“Stevie Bone!” I whispered, skidding to a stop. My short legs had carried me far enough, so I could afford to pause to catch my breath.

  Kraine hadn’t just claimed a place of power, but he had called his patron deity down to it—or so I theorized. Without a method to confirm my suspicions, perhaps it was a leap in logic. However, what I had encountered didn’t feel right. Maka had said deities and other entities couldn’t exert their presence or directly interact with the mortal world. It felt as if the skeletal presence was doing just that.

  Mana Sense has progressed to Apprentice Rank 6!

  Mana Wielding has progressed to Apprentice Rank 8!

  thirty-two

  Ozman woke before me the following morning and poked me through the bars. I was in the midst of a particularly violent nightmare and sat up in my cot, startled, and swatted him away. The salt-and-pepper-haired man laughed as my surprised movements tipped the cot over and I landed on the hard stone floor with a loud thump.

  “It’s still early, isn’t it?” I asked, glancing up and down the cellblock. Snores echoed down the corridors as the other prisoners remained wrapped in their blankets. Because of the lack of natural light on the underground level, there was no way for me to figure out the time of day. However, my internal body clock claimed it was still early.

  After fleeing Kraine’s wing the previous evening, I had tried to explore Grog’s Table. However, the “palace” guard had blocked my exit. Apparently, there was a shrike on the loose and no vulnerable individuals or prisoners could leave Grog’s Throne. The shaman worried that the latter would use the chaos to flee the city.

  As a result, I had spent the evening with Doctor Whoo. Following Hruk’s assurances, I let her out of the solitary cell but blocked the exit ways out of the floor. Then we ended up playing fetch with a leg bone, of all things. I assumed it was a game shrike mothers played to keep the little ones entertained. Or Doctor didn’t understand why I’d throw away a perfectly good bone and wanted to me to keep it for future use. The latter felt true when after a quarter hour she plopped down and snapped it in half with her beak before attacking the marrow within.

  Eventually, Doctor Whoo tired herself out and returned her attention to the leftover pile of meat. Over three-quarters remained. Her original size would’ve likely eaten twice the quantity in one meal. I hoped the satiation would carry over even after Satchel Monster ended. Shrinking Doctor Whoo down before feeding her would reduce my expenses significantly.

  “Get up!” Ozman hissed, poking me through the bars again when I lay on the cell’s floor, refusing to move.

  “What is it?” I moaned, rubbing my eyes. “Is it morning already?”

  “Should be a bit before dawn,” he replied.

  “Why in the name of all the stinking gods are you up so early?”

  “I didn’t sleep at all. It’s taken non-stop effort, but I’ve completed your new toy.”

  On hearing Ozman’s words, I jumped to attention. My legs had gotten tangled in the cot and blanket, and it took me a moment to get myself free. When our eyes met, an ear-to-ear smile spread across Ozman’s face. He held one of Curry’s rib bones through the bars and was using it as an implement for poking. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed how runes and geometric shapes covered the forearm-long piece of bone. More importantly, the stolen Aether core sat on its end, surrounded by a crisscrossing network of skinny bone.

  I scanned the creation with Mana Sense. It lit up with the brown and gray lights I associated with Shaping mana. Much to my surprise, three thumbnail-sized stones sat along its length too. They didn’t give off any light but hummed with energy.

  “Are those unattuned cores?” I asked.

  “Cores have the ability to absorb ambient mana and convert it to match the residing attunement. These are scripted for storage.” Ozman poked the bar between us and ran a finger along one of the stones and then down a set of runes. The crystal fragment’s color darkened significantly. Then the old scrimshaw touched the floor and touched a fresh set of runes. A stone pole extended from the stone, creating an exact replica of the bar. It featured the same scratches and signs of corrosion, matching it in every field but color and composition. “You use the stones to copy an item, and then recreate a replica of it using stone or wood.”

  A shiver ran down my spine when Ozman passed the device to me. “This is amazing,” I whispered, casting Analyze.

