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  Nesstra struck Karn between the shoulder blades. He felt something crumple softly against his back. Then a sticky yellow foam was pouring over his arms and oozing rapidly down his legs. He tried to run, but he was stuck fast. Unable to move his limbs, he twisted his head to bring the elf into view.

  “Nesstra—what are you doing?” he said. She shook her head sadly, regret plainly visible in her dark eyes.

  “I told you not to thank me.”

  —

  “He saved my life.”

  Desstra had shed her wet disguise as Nesstra for the black-and-orange leathers that marked her as both Underhand and not. Though she had wiped off the golden makeup from her forearms, face, and neck, there were still streaks of it remaining in the folds of her long ears. No matter. She had more serious concerns than cosmetics.

  “He thought you were a wood elf,” said Tanthal. “A fellow surface dweller.” They stood on the bank of the same watercourse Desstra had only recently used to sneak into the lumber mill. They had come outside to be out of earshot of the other elves. Tanthal exercised a few practice swings with Whitestorm. Yelor had taken the key and shield for examination, but Tanthal had claimed the sword for his own.

  “I was poisoned. Paralyzed. He gave me the antidote.”

  “Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you now. You’re a dark elf. A pale, sickly thing that lurks in caves and crawls in the dirt with the worms. That’s how they see us.”

  Desstra wasn’t so sure. The Norrønur boy had felt so guilty at bringing a stranger into harm’s way. I promise you, I won’t let you die! he had said.

  “You weren’t there,” she told Tanthal. “You didn’t see the concern in his eyes.”

  Tanthal spat in disgust.

  “Then it shows what a good actress you are! Desstra, remember the stone I gave you to carry.”

  “It’s hard to forget such a valuable gift. A rock.” Yes, she thought. Keep right on rolling your eyes. Maybe you’ll find your brain back there.

  “Be like that stone,” admonished Tanthal, “strong as the rock of our home. You’ve done very well these last few days. Don’t taint my good opinion of you by letting your weak heart spoil it all now.”

  Desstra gazed down into the flowing waters. With the nocturnal vision of all dark elves, she could see her reflection in the river. Her skin looked silver in the light of the moons. Not sickly pale like it appeared in the sunshine. Perhaps Tanthal was right. The dark was her home. She was back with her kind, where she belonged. But Karn wasn’t home. And he wasn’t with his kind. He’d come all this way for Thianna, and he’d told Desstra how different Thianna was from him. She recalled how willing he was to do anything for her, despite their differences. Even die.

  Would Tanthal die for her? She didn’t think so. She remembered the way he’d shoved a fellow elf down the roof in an effort to get Karn. Tanthal wouldn’t die for her, but she was pretty sure he’d kill her if it served his purposes. Was that what it meant to be strong as the rock of your home?

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “ ‘A little finger holds the fate, where a crescent commands a straight. Upon the arc where shatters wheel, alter course and come to heel.’ ”

  “Yes, yes. I’m the one who found the riddle, remember? ‘In Sunken Palace waters reign, King and Dragon find their bane. When snake and cockerel sundering, seek ye then the Marble King.’ But what do we do?”

  “We follow the next verse of the riddle to Gordasha. We find the horn. We take it back to the Svartálfaheim Mountains. I’m hailed as a hero, and you get to graduate and shed that gross orange lizard skin for proper armor. Then, when the Underhand masters the use of the horn, you can laugh with me as our people force that old worm Orm to burn Norrøngard down. Thousands die. Everybody wins.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Everybody.”

  —

  “I am so dumb.”

  “No argument here,” replied the giantess. She was still bound to the tree trunk, only now Karn was tied up as well. He was lashed to a chair positioned a few feet away from her. At least they were facing each other.

  “I really should have seen it. I mean, when we went into the grave, Nesstra—I mean Desstra—she didn’t really need a light to see.”

  “Dark elves wouldn’t.”

  “And the skin under her shirt was all pale. When I saw her belly—”

  “You saw her belly?”

  “She was injured. I treated the wound. The skin was all white.”

