Although Wilson’s role in the dungeon raid was a backup if things went wrong, part of him was unashamedly pleased they had. More interesting this way.

  Wargs ran snarling from the ground level caves. Not far behind, goblins poured from every crevice. Rather more than his crew had expected. This raid could have been a suicide mission.

  “Good job we’re here,” he said to his two companions.

  Hubert huffed, while Sharptooth snarled. They were primed for flight or fight—flight being much the more sensible option in these circumstances.

  “I think you know what to do, boys,” Wilson said.

  Sharptooth howled. Hubert bellowed.

  For a few moments the goblins stopped. Their wargs pricked up their ears.

  Twerk emerged from his hiding place and gave them a wave.

  All was motion once more, as the horde charged Wilson’s position.

  Bears’ and wargs’ top speed is about the same—mighty fast compared to anything a human could muster. But gnomes are pretty fleet footed too, and Wilson wasn’t far behind his two companions as they turned and ran from the residents of Strong Club.

  Hubert reached the wooden bridge first, bounding across. Sharptooth and Wilson weren’t far behind. Even so, the gnome heard the snarls of the chasing wargs behind him, and the back of his neck prickled in fear.

  Reaching the other side made him feel a tad safer; but the fastest wargs were already on the bridge.

  He hacked at the ropes and posts that supported the bridge. On the other side, Mental had already begun the work, her great axe rising and falling. She chopped through the guide rope on her side, and the bridge wobbled, throwing wargs into the gorge.

  Neither of them felt like leaving things there, and they continued their hacking until the bridge fell.

  The first goblins arrived and shouted their empty threats across the divide.

  “Feels like a rather limited contribution to this mission,” Wilson said.

  “You can’t be the hero of every story,” Jenkins advised. “If I was on the other side of this chasm, I’d be all riled up, taking on every opponent, until I got myself killed. You’ve got to play to your strengths.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Can’t help thinking we’ve made it harder for the others to escape.”

  “They agreed to the plan and accepted the risks. You dwell on things too much, gnome.” She dodged a goblin arrow. “Think we ought to move. These green bastards are going to find a target eventually.”

  “Hold on a bit longer. We need to keep them occupied.”

  “Keep them occupied? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

  ***

  Ashlyn and her companions readied their weapons. Outside the guard room, goblins ran past, heading for the cave exit. It would only take one curious soul to peer inside, and they’d be done for.

  A cacophony of goblin shouts and warg howls reached them. Ashlyn knew Wilson had revealed himself and was leading Strong Club’s inhabitants away. The patter of feet outside the guardroom had stopped.

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  Jaelin nodded. Now was their chance.

  The Explorer led them out, heading deeper into the cave. He risked using the Rod of Light, but was careful with it, barely revealing what lay ahead. The cave became a tunnel that burrowed deep into the cliff. They followed it, the noise from outside receding. Greenblade dimmed, as the warg threat diminished.

  They reached a connecting passageway on their left. Lurin fingered the stone that hung on a chain around his neck, then nodded his approval. They took the passage. At its end, a second tunnel, much like the one they had left, descended into the depths.

  “Could come from the cave explored by the others,” Randall said, looking up and down the tunnel’s length. “We wait?”

  “Aye,” said Lurin.

  The waiting was uncomfortable. They could be discovered at any moment. It always felt better to be moving, or doing something. Water dripped slowly from the roof of the tunnel where they stood, a persistent and irritating noise. Rilie spun her sling, and the two dwarves looked impatient.

  Jaelin held up a hand, and they readied themselves. Footsteps. They were coming down the tunnel towards them. Ashlyn thought she could hear muttering, but couldn’t make out if it was human or goblin.

  “Because I said so,” came a human voice.

  “Bletcher?” Jaelin asked. “Is that you?” He shone the light up the tunnel.

  Bletcher appeared blinking into the light, his one arm held up to protect his eyes. “See?” he said. “The staff would have warned me if there were enemies.”

  Tree followed him, his mouth set in a manner that suggested he was close to losing his patience. “Well met,” he said. “No one harmed?”

  “Not us. Just a few goblins,” Randall boasted. “You?”

  Larik, Georg, Victor, and Eddie appeared behind them.

  “Nothing that will stop me,” Pecs said.

  He had a flesh wound on his upper arm, his chain mail shirt sliced open. Otherwise, Ashlyn saw no sign of injuries.

  The Explorer and Tree made to set off.

  “Not pulling rank, or anything,” Randall said. “But it’d be better if my cousin and I took the lead. There could be secret passages, and traps. Goblins are nothing if not devious bastards.”

  “Agreed,” Larik said. “This stuff is your area of expertise.”

  “Fine,” Tree got out through gritted teeth.

  “We’ll protect the rear,” Jaelin added.

  Ashlyn shared a look with Mila as the two scouts moved to the back, not quite sure what Tree’s problem was.

  The dwarves led them on. The tunnel took them farther underground. The feeling of rock pressing down on them grew. A musty, dungy smell grew stronger. As the passage levelled out, they began to pass rooms, with open entrances that had been cut from the rock. Randall or Lurin would peer inside for a few moments, then return.

  “Warg pit,” was their only comment, and they would move on.

  Ashlyn was just relieved there were no wargs inside. She thought about Wilson’s distraction. He and Mental would have had the bridge cut for a while now. Thwarted, surely the goblins and their animals would start returning to the dungeon? They could run into them at any moment. The wargs hadn’t come past the guardroom they had hidden in—which meant there was some other exit the creatures used. Somewhere up ahead.

  The tunnel opened onto a large underground space, at least thirty feet high. They stood in the tunnel’s lip, studying the next part of the dungeon. The square-shaped cavern before them was the nexus of Strong Club. A score of tunnels ended here, linking it to the surface.

  “Do you see anything?” Larik asked.

  Randall held up one hand for silence.

  Rilie swung her sling about.

  Ashlyn gave Bletcher a questioning look, but he only shrugged apologetically.

  Tree sighed loudly behind them.

  Lurin and Randall conferred. “Two groups of goblins,” Randall said at last. “Stationed in two of the larger tunnel exits. About a score in all, we reckon. We could take them. But first, they’d see us coming. Second, those goblins and wargs who exited this place in such a hurry could come back just as fast. You don’t need me to tell you, we could be in real trouble if they catch on that we’re here. Those damned wargs will sniff us out in no time.”

  Ashlyn was quickly forming the opinion that dungeon raiding wasn’t as fun as it sounded.

  “What about that chamber?” Larik asked the dwarf.

  Ashlyn had to crane her neck past those in front to see what he referred to. A wide entrance was flanked by two square pillars. She could make out a flickering light from inside the chamber. It looked more than promising.

  “I was getting to that,” Randall complained. “Clearly, it needs to be explored. My suggestion is some of us wait here, keep an eye on things, while a few of us check it out.”

  “Time is of the essence,” Ashlyn reminded everyone. “We want to be in and out.”

  “I’ll go,” Mila said. “I’ll come straight back here.”

  “On your own?” said Randall. “You need support if you’re seen.”

  “The point is not to be seen. Company will just complicate things.” She didn’t wait for anyone’s approval, leaving the protection of their tunnel.

  Mila had to cross the open space of the cavern to reach the entrance to the chamber. It seemed inevitable that she would be spotted—tunnels faced her from all angles. Ashlyn’s heart hammered in her chest; her grip on her sword hilt became sweaty. If I’m this nervous, how does Jaelin feel?

  But Mila was fast, and quiet. She reached the chamber without challenge, and slipped inside.

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