  Bone Wand of Shaping

  A scrimshaw has designed the wand to channel Shaping-attuned mana with a stone and wood focus. To make the wielder’s life easier, the three hollow shards can store one shape each. The wand may then reproduce a replica with the exact dimensions as the original in whatever stone or wood is available.

  The more complicated the shape and bigger the item, the more mana it requires.

  “I’ve added runes of durability and hardness to the wand so it won’t break easily,” Ozman said. “As long as you don’t crack the crystal, it should last forever.”

  As a first order of business, I attacked the stone slab separating my cell from the one below. Turning it into a stone pole didn’t reduce its weight but dislodged it from the floor, and I managed to lower it gently to the ground without making too much noise. When I looked through the opening into the cell below, a pair of golden eyes peaked back at me.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I whispered.

  The shrike chirped back. She leapt off the ground, and the powerful flapping of tiny wings followed. Their help let her leap to the ceiling, and she clung to the hole, looking up at me. Doctor Whoo tried to scramble through when I pet her, but I kept her at bay.

  “You stay down there,” I told her. “I’ll take you for a walk before everyone starts waking up.”

  Ozman flashed me a sly smile. “You’ve been up to no good, haven’t you?” He chuckled. “Well, I’ve made your life several times easier. We won’t have to take any risks with an inaccurate copy of the shaman’s totem. Use the wand to copy the shape, and then we can make a stone replica for me to use as a model. The only challenge will be copying the mana signatures.”

  “I’ve seen it enough times now to memorize the rough distribution. Getting the precise pattern will be a challenge though.”

  “Well, your opponent is a Champion, Perry,” Ozman said. “You can’t take any risks with him. If required, find parchment and draw out the pattern for me. I can use runes to make the bone pieces absorb surrounding mana and pretend like they’re the same. I don’t know how the shaman’s totem works, but it compresses the mana it stores. That way it doesn’t stand out to anyone with Mana Sense.”

  “I understand. It won’t be easy though.”

  “Grog’s tribe is one of the largest goblin gatherings on the disk. Overthrowing its shaman will be anything but easy. Your plans are ambitious and downright insane. That’s putting it nicely. The fewer things you leave to chance, the better.”

  I leaned closer to the bars and reduced my volume. “I’m planning on challenging him to duel. As the weaker party, I can have two assistants in combat—”

  “Of course!” Ozman exclaimed. Then ducked his head and glanced back and forth. “Got a bit loud there.” He chuckled. “You’ll need to steal my tools and weapons from Gor’s storage though. I might as well be useless without them.”

  “Brilliant! Let’s get a replica of his totem sorted first. Then we can look into sneaking out your effects. I’m sure Hruk can assist us with that.”

  “Can we trust him?”

  I nodded. “He doesn’t just hate the shaman but the tribe as a whole.” I showed him the bracer and the Mage Hand. “These are his creations, and he volunteered to help too. I’d rather have you over him though.”

  “And that miniature shrike?”

  “She’s only satchel-sized for now. When battle comes, she’ll be big enough to keep Kraine on his toes.”

  After Doctor Whoo dropped down to the floor below, I used the wand to return the stones to their original shapes. It was a good thing Ozman had planned to cover all bases. It fit perfectly into my plans of sneakiness and espionage. Once I had managed my mischief, the wand would let me erase any signs of me disturbing my current locale.

  Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and they sounded surer than Gor’s gait. Both Ozman and I scrambled to fix our cells. He shoved all his tools, leftover bones, and other bits into the hole in his cell floor and closed it up. It was easier for me, since I only had to straighten my cell. Then Gurk entered the light and came to a stop outside my cell.

  “Time to get back to work, Perry,” he said.

  “What are we going to do tonight, Brain?” I asked, nudging Gurk as we walked through the dungeons.

  “Brain?” He raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. “Did you hit your head while escaping the shrike? You do know that’s not my name, right? Or is this one of your weird nonsensical phrases again?”

  “Never mind.” I laughed. “It’s old hillfolk humor. It was foolish of me to think you’d get it.”

