A Meddle of Wizards. Alexandra Rushe
be sick?” Tiny’s mouth trembled. “It be my fault, don’t it?” His face crumpled. “Aw, the poor little thing.”
“Tro, are you crying?”
Tiny wiped his eyes on the edge of his kilt. “You think jes ’cause I be big I don’t has feelings? Well, you be wrong. Giants be sensitive, don’t you know.”
“I’d give you a hanky, but I’m fresh out of vests.”
“You would?” Tiny’s huge eyes widened. “And you being the Rowan’s nephew and all?”
“You know about that, do you? Who’s been yapping?”
“Gertie tole me.” The giant’s chin quivered. “Thankee fer the offer of the hanky. That be right kindly of you, warrior.”
“I’m a regular sweetheart. Ask anybody. Ask Gertie. Oh, wait, you can’t because she’s not here.” Mauric picked up a rock and threw it. “Do you suppose it would bruise your tender feelings too terribly to look for that cave now?”
“Reckon not.” Tiny lumbered to his feet and indicated a clump of peaks in the distance. “If you needs me, I be over there.”
The giant’s outline shimmered. With a single disjointed step, he left the rocky gorge and reappeared a mile away on the side of the next mountain. Another step and he disappeared altogether.
Mauric returned to Raine. “How are you doing?”
Raine’s teeth rattled. “F-freezing.”
“The giant has gone to find us a place to spend the night.” Mauric shifted his weight and looked down at her, his expression anxious. “Maybe a little watered wine will do the trick.”
A shudder racked her body. “No. God, no.”
“You’re right, of course. Stupid of me to ask. Wine would only make it worse.” He gave an anemic tuft of grass a vicious kick. “Damn Gertie and Bree for leaving. Horses I know. Fighting I know, but I’m no healer.”
Raine gazed at him through bleary eyes. She was sick, but Mauric was the one coming undone.
“Maybe I’ll try a little watered wine after all,” she said, taking pity on him.
His face brightened. “You will? Good, good.” He reached for the leather pack and stiffened. “Uh-oh. Here’s trouble.”
He didn’t sound worried, Raine noticed. He sounded eager. Had the wizards returned? She followed the direction of Mauric’s gaze and gasped. Three ugly shapes had entered the little valley. Squat and muscular with greenish-gray, leathery skin, the creatures shambled toward them. Their long arms trailed the ground and the spiked clubs they carried in their clawed hands dug ruts in the rocky soil. Drooling mouths hung open, exposing jagged teeth. Ragged holes in their skulls served as ears. Their dull, black eyes were unevenly placed, giving them the lopsided look of a melted troll. Filthy skins hung from their waists, makeshift coverings that made Tiny’s hide clothes seem couture. Raine took a closer look and shuddered. The skins looked human.
She made a grab for Mauric’s arm. “W-what are those things?”
“Goggins. Magog made them.” Mauric picked her up off the boulder and settled her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “These hills are swarming with them—one reason I didn’t want you wandering off. They keep the Shads in, and the rest of us out. These particular grotties are called ograks. They’re stupid, mean, and always on the lookout for their next meal.”
The largest of the ograks, an ugly brute with a wide scar down the middle of his face, lurched closer with a hideous growl.
“Are they dangerous?” she asked in rising alarm.
“One ograk is easy. Two, merely annoying. But three?” Mauric grinned. “Three should be diverting.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Raine demanded. “Surely you’re not thinking of—”
She was interrupted by a reptilian hiss.
“There be three of us and one of you, man-thing.” Scar Face slammed his cudgel into the ground. “We be hungry. Give us the she-thing and maybe we lets you go.”
The smallest ograk bared his teeth, exposing a set of broken choppers. “I says we keeps ’em both.”
“Shut yer gob.” Scar Face swung his club at Snaggle Tooth. “Nobody asked you.”
Snaggle Tooth yelped and ducked.
“I knows her.” The third ograk peered at Raine. He was a squatty creature with a black patch over one eye. “She be the she-thing on them coins.”
Scar Face scowled. “What coins?”
“The ones we got off them Shads.”
“Lummox,” Scar Face said with a growl. “That be Hara, Magog’s High Priestess. This scrawny morsel o’ meat ain’t Hara.”
“Maybe not, but they favors,” Black Patch insisted stubbornly. “Cast yer peepers at ’er again. You’ll see.”
With an effort, Scar Face focused his mismatched eyes on Raine. The ograk shifted his flat feet with a grunt of surprise. “You be right. She do favor Hara a bit.”
“What of it?” Snaggle Tooth edged closer. “She be sumpin to munch on.”
Scar Face swung at him again. This time the club connected. “I said shut it, you.”
Snaggle Tooth grabbed his arm and howled in pain.
Black Patch turned on Scar Face with a snarl. “Leave ’im alone, Skrell. Yer allus pickin’ on Krog.”
Skrell hissed in fury and leapt at Black Patch. The ograks rolled to the ground, clawing and biting one another. Snaggle Tooth danced around them. With a howl of frustration, he flung himself into the fight. The noise was deafening.
“Excellent.” Mauric’s deep voice hummed with satisfaction. “Ograks are nothing if not predictable.” Turning, he strode over to a tall pine and tossed Raine onto the lowest branch.
She swayed and grabbed the trunk of the tree for support. “What are you doing?”
“Something I’m good at, by Tro.” Mauric showed his teeth. “If they kill me, throw yourself out of the tree and hope you break your neck. You don’t want to be alive when they start to eat you.”
“What? That’s a horrible thing to say. Don’t you—”
Mauric drew his sword and trotted toward the ograks.
“Mauric, get back here. Mauric? Mauric.”
Of all the jackass, lame brained, macho, asinine . . . Fuming, Raine wedged herself between two branches and waited.
Skrell got on top of Black Patch and punched him in the nose. “Stupid lump, if you be right, the she-thing be valuable.”
Snaggle Tooth wheezed and got to his feet. He’d lost another tooth, and his face was bloodied from the scuffle. “I don’t cares what you says, Skrell. I wants to eat now.”
Skrell punched Black Patch again for good measure and huffed to his feet. “Always thinking wiv yer stomach, Krog. We takes her to Glonoff and gets much meat. Then we stuffs ourselves until we bloat.”
Mauric swaggered up to them. “From the smell of your filthy carcasses, I’d say you’d moved past bloat and gone straight to rot.”
The ograks gaped at him.
“Hello?” Mauric waved his sword at them. “Have the squirrels made a nest between your ears? I said you stink.”
The goggins forgot their quarrel and charged Mauric. He stood his ground, balancing on the balls of his feet. Raine held her breath, horrified at his stupidity, but unable to look away. The big idiot was going to get himself