When the Hikeda’ya reached the top of the rise Jarnulf pointed to a place where the horses could be tethered out of the wind and camp could be made. After Makho had given permission, Jarnulf tied up his own horse and began to build a fire in a long crevice of the rock face of their makeshift stable.

“We cannot show fire here, fool,” Makho said when he saw. “We are no longer on the Queen’s land.”

“Trust me, there is no one within miles.” Jarnulf kept working as he spoke, knowing that if he made eye contact he would be drawn into another confrontation. “Except the diggers, of course, but they hate flame. Which, I remind you, is why you are alive to complain at this moment. Feel free to thank me—I used the last of my pot of Perdruinese Fire saving you. It may be a year before I can get to a trading outpost and buy more.”

“What of giants?” demanded Kemme. “Are we safe from them as well?”

“I doubt there are any about that are larger than your friend.” He nodded toward Goh Gam Gar, who was digging himself a hole in the snow a short distance from the mouth of the crevice. Each of the giant’s hands was nearly the size of a battle shield and he was making swift work of it. Jarnulf could not have missed the witchwood yoke around the giant’s neck, a much bigger slave collar than the one he had once worn. It was clear the monster was being restrained, most likely by the red crystal Makho had been waving, and that was another interesting thing to consider.

“We Hikeda’ya are not like you sun-craving mortals,” Makho said. “We do not hide during the dark hours. We travel. We do what our queen bids us.”

“Which is? In truth, Chieftain Makho, it is hard to guide people who keep so many secrets.”

Makho only glared at him. The giant laughed, a deep rumble like someone pushing a piece of heavy furniture across a wooden floor.

“Well, it does not matter,” said Jarnulf. “You may well travel at night all that you wish—but not here. The goblins are fierce this spring, more lively than ever in my memory, and they attack everything that comes near. This whole valley is riddled with their tunnels, as you discovered, and there are other nests as large as the one you stumbled into. That is why I travel only along the rocks here, not down on the snow, where footfalls sound in those creatures’ ears like the beating of a drum.”

“Will you continue to guide us, then, stranger?” asked the one called Saomeji. “Or at least tell us where we can find safe passage across these plains that are so near our enemies’ lands?”

Like their Hikeda’ya masters, mortal slaves of Nakkiga learned early in life to fear the minions of Akhenabi’s order, so Jarnulf would never trust this golden-eyed Norn, no matter how mildly he spoke: it was as much as he could do simply to hide his hatred of them all. But that did not stop him wondering why the halfblood Singer alone seemed to want good relations with a mortal stranger. Was he merely more practical than the rest of the stubborn Hikeda’ya? “Finding a route—such things are not done so easily in these lands,” he answered at last. “I will lead you to a safer passage if I can, but I will have to know more to do so—where you are going, for instance. And I will do it for gold, of course, or some similarly useful reward.”

“I should have known,” said Makho. “A mortal can have no honor.”

“What does honor have to do with this?” Jarnulf let his voice rise, mimicking pride and anger. “I have tasks of my own to perform, a trust that was placed in me just as yours was placed in you. While I am helping your hand toward whatever goal you have, it will be harder—if not impossible—to do what my masters demand of me, namely hunting down escaped slaves and others the queen wishes to see returned to Nakkiga’s justice. And even if you are to feed me, I will still lose the bounties I might have had. That is the most of my living. Should I not be rewarded for that loss?” He put his hands on his hips, aping a stubborn merