A Meddle of Wizards. Alexandra Rushe

was no going back. She could accept it or go mad.

      “Late yesterday afternoon, I saw smoke over that a-way,” Tiny was saying. He pointed to the northwest. “So, I wandered over fer a gander. There be a big fire and lots o’ dead folks.”

      Brefreton nodded. “Gertie and I saw the fire too.”

      “So, that’s where you went,” Mauric said. “Was it Glonoff?”

      Gertie lowered her snout. “Magog. He’s awake and he’s not happy. He shattered the temple and flattened the hills around it. Even the temple stones were burning.” She shifted on her hind legs. “We’d best be moving. Finlars are rare in Shad Amar, red trolls even rarer. Hara will describe us to Glonoff and he’ll be thrunched.”

      “The blizzard will have slowed him down,” Mauric said.

      Gertie grunted. “Yes, but not for long. Every goggin in these mountains will be after us.”

      As if on cue, an eerie howl sundered the peaceful morning.

      “You’re right, mor. Look.” Mauric pointed to a dozen shaggy shadows on the next ridge.

      “Vuks.” Gertie pronounced the strange word with an ooh sound. “Magog’s pet wolves. They’ve caught our scent.” She smirked. “Glonoff thinks he’s got us, but he doesn’t know about Tiny.”

      “And glad I be, too,” Tiny said, his eyes widening in alarm. “‘Tiny, me boy, have no truck with wizards.’ That’s what me mam allus says.”

      “I’m a wizard,” Gertie pointed out.

      “Oh, aye, but that be different,” Tiny said. “You be special, don’t you know. Brefreton, too.”

      “Hear that, Gertie?” Brefreton winked at the troll. “We’re special.” He stared at the pinkening skyline with a thoughtful expression. “It might be wiser to change our plans. Better, I think, to head for Durngaria, instead of going over the mountains into Tannenbol. Glonoff won’t expect that. And, as an added bonus, the vuks won’t venture into the grasslands. The Durngesi tribesmen have no liking for goggins.”

      “Excellent notion, Bree,” Gertie said. “We’ll make for the Shara and catch a barge into Gambollia.”

      “Gambollia?” Raine asked.

      “The largest city in Durngaria and the only civilization, some would say,” Gertie explained. “From there, we’ll secure passage north.”

      “I like it.” Brefreton stroked the reddish bristles on his chin. “But I won’t be coming with you. I need to warn Zora that the Eye has been stolen.”

      “Zora?” Raine asked, swallowing her dismay at the news that Brefreton would not be coming with them. She was just starting to like the wizard, and she didn’t care for the notion of breaking up their little company. “Who’s that?”

      “A slip of a girl and the queen of Tannenbol.” Gertie gave Brefreton a sly look. “Bree’s terrified of her.”

      “You know that’s not true,” Brefreton objected. “I practically raised the child.”

      “Hmm.” Gertie was plainly unconvinced. “We’ll do as you suggest. When do you plan to tell your precious Reba you lost her god stone?”

      Brefreton groaned. “Gods, I’d forgotten about that. She’s going to be angry, isn’t she?”

      “Apoplectic, and I’m glad, the breedbating, trundle-tailed—”

      “Please, Gertie,” Brefreton said, holding up his hand. “We’ve trouble enough without you rousing the wrath of the gods by blaspheming.” He tugged on his auburn ponytail and seemed to reach a decision. “It’s settled then. I’ll catch up with you at the Neatfoot in ten days’ time.” He turned to the giant. “Tiny, I’m counting on you to keep them safe in my absence.”

      Tiny’s eyes filled with tears. “I won’t let you down, and thas’ the truth.” He wiped his face and gave Mauric a watery glare. “And I ain’t crying, if that be what yer thinking. The wind be in my eyes. That be all.”

      “The Neatfoot Inn and don’t be late,” Brefreton said again, and threw himself off the mountain.

      Chapter 11

      An Unexpected Visit

      “Brefreton,” Raine shrieked, rushing to the edge of the cliff.

      She watched in horror as he did a freefall off the mountain, his tattered cloak whipping in the wind. Down he plunged, the rocks rushing to meet him. He opened his arms at the last second and turned into a hawk, soaring away with a keening cry.

      Mauric yanked Raine from the brink. “Please,” he said. “My heart can’t take it.”

      Tiny strung their packs on his belt and Raine and Mauric climbed onto his shoulders. Gertie shapeshifted into a bird and fluttered around the giant’s head.

      “I hears you, Gertie,” Tiny said in response to the bird’s insistent chirping. “You don’t has to keep a-cheep cheep cheeping in m’ ear. Them pesky vuks ain’t gon’ catch old Tiny.”

      With a last twitter, the bird darted away. Raine heard a horrible snarl and looked back. She got a good look at the vuks, and wished she hadn’t. These goggins were big—roughly the size of a large horse and vaguely lupine in shape—with gray, scaly hides. Their eyes were black with burning red centers and their slathering mouths hung open, displaying razor-sharp teeth. The leader threw back its gnarled head and howled, a soulless moan that turned Raine’s bones to jelly.

      “Listen to them pups,” Tiny said with a chuckle. “Right nattered they be.”

      “Get us out of here, Tiny.” Raine nudged the giant’s shoulder. “Now. They frighten me.”

      “Right-o, Rainey.” Tiny jerked forward in his peculiar, mile-eating gait, and they left the vuks behind.

      As they tromped along, Raine braced for a recurrence of the giant-itis. To her relief, the roller coaster swell of nausea and the blinding headache did not return. Tiny clumped out of the high reaches and the bitter cold lessened. After a time, Raine relaxed and began to enjoy herself. Riding a giant, she decided, had a rhythm of its own, rather like riding a camel. Or so she imagined. Camels were few and far between where she came from.

      “Stop humming,” Mauric said. He sounded cross. “You’ve been making that racket this hour and more.”

      “The earth is singing.” Raine laughed in delight. “Don’t you hear it?”

      “All I hear is you humming and humming. Stop it. It sets my teeth on edge.”

      Raine peeked around the giant’s head at the warrior on the other side. Mauric’s handsome features were drawn and his skin was a delicate shade of green.

      “Sorry,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

      “I just did.”

      Whew, trolls didn’t have a monopoly on grumpy. Knowing what it was like to be ill, Raine did her best not to hum, tapping her foot instead in rhythm with the vibration thrumming around them. It was a fine clear day and they made good time. By late afternoon, the mountains were a distant memory and they were plodding through rolling grassland.

      “Thas’ it,” Tiny announced, jerking to a stop as the sun lowered in the sky. “I be tuckered. What say we make camp?”

      Mauric’s only answer was a groan, so Raine took charge, sliding down from the giant’s shoulder to look around. They were in a pleasant hollow sheltered by several large oaks. A gurgling stream nearby provided fresh water.

      “This will do quite well, Tiny,” Raine said, rubbing her hands together to warm them. “Hand me the bags.”

      Tiny unfastened the saddlebags and dropped them onto the grass. Mauric