So they rested. Darnak shared a bit of his ale, which helped immensely. Ryslind found that he could still cast small spells, but most of his power had vanished with Straum’s death. This also contributed to Jig’s cheerfulness.
Smudge sat happily on Jig’s shoulder, munching a small chunk of dragon meat Jig had cut from Straum’s body. He had considered trying a bit of dragon for himself, thinking it couldn’t be worse than human food, but decided against it. Even retrieving this small chunk had nearly broken his sword. Those scales were tougher than they looked.
Hours later, Barius decided it was time to depart. “Everyone carry as much treasure as you can. We will need to make at least a dozen trips to retrieve our wealth, but we must take the most valuable items now, to insure their safety.”
Fortunately, among the odds and ends Straum had collected over the ages were a wide variety of sacks, pouches, and backpacks. Jig found himself lugging a small sack full of gold coins. He had tried to carry a larger bag, but that nearly destroyed his newly repaired spine. Gold was
heavy
.
He knew Barius was angry at him for not carrying more, but goblins weren’t known for their strength. Had the sack been any heavier, Jig would have ended up with his knees jammed through his shoulders. He did tuck a jeweled dagger into his belt, though, and he shoved a few rings onto his fingers.
“I hope nobody tries to stop us,” he muttered. If they were attacked, he planned to throw his gold away and hope the enemy stopped to snatch up the coins. It should work, if Barius’s greed was any example. Jig’s life was a lot more important than gold. Besides, he could always come back for more.
They made it unscathed. They found occasional footprints, but nobody saw any other sign of Straum’s children. Perhaps they had already left. Jig hoped so. They had saved his life, but he would still feel more comfortable if he never encountered another one.
Lugging their gold up the ladders was a chore, but with more of Darnak’s rope, they eventually managed to pass the treasure up through the ceiling.
There they ran into two hobgoblin sentries. But the hobgoblins fled as soon as they spotted Darnak and Barius.
“Good to have a reputation, eh?” Darnak said.
The time they spent traveling gave Jig a chance to think. More than anything, he wanted to lie down and sleep for a week. A month would be better, but he’d settle for a week. That should be enough time for the aches and bruises to begin to heal. After that he wanted a real meal. A huge helping of stuffed lizard-fish, with those dumplings Golaka made from rats for dessert.
But thinking of home reminded him that, without the rod’s magic, Golaka’s cauldron would swiftly run dry. They could still manage. Probably. With Straum dead, there would be an influx of adventurers to prey upon. Enough to feed the entire lair? He hoped so.
Jig knew he was lying to himself. Barius would return, and he would bring an army to help him. They would march through the tunnels and kill anything that got in their way. They would gut Straum’s lair, and Jig wouldn’t put it past them to wipe out the goblins and the rest of the monsters out of sheer spite.
All for what? So Barius could prove himself? So his heroism would outshine that of his brothers? Was this the kind of hero all the songs celebrated? Barius’s glory had come, not from his own courage and valor, but from the blood and sweat of the rest of the party. Ryslind’s magic, Riana’s nimble fingers, Darnak’s strength of arm, and even Jig’s blind, stubborn luck. Yet Barius would be the one about whom songs were sung. He would be the one who found the Rod of Creation, the one responsible for slaying the great dragon Straum, the one who discovered five thousand years’ worth of treasure and claimed it for his own.
They stopped to rest in the shiny room before leaving the tunnels. Jig stared at the designs, losing himself in memories. Little more than a week had passed since he came to this room, clumsily trying to spy on the adventurers. Here he had lied to Barius, which had saved Jig’s life but cost the life of his captain, which Jig considered to be a double blessing. Here they had debated whether or not to take Jig along, or to kill him and save themselves the effort. What would happen to him now?
“What are you going to do to me?” Riana asked. Apparently her mind had wandered the same trail as Jig’s.
“I will permit you to assist us in retrieving the rest of the treasure,” Barius said generously. “Afterward you will be turned over to the proper authorities. You are still a criminal, after all. Fret not, for I am certain they will take your cooperation into consideration.”
Riana nodded glumly, as though she had expected nothing more. Jig, on the other hand, was stunned. After all this, they would throw her into prison?
