to kill the child, and we can trust the firbolgs to do that.”
Jerome scowled at his fellow. “You want me to go with you?”
“Exactly.” Horatio smiled at Raeyadfourne, then placed a hand on Marwick’s trembling shoulder. “And since we are going outside anyway, we’ll put the captive with the others your tribe is holding.”
Raeyadfourne frowned. “There’s no use torturing him,” the firbolg warned. “He knows nothing that will help us capture the queen.”
Horatio nodded. “On my word, we will not harm him.”
“My thanks, then,” the chieftain replied. “And I shall look in on his condition later.”
Raeyadfourne turned and led his two fellows into the tunnel. Marwick’s fear showed so brightly that his eyes were almost glowing. The front rider stared after the firbolg torches until they had faded into darkness, then darted for the drift next to Avner’s.
Jerome was expecting the maneuver. The verbeeg’s arm shot out quick as lightning and plucked the front rider off his feet. “Now, midget, you will tell us what you know.”
“Of course,” Marwick gasped. “You don’t have to hurt me. I won’t hide anything.”
Avner raised his dagger, but had to hold his throw when Horatio snatched Marwick from the younger verbeeg.
“Jerome, we have no time for that.”
Horatio snapped the front rider’s spine as casually as a man would wring a chicken’s neck, then threw the lifeless body down the black maw of narrow shaft. The corpse bounced down the passage with a series of slowly fading thuds.
Jerome peered down the hole. “Why did you do that?”
Horatio planted a finger on his map. “Because of this pit,” he explained. “Unless I miss my guess, the fire giants cut through it with their tunnel. If we hurry, we’ll be waiting when Queen Brianna goes by.”
Jerome’s harelip twisted into an greedy smile. “And then she’ll be our prisoner,” he said. “We can demand all the ransom we want.”
The tunnel was as smooth and straight as the halls of Castle Hartwick, and so dark that the soot-covered walls swallowed light as a river swallows snowflakes. The queen’s party was moving along at a trot, with Gryffitt running thirty paces ahead, holding the queen’s dagger to illuminate his path. Brianna was holding Mountain Crusher to light the way for Tavis and his fellow litter bearers.
Despite the pain in his ribs, Tavis easily kept pace with the others. There was nothing to see in this passage and little to worry about, other than a few boulders hanging loose in the ceiling and the slick footing of the wet floor. With any luck at all, they would be out of the mountain shortly.
“I think we’re going to be safe, milady,” Tavis reported. “We should reach Wynn Castle by sunrise.”
“You’ve done well, Lord Scout,” Brianna replied. “But I must admit I won’t feel safe even after we return to our own castle. The war with the giants has been bad enough. I don’t know if we can defeat a ’kin alliance as well.”
“Let’s not worry about the ’kin now,” Tavis suggested. “Perhaps the light of day will show us a way to put to rest our trouble with them.”
“What could possibly change between now and tomorrow?”
Tavis hesitated before answering, and it was a mistake.
“Well?” Brianna asked. “What will daylight show us, save more trouble?”
“Perhaps we can strike a compromise with the firbolgs,” Tavis replied. “After all, Galgadayle’s dream was not entirely correct.”
“Entirely?” Brianna sat up, twisting around to look at Tavis and consequently shielding her nursing child from his view. “Exactly what do you think was correct about Galgadayle’s prophecy?”
Tavis did not want to answer. Lying was out of the question, of course, but so was telling Brianna that her child’s face bore the worst features of both the ettin’s heads. “Let’s discuss this tomorrow, after we’ve had more rest.”
“No. I want to know now,” Brianna insisted. “You don’t think Kaedlaw is your son, do you?”
The two men carrying the forward half of the litter stumbled and nearly fell.
“Brianna, this is not the time to discuss what I think,” Tavis said. “You’re still weak, I’m exhausted and sore, and the only important thing is to reach the protection of Wynn Castle.”
“Answer me!” Brianna yelled. “I command it as your queen.”
“We’d better slow down,” Tavis said. Once his fellow litter bearers had obeyed, he took a deep breath and met his wife’s gaze. “Kaedlaw was fathered by the imposter. He’s too ugly to be mine.”
The two front riders glanced over their shoulders, one with an arched brow and the other a slack jaw.
Brianna shrieked, “Ugly?”
Tavis nodded, his eyes fixed on Kaedlaw’s piggish face. “That round head,” he said. “That pug nose and double chin… what made you think he was my child?”
Tears streamed from Brianna’s eyes. “Tavis, how could you?”
Tavis wanted to reach out and embrace his wife, but he could not free his hands without dropping her litter. “You were beguiled.”
“You’re the one who’s beguiled!” Brianna shouted. “What spell did Galgadayle cast on you-or have you betrayed me of your own accord?”
“I haven’t betrayed you,” Tavis insisted. “But you must admit that the child doesn’t resemble me. Just look at his eyes: mine are blue and yours are violet, but his are brown. And whose eyes were brown? The imposter’s!”
Brianna’s expression went blank, then her eyes began to widen in terror. At the same time, the two front riders abruptly stopped walking and turned around.
“Lord Scout, what are you talking about?” asked one. “The child’s eyes are as blue as ice!”
Tavis scowled at the man. “What’s wrong with you?” He looked from the front rider to Brianna, who now had a distant expression on her face, then back again. “Did the queen order you to say that?”
The second front rider shook his head. “She ordered nothing of the sort. The child looks just like you!” The man looked toward the queen with an expression so tender he might have been her husband, then added, “Not that you deserve a royal son!”
Brianna threw her legs over the edge of the litter and, still holding Tavis’s bow, stumbled around behind the two front riders. There was a mad, terrified light in her violet eyes.
“Gryffitt!” She did not look away from the high scout as she yelled.
Far up the passage, Tavis saw the front rider’s distant figure stop. “Yes, Majesty?”
“Come back here,” Brianna commanded. “You shall carry my litter, and we shall send this-this firbolg-to scout ahead.”
“That’s not necessary, Brianna,” Tavis said. “There’s something strange happening here. I’m seeing one thing, and everyone else another.”
“Silence, firbolg!” Brianna snapped. Something clattered far up the tunnel, in the darkness beyond Gryffitt, but the queen paid it no heed. “You will do as I command, or I’ll have you executed for treason.”
From behind Gryffitt came the echo of flat feet slapping against the wet floor. The front rider pulled his hand