  “And that didn’t clue you in?”

  “I thought it was the poison.”

  “Sure. Okay. Poison often turns people into dark elves.”

  “I’m ignoring you,” Karn said, frowning. “But the cold didn’t bother her, either. That really should have tipped me off that she wasn’t from Nelenia.”

  “I’ll give you that one,” said Thianna. “None of you take to cold like an Ymirian.”

  Karn stamped his feet in frustration.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he said.

  “Sure was,” Thianna replied.

  “You don’t have to keep agreeing with me!”

  “Then say something I disagree with!”

  Karn scowled. Then he grinned. “It’s good to see you, Thianna.”

  “You too, Short Stuff,” she replied, teasing him with her first nickname for him. “I wish it were under better circumstances. But I’ll take what I can get. How’d you find me?”

  “I just looked for a wave of destruction and knew you’d be at the center,” he laughed. “No, really, it was a bit more complicated than that.”

  Karn gave Thianna a quick rundown of everything that had happened since the wyvern snatched him away from trading in the markets of Bense.

  “But what about you?” he asked. “How did you get here?”

  “After I left Norrøngard last winter,” she said, “I found a ship in Bense that would take me across to Araland. I worked in Pil Meck for a while, loading cargo. Seems I’m good at lifting things.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, well, I got bored, so I went farther south. I spent a few days in Tidge. It’s a little town on the Shyburn River. I had just gotten into some interesting trouble there when the wyvern showed up.”

  “You could talk to it, though? It didn’t just snatch you out of the sky like it did to me?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t really know what it was after. I thought maybe Orm just wanted his sword back. Anyway, you know what happened next. The dragon sent me to Castlebriar to search for the horn.”

  “He didn’t have any trouble convincing you?”

  “I was heading in that general direction already. Flying is a lot faster than walking. And he promised me more answers about my past if I found the horn. Anyway, I found the dark elf team headquartered here in the mill. They had stolen the Grave Hill key from the Order of the Oak, so I stole it from them. I hid it in my room at the Windy Willows, where you found it. I was just on my way to see Greenroot about it when the dark elves grabbed me.”

  “It must have taken quite a few of them.”

  “I did make them work for it.”

  “I imagine. Anyway, what do we do now?”

  “Oh, that’s the fun part,” said Yelor, striding into the room, along with just about every elf in the mill. “Now you get to die.”

  “What’s fun about that?” said Karn.

  “We get to watch,” replied the elf.

  —

  Several elves carried Thianna’s tree trunk to the edge of the saw pit. Karn’s chair was hauled over as well. The boards covering the pit had been lifted up in one corner. An elf with a long pole jabbed savagely at something below. A hissing came from the dark. Karn wondered what kind of creature was down there. He’d never heard anything like it. The noise sounded like a snake’s hiss, but it was punctuated with shrill howling sounds—almost a caterwaul.

  “Oh, someone’s not in a good mood,” said Yelor. “Don’t worry. It’ll hav
e a happy tummy soon.”

  “Planning to jump in, are you?” said Thianna.

  “I think its appetite calls for something bigger,” replied the elf. “If only there was something large and useless lying around that we could feed it. Oh wait, there is.”

  Karn looked away from the gloating Yelor. Suddenly, he recognized Desstra among the elves. He studied her now that she had transformed from wood elf to dark elf. Her pale white skin was almost skeletal against the black-and-orange leathers of her Underhand armor.

  “I guess you liked me better when I was Nesstra the wood elf,” she said scornfully.

  “Wouldn’t you?” he replied. “Nesstra was my friend.”

  “That was an act,” she said.

  “It didn’t have to be. If you can pretend something so well, you can be it.”

  “This is who I am—the real me,” she said. “Do I disgust you now?”

  “You don’t disgust me at all,” said Karn. “You disappoint me. I just thought you were someone better than you are.”

  “We’re all better than you,” Tanthal sneered. “Even the least of us. Even Desstra. Too bad you won’t live to see us overrun Norrøngard with dragon fire.”

  “I saved your life,” said Karn, ignoring Tanthal and keeping his gaze on Desstra.

  The little dark elf approached, bending and putting her hand on Karn’s chest. She gripped the collar of his woolen long coat for a moment.

  “Thank you for that,” she said, stepping away. “Goodbye, Karn. At least you found what you came for.” Then Desstra turned and walked away.

  Tanthal shook his head.

  “Just like Desstra to leave when the fun starts,” he said.

  “Enough,” said Yelor. “We need to be off. Let’s get this going-away party started.” He motioned to the elves holding Thianna. They upended her tree trunk with a heave and tipped it over the edge of the saw pit. The frost giantess slid right off the log, disappearing into the darkness of the pit with a cry of “Troll dung!”

  Before Karn could shout his anger, he was lifted and tossed, chair and all, into the hole after her.

  Karn lay in a pile of splintered wood. The chair had smashed to bits when it struck the hard-packed dirt floor of the pit. It had mostly broken Karn’s fall. Mostly.

  “Are you okay?” cried Thianna, rushing to him. Free of the tree trunk, the slack in her chains made them easy to slip off. Karn climbed unsteadily to his feet. They stood in a small circle of light cast by the hole in the pit above.

  “I think so,” he said. He pulled the phosphorescent stone from his pocket and shook it until it glowed. “Out of the stew pot…”

  “And into the fire,” Thianna finished. “Never been too crazy about fire.”

  In the shadows outside their pool of light, something hissed loudly. The saw pit was long and rectangular, to accommodate cutting tall trees. Whatever it was sounded as if it was at the far end. Karn wrinkled his nose at a musky smell in the air.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Guess we’re about to find out,” Thianna replied.

  Karn looked around the pit. Aside from piles of sawdust, there was a bucket of water nearby that had obviously been placed for the mystery creature to drink. But he didn’t see anything of use.

  “If only we had some sort of weapon.”

  “I might be able to do something about that.” Thianna selected one of the chair legs. Sticking it in the water bucket, she stirred the wood in the water and chanted, “Skapa kaldr skapa kaldr skapa kaldr skapa kaldr.”

  Smiling, Thianna raised the chair leg, now with a sizable chunk of solid ice on one end.

  “Instant club,” she said. Then, to Karn’s look of incredulity, she added, “I’ve been practicing.”

  “I can see.”

  “Let me make you one too.”

  Unfortunately for them both, whatever the something was, it chose that moment to spring out of the darkness at them. Amazingly, it seemed to leap nearly the whole length of the pit.

  Thianna had an impression of a fuzzy face and paws with wicked claws, but also of a long, scaled tail. Then it was on her, and it was time to act.

  The frost giantess brought her club of ice around in a vicious swing. She struck the creature hard on the head, knocking it aside. It sprang away again, vanishing into the dark.

  “Ymir’s rotten toes! What in the world was that?”

  “Surprised? I’m told it’s called a tatzelwurm,” called Yelor from above. “It’s apparently native to the hills of these parts. Also called a springwurm.”

  “I can see why,” said Thianna.

  “Well, you are the clever one,” said Yelor. “But do carry on. Don’t let me interrupt you again. It’s quite entertaining watching.”

  “It’s even more fun down here,” called Karn. “Why don’t you join us and see?”

  Yelor made to answer but was interrupted by the sound of shouting from elsewhere in the mill. “Go and see what that is,” he said irritably to an underling.

  Thianna kept her eyes on the darkness, holding her makeshift club at the ready.

  The shouting noises turned to sounds of a struggle. Karn and Thianna heard Yelor swearing, then the noise of running as the dark elves were pulled away.

  “What’s going on?” Thianna asked.

  “Trouble for them can only be good for us,” Karn replied.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t see how it helps our immediate circumstances,” she said.

  Then the tatzelwurm sprang again.

  This time it came at Karn. Suddenly, a feline face was barreling right at him, vicious claws extended. Without a weapon to defend himself, he thought he was doomed. But the tatzelwurm’s attack fell inches short of its mark.