“That’s not fair! She helped us,” he protested. “She picked the lock on the Necromancer’s door. She showed me the javelins I used to try to kill Straum.”
He shouldn’t have brought that up. The prince whirled on him at the mention of how Jig, not Barius, had fought the dragon. “The old worm was weak and tired, and I would have killed him myself had you not interfered. As for that lock, if you will recall, she nearly died in the attempt.”
Jig started to argue, then thought better of it. No dragonchild would stop Barius from killing him this time. He looked at Darnak, but the dwarf only shook his head and looked away.
This started him wondering. If Barius planned to throw Riana away once he had finished using her, what did he plan for Jig? With Straum dead, Jig had begun to relax. But Straum had never been Jig’s enemy. If not for Barius and the others, Jig would have lived out his life and never once bothered the old dragon. Riana herself had warned that the humans would kill him when they had no further use for their so-called guide.
He started to make plans of his own as he ate. He held no illusions about the prince’s feelings toward him. Given the chance, Barius would kill him. Darnak wouldn’t stop him. Nobody would.
Could he run away? Abandon the treasure and return to the lair? It might work. But if Barius were angry enough, that could also bring the adventurers right back to the goblins’ cavern. Jig didn’t think he would be able to stop the slaughter a second time. The only other choice was to kill Barius now, before he had a chance to do the same to Jig.
He would have to be fast. An attack from behind. Barius was too good with a sword, so a fair fight was out of the question.
Smudge, picking up some hint of Jig’s plans, hopped off his shoulder and crawled into a corner of the room. There he began to build a web, which reinforced Jig’s sense of danger. Fire-spiders used webs not only to capture prey, but also for defense. Smudge was building a place to hide.
If only he knew how Darnak would react. In combat, the dwarf would protect his prince. But would he still feel the need to kill Jig if the prince was already dead? Would he understand why Jig had to kill Barius?
He would have to kill Ryslind as well, he realized. An attack on one brother earned the wrath of both. Though the wizard was half-dead already. That should make things easier.
Jig doubted Darnak would forgive the death of one prince, even if he understood the reasons. If Jig killed them both, he knew what Darnak would do. But if Jig didn’t act, the humans would eventually return, and goblins would die. Adventurers were like fleas. If you didn’t kill them right away, soon the blasted things were leaping into everything.
Jig had to kill them both. But he couldn’t be in two places at once, and Barius was clearly the more dangerous of the two brothers. He would have to kill Barius, then get to Ryslind before Darnak used the new club he had claimed from Straum’s collection to smash Jig’s skull. He had a feeling that this time Shadowstar wouldn’t be able to help him if he failed.
Maybe Riana could help. But how could he get to her without making the others suspicious? Besides, she appeared to be lost in her own despair. Her food sat untouched on the floor, and her glazed eyes stared into nothingness.
Jig glanced longingly at Smudge. How nice it would be to create his own web and hide there until the worst was over.
His best chance would be when they prepared to move out. Barius insisted on leading, which meant his back would be unguarded. Darnak had been walking with Ryslind to help support the wizard, which would make things a bit trickier. If he could kill Barius, then get to Ryslind fast enough . . . if Darnak hesitated for just a few seconds. . . .
Jig forced himself to finish eating, though his appetite had fled like a frightened goblin. His palms were moist where they rested on his thighs, but he didn’t wipe the sweat off. He didn’t want to do anything that might betray his nervousness. Anyone who grew up inside the tunnels would have known from one look at Smudge that something was up, but nobody here recognized that clue.
He waited while Darnak finished off his wine, while Barius chewed daintily on his meat, while Ryslind sipped at some water. Had they ever before taken this long to eat? Jig didn’t think so. They knew he was planning something, and they intended to torture him by making him wait. How long could it take to finish a bit of bread and cheese? Were human teeth so feeble?
At last Barius rose to his feet. “Beyond this tunnel lies glory.” He waved an arm at the tunnel. “At last I will be accorded my due respect.”