  “No. Go on. Explain the joke.”

  “That takes all the fun out of it, Gurk. I just want to know what you and the great shaman Kraine have planned for me today. Do I head back to the animal pens, or do you have something else planned for me?”

  Gurk paused and looked me up and down. “You’re awfully chipper given everything going on.” For a moment I worried he suspected me of something untoward—or figured out that my stories were no more than bullshit. Then Gurk shook his head and his shoulders relaxed. “I’m afraid only spirit callers and soldiers will work in the animal pens until we find the shrike or have definite evidence of her leaving the city.”

  “I wish I could’ve done more,” I told the goblin, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I really do. You don’t know how awful I feel about Curry dying.”

  “Curry?”

  “The kid that saved my life,” I answered. “He used to torment me, so I always thought I’d love to see him in a curry pot—it’s a saucy dish with lots of spices, and we halflings love it with goat. He saved me in the end though.”

  “That’s the bit that doesn’t add up, Perry,” Gurk said. “Why would a Blacknail mountain goat stand up for you? Doesn’t your music just sedate them?”

  I leaned close to Gurk and waved him closer. He looked at me quizzically, furrowing his brows. Then he complied. “You guys should Analyze your captured beasts more often. Curry was an anomalous specimen, and I tamed him. If the shrike didn’t tear up the poor guy, I’d have an angsty goat with magic resistance now.”

  “You tamed one of our beasts?” Gurk hissed. “That’s a titanic breach of trust you know.” His green face softened as he looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry though. We goblins have never been successful tamers, but I’ve read how close the bond between a tamed beast and its master can get. Losing Curry must’ve hurt.”

  “You have no idea,” I replied, smiling softly.

  “At least he went down valiantly protecting his master. That’s how every warg wants to go, protecting its rider. Perhaps Curry enjoyed a similar death.”

  “So, if you don’t want me in the animal pens, where would you like me?”

  “The kitchens,” Gurk answered. “After the Wyrm’s Feast we needed more soldiers and several of Cook’s workers joined. It was fine at first, since all the hunting and raiding parties are in the field, training the newbies, but now Moreg wants a feast.” He sighed. “She has her twenty-second name day coming up, and apparently that’s a significant year for folk wherever Master Kraine grew up. As a result, Cook is shorthanded and needs your help.”

  “That sounds comparatively less stressful than tending to goats,” I said, flashing him a wide smile. “To be fair, Curry was the one who made my job near impossible. Without him around, I don’t think it’ll be as bad.”

  “I appreciate your commitment to your responsibilities, Perry, but I made this decision for my peace of mind. If you had combat spells or masteries, I’d risk it, but you don’t. The kitchens are closed off from the exterior. Cook and his assistants are former combatants too. They can keep you safe if the shrikes do find you.”

  “I appreciate the concern, Gurk.” I shook his hands as he dropped me off at the kitchens. Gurk would never turn on his master. However, if I won him over, perhaps he’d take a neutral stance like Grog and overlook my underhanded ways. If he agreed to shirk his responsibilities and hang out with me, perhaps I’d get up close and personal with Kraine. Copying his totem’s shape into the bone wand’s storage wouldn’t be as difficult then.

  The kitchens were much busier than during my visit two days prior. Giant mounds of mushrooms, root vegetables, and leafy greens sat in the vegetable section. Two workers stood in a far corner, just peeling spuds and arguing. Meanwhile, Cook’s hands meticulously made their way through a giant tub of rabbits.

  “What do you need, Cook?” I asked, approaching the rotund goblin.

  He paused, looking me up and down. “Good. You’re clean.” He glanced around the kitchens hesitantly, looking more concerned than before the Wyrm’s Feast dinner. “How are you with fish?”

  “Pretty great, I’d like to think,” I answered. “My aunt’s tavern sat next to a river. The fishermen brought us their catch, and I’d be the one who turned them into whatever the patrons wanted.”