  Thianna, nearly as fast as the creature, had gripped it by the tail and yanked it back before the claws found their target. It spun around to face her, and Karn got a good look at it.

  The tatzelwurm was like a cross between a wildcat and a snake. It had the head and forelimbs of a cat but a long, legless body like a serpent. The hissing and caterwauling suddenly made sense.

  Unfortunately, Thianna now had a tatzelwurm by the tail. It coiled on itself, swiping at her. Karn ran forward and kicked it savagely in the side. It hissed and spun back and forth, not sure whom to attack.

  “Let go of it,” Karn yelled.

  “Let go?”

  “Yes, pick up your club and let go. I can’t drive it off if you’re holding its tail.”

  Thianna understood, releasing the tatzelwurm and grabbing her club. She struck the creature in the flank, and when it spun to face her again, Karn gave it another kick.

  Under assault from both sides, it leapt back into the darkness of the far side of the pit.

  “That thing can really make an impressive jump!” said Thianna.

  “Admire it later, kill it now,” Karn said. Then he looked down at his long coat. The tatzelwurm’s attack had been a nearer miss than he realized. The fabric of his coat was torn. He saw a small pouch tucked under his collar. It didn’t belong to him. Karn pulled it out, realizing instantly that Desstra must have slipped it into his clothing when she had said goodbye.

  He had no reason to trust Desstra, but the pouch hadn’t immediately exploded or caught fire. It was bound with a small string. He pulled it open—a strong but not unpleasant smell wafted out. Karn saw that it contained what looked like crushed leaves.

  While Karn puzzled over the herb, Thianna was advancing slowly toward the other side of the pit. She reasoned that the tatzelwurm’s big advantage lay in its ability to jump great distances. If she could close the distance, she’d remove that advantage. She swung her club back and forth to discourage attacks.

  What that smell? Sniff sniff sniff.

  Thianna stopped her advance. She had heard a voice, distinctly, from the darkness.

  Something smell good! Sniff sniff. Something smell very good! Big girl with stick have smell?

  “I don’t have any smell,” she cal
led.

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Karn from behind her.

  “The tatzelwurm, I think.”

  “What? How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know,” said Thianna, though she thought she might have an idea. The Horn of Osius gave its user the ability to talk to reptiles. The Thicans she had encountered could all communicate mentally with their wyverns. Had her experiences awoken this ability in her—a gift from her human heritage? The tatzelwurm was clearly part reptile.

  “Tatzelwurm,” she called, “is that you?”

  The creature sprang out of the darkness again. But this time it stopped just out of Thianna’s reach. Its paws were on the ground, claws retracted, but its nose was twitching fiercely. It stuck its face in Thianna’s own.

  Sniff sniff sniff. Big girl not smell nice. Bad bad bad.

  “Speak for yourself, buster. I’ve been tied up for days without a bath.”

  Must find good smell. Sniff sniff.

  The tatzelwurm sprang past Thianna, bounding toward Karn. She raced after it.

  When she reached the Norrønur, he was pinned against the far wall, clearly uncomfortable but unharmed. The tatzelwurm was running his nose up and down Karn’s body, looking for the source of the scent.

  Smell smell smell, sniff sniff sniff. Me want that smell.

  “What’s it doing?” said Karn. Thianna realized he couldn’t hear the creature in his mind the way she could.

  “Something’s driving it wild. Some scent. Are you carrying anything smelly? What do you have on you?”

  Karn held out the pouch.

  “Is it this?” he asked.

  Yes! Sniff sniff! Good good!

  The tatzelwurm sprang at the pouch, knocking it with its nose. A little of the herb fell to the ground. The creature dropped and rubbed its whiskers in the crushed leaves.

  Yes! Yes! Yes! Sniff sniff sniff! More! More! More!

  It writhed on the ground, flipping onto its back and making a strange noise.

  “Is it purring?” Thianna asked. The sound was more of a purr-hiss-purr-hiss.

  “I think so,” said Karn, smiling. He tossed some more of the substance over to the animal, which practically tied itself in knots, it was squirming so much in ecstasy.