Jig forced himself to wait. He stood with the others, tried to shake out the stiffness in his legs, and grabbed his bag of gold. He slipped into line behind Barius. Not his usual place, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to act now. He shifted the sack to his left hand and slowly reached toward his sword. His fingers touched the hilt.
Had Darnak or Ryslind noticed? His body should hide the movement. He wanted to turn, to make sure they hadn’t seen, but he didn’t dare. If Darnak had seen, he would be raising his club to strike. He wondered if he would hear the damp thud of his own skull cracking, or if he would simply reappear in front of Tymalous Shadowstar, looking sheepish after his failure.
Would Shadowstar want me to do this?
Jig hesitated. He had promised to follow the god’s rules, but Shadowstar had been a bit vague as to exactly how those rules applied.
Respect the shadow and the light both, for both have their place in the world.
What was that supposed to mean? Was Barius the shadow or the light? Stupid metaphors. Still, Shadowstar had protested when Jig thought about abandoning Riana and the others to their deaths in Straum’s lair. He seemed to think killing was something to be done only as a last resort. It was a strange philosophy, one that would take some getting used to.
With a silent sigh, Jig started to put the sword away.
The sound of the blade returning to its sheath caught Barius’s attention. He whirled, and his eyes homed in on the half-bared sword. His lips tightened into a terrible grin.
“I knew one such as you could never be trusted,” Barius said. He sounded merry. He finally had an excuse to kill Jig, something he had wanted to do from the beginning. He tucked the Rod of Creation through his belt and slashed the air a few times with his own sword. Not knowing what else to do, Jig pulled his sword back out.
Barius promptly knocked it across the room.
“Jig!” Riana took a step after him, but Darnak caught her arm.
“This is how it has to be, lass.”
She struggled, but the dwarf’s grip was iron. “Why? Because your noble prince can’t stand the fact that Jig humiliated him time after time? Maybe Jig knows Barius means to kill him as soon as we reach the surface. Maybe he was afraid.”
Yes, he had been afraid. Now he was terrified. His sword was gone, and as his back touched the wall, he realized he had nowhere else to run. Fangs and claws were no match for steel, and Jig had never been much of a fighter anyway.
He glanced over and saw Smudge’s web right beside him, now waist high. Fire-spiders built quickly when they were frightened.
“I’m sorry,” Jig said. He hadn’t intended to lead Barius back to Smudge. He hoped Barius would ignore the spider. Was he so spiteful he would kill Jig’s pet once Jig was already dead?
“A bit late for apologies,” Barius said, misunderstanding. He raised his sword. “If it’s any consolation, I will be merciful. A single stroke to sever your head from your shoulders. A painless execution, which is better than you deserve.”
“If you want to be merciful, shut up and get it over with.”
Barius’s eyes widened. “Brave words from a goblin. Very well.”
Jig watched Barius flex his strong arms. Posing for the others, Jig figured. Typical. Jig straightened, determined to be brave just this once. He might not make it into songs or stories, but at least when he saw Shadowstar, he could say that he hadn’t flinched at the end. What would Shadowstar say when they met?
He remembered what the god had told him before.
Next time you should try to duck.
Jig screamed and rolled out of the way as the sword whistled over his head. His legs kicked madly, knocking Barius back. He tried to get up, but Barius kicked him in the side. Jig rolled over, clutching his gut. Barius stepped away, and his boot brushed Smudge’s web.
“Little runt,” Barius gasped. He glanced down at his leg. “Disgusting.” With his free hand, he reached down to brush the web free.
Any goblin would have known better. Even Barius might have known, had he stopped to think. Smudge’s web, like that of any fire-spider, was highly flammable. With an angry human looming over him, Smudge reacted the way he always did in the face of danger.
Barius screamed as flames enveloped his leg. He swatted his burning clothes, then stomped at the web. Smudge scurried back, flattening his body to the floor. He darted one way, then the other. Jig could see his legs waving in fear as he tried to get away, but Barius was too fast. Snarling like an animal, Barius turned so his foot was parallel to the wall.
“No!” Jig lunged, but he was too slow. Barius’s boot landed on the terrified Smudge. To Jig, the crunch of Smudge’s body sounded as loud as a dragon’s roar.