  “Great!” Cook exclaimed. He nodded at the giant tubs next to the meat section. Rough chunks of ice sat piled high in them with types of fish I had never encountered before. “I’d advise you change into some of our kitchen spares before you bone and fillet all of them. Moreg wants fish during the feast, and I don’t know what to make for her. Both of my fish guys left me. One ran off to join Moreg’s harem. The other got swept up in the recruitment drive and is off somewhere getting himself killed.” Cook sighed, leaning close. “I know in the past I didn’t treat you as well as I should’ve. You were just another one of Kraine’s sacrifices in my eyes, but you’ve proven your worth. The fish is an enormous responsibility, and I can’t afford any mistakes. Are you willing to take on this responsibility?”

  I nodded. “Of course, Cook. This is what I did for a living before the bard’s life called to me. You’re in a bind, and I’m happy to help a fellow chef out.”

  “Thank you.” He sighed. “If you have any ideas of how to prepare them as well, I’d be grateful.”

  My brows furrowed as I thought of how I could make the most of the opportunity. Doing a good job of the fish would certainly win me clout. If Moreg and Lefa were on the fish-and-healthy-eating-hype train, it meant other young and influential goblins would follow them. Getting close and personal wouldn’t just help me make friends in high places, but I’d probably get the opportunity to bump into Kraine too. The sooner Ozman got a replica of the ornament, the better.

  “Why don’t I put on a show?” I asked.

  “What do you mean? I’ve heard good things about your music, Perry, but I don’t know how that’ll help win over fish-crazed young ones.” Cook shook his head. “We’re meat-eating folk. Our tribe left behind underwater lakes and rivers long ago. This regression doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “I mean live cooking. If we move the party to a hall with a firepit, I can set up the cast iron pan and griddles and then cook the fish in front of everyone.” Despite the cold, I reached into the ice and fished out a river-bass-like specimen. “Look at the skin and plumpness on this one. All it needs is a quick sear, salt, and pepper. Each fillet won’t take over three to four minutes. When these powerful young goblins see me prepare them with minimal oil, they’ll be ecstatic. You can have the credit, and I can make a few new friends.”

  “That’s not half bad an idea.” Cook grinned. “If they don’t like it—”

  “You can blame it on me. Grog has gotten involved in the terms of my imprisonment. I doubt he’ll let Kraine—the shaman change them.”

  Cook nodded and returned to his butchery. I changed into the stinky spare clothes and rushed to set up a fish butchery section for myself and got to work. I hadn’t worked in the fish-prep section in a long time, but my Dexterity helped my new body recover the skill. My performance for the show would need to be immaculate. I’d never get a better opportunity to raise Sleight of Hand and get the last pieces of the puzzle.

  Afterward, the only hurdle in our path would be swapping Kraine’s totem with the original. However, I planned on worrying about it once we got there. Until then, preparing for the live cooking took priority.

  thirty-three

  Doctor Whoo was especially pleased when I brought fish heads for her from the kitchens. She wasn’t satisfied just eating it in her cell, unfortunately. Instead, she caught the dropped food in her beak and climbed through the floor. Much to my relief, she devoured it whole and didn’t make a mess. To err on the side of caution, I dropped the rest through the hole.

  Unfortunately, Doctor Whoo didn’t follow the fish. Instead, she pounced on me and scrambled up my back. Grumbles spread through the dungeons as she chirped and squawked. If not for the high-pitched, bird-like sounds, someone would recognize the calls and I’d end up screwed.

  “Someone kill that bird!” a gruff voice on the far end yelled. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten roast pheasant.”

  “Aye. Don’t let the goblins touch ‘em!” Another called. “These greenies ruin whatever meat they touch with those dirty little hands.”

  “She’s rested long enough,” Ozman said, keeping his voice low. “After days of sleeping and eating, she wants to socialize. It’s common for fledglings like her.”

  “I need to get back to the kitchens in an hour and then work in Grog’s hall,” I said. “Taking her along will be a death sentence for the both of us. It would be amazing to take her with me. I’d feel much safer with some back-up out there, but look at her. She’s impossible to control.”