The outcropping was not a large one, rising less than a quarter as high as the towering pines around it, but it made an ideal resting place. Not only did it catch the warm rays of the morning sun, it stood just high enough so that Morten could peer over the top to inspect the group's back trail-as he had been doing all morning, until Brianna awakened and decided to heal his throat wound.

A broad expanse of lodgepole pines surrounded the crag, their thin bare trunks as straight as horse lances. Though the boles were not densely packed, their sheer number created the impression of a gray, foglike wall through which any manner of evil spirit might walk at any moment.

"Wait here," Tavis whispered. "I'll be back soon."

As the scout moved to enter the depths of the gray forest. Morten's large hand clasped his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Morten asked. All that remained of the wound on his neck was an ugly red scar resembling a huge boil. This is no time to go wandering."

"Don't you recognize those steps?" Tavis whispered back. "It's Basil."

"How can you be certain?" Brianna demanded. Even as she asked the question, the verbeeg's distant footfalls faded away, and there was no other sound in the forest except the wind slipping through the pine boughs. "I can hardly hear them."

"He's moved onto softer ground," Tavis explained. "But I'm certain it was Basil. I recognized his gait."

Brianna and Morten exchanged doubtful looks.

"Basil's done as much to rescue you as anyone," Tavis reminded her.

The princess's expression became fretful. "That's not the issue," she said, still speaking softly. "It's whether you really heard him."

"You think I'm lying?" Tavis gasped.

"No, of course not!" Brianna's reply was quick and emphatic, but no sooner had she uttered it than she gave the scout a sideways glance and added, "Not this time, anyway."

"Not ever! I've always been truthful," Tavis insisted. "I had nothing to do with the theft of Earl Dobbin's books!"

"Then why did the princess find them in your barn?" whispered the lord mayor, opening his eyes to join the conversation. "And why are you now willing to risk you life-indeed, all of our lives-to go off searching for the verbeeg who took them?"

Brianna quickly interposed herself between the scout and Earl Dobbin. "We don't need to discuss your books now." She scowled at the lord mayor, then added, "At the moment, I don't care if Tavis and his verbeeg took your ancestral jewels. The important thing is to return to my father's castle, and Tavis Burdun is the only person who can get us there alive."

The words left Tavis with a hollow, anguished feeling in the pit of his stomach. It seemed clear the princess had placed her trust in him only because she had no other choice-and she had said nothing at all about believing his words. If he could not persuade her of his innocence in the theft of Earl Dobbin's books, how could he convince her that her own father had betrayed her to the ogres?

The scout sighed at his quandary, then asked, "Princess, if you don't think I'm lying, why the doubts about what I heard?"

"Because the shaman's a mimic," she said. "That's how he lured me into his trap the first time."

"Thanks for the advice." Tavis said. He did not bother to question whether the shaman had survived the battle on the ice fall. That the ogres had regrouped was evidence of that, for the brutes were a notoriously shiftless and disorderly race that would not have mounted such a sizable pursuit without a strong leader. "I'll be careful."

"You're still going?" Morten asked.

Tavis nodded. "Even a mimic can't duplicate what he hasn't heard-at least not precisely," the scout explained. "And if Goboka has heard Basil's feet slapping against bedrock, there's a good chance Basil's still alive. Whether those footfalls were real or not, I have to take a look."

"I'm afraid it's too late for looking," said Earl Dobbin. The lord mayor's gaze was fixed on the forest, and he was scrambling to his feet. "We have a-"

The drone of a flying arrow cut the lord mayor off. A black shaft suddenly appeared in his thigh, and he cried out in pain.

Already nocking an arrow, Tavis spun in the direction from which the shaft had come. He did not see any ogre warriors, of course, but noticed a few trembling stalks in a huckleberry thicket.

The scout drew his bowstring back. A pair of huckleberry leaves suddenly fluttered to the ground, and a black dot appeared outside the bush: an ogre's arrow coming dead on. Tavis released his own shaft then twisted away, at the same time swinging Bear Driller vertically through the air.

With a sharp clack, the bow struck the shank of the ogre arrow. A tiny, stinging jolt ran through the scout's hands, and he saw a curving black streak as his foe's missile sailed away to shatter against the basalt crag.

Tavis's own arrow penetrated the thicket with a sound like tearing cloth. There was a thud and a strangled gasp, then a hush fell over the forest. The scout nocked another arrow, already searching for his next target.

Among the lodgepoles, nothing else moved. Keeping his eyes on the forest, Tavis squatted beside Earl Dobbin, who had fallen to the ground. "How many were there?"

The question went unanswered, for the ogre's poison had already done its work and put the lord mayor fast asleep. Brianna pulled her borrowed dagger and set to work digging the arrow from the earl's leg.

"We'll leave when you finish there," the scout said.

Tavis stepped over to Avner, who had not stirred during the ogre's attack. If the youth felt any guilt for the disgrace he had brought upon his guardian-or the deaths he had caused by failing to warn Morten about the ogre ambush-it did not show. He was still sleeping, his expression as innocent as that of a newborn babe.

"Wake up." The scout kicked the sole of the boy's boot harder than necessary. "Time to go!"

Eyes half open, Avner leaped to his feet "Got you covered!" he mumbled. The youth was already pulling his sling from beneath his cloak. "Where they at?"

"Come and gone, boy," chuckled Morten. The bodyguard passed a waterskin to the youth. "Wash the sleep from your eyes. We're going to need you alert."

Tavis turned back to Brianna. She had bandaged Earl Dobbin's wound and was about to cast a healing spell.

"Let him sleep for a while," Tavis suggested. "I doubt the lord mayor suffers pain quietly, and groans will attract ogres."

Brianna considered his advice, then hefted the lord mayor over her shoulder. Tavis slipped past her and with an arrow still nocked, started off at a silent trot. He did not need to look to know the princess was following a dozen paces behind, for he could hear a muffled cadence of dry pine needles crackling beneath her soft steps. Morten's steps were louder, a basal reverberation that Tavis sensed more than heard. Avner was the most difficult to keep track of. Despite having to run to keep pace with his large companions, the boy moved so silently that, if Brianna's pace had not faltered now and then as she tried to avoid his heels, Tavis could not have been certain the young thief was behind him.

A short time later, the scout stopped so the others could catch up to him. He studied their back trail for a few moments, then pointed southward. "Keep going in that direction until I return," he whispered. I won't be long."

"You still mean to go after Basil?" asked Morten. The bodyguard cast a nervous glance into the forest. That's foolhardy. The woods are swarming with ogres. They could kill you, and where would that leave us? Only you know the way."

"The ogres won't kill me, but even if they do, you don't need me to find your route," Tavis said. "There's only one way to go. Down the valley."

"But it's too obvious," Brianna objected, laying Earl Dobbin's unconscious form on the ground. "The ogres will block that direction. We have to go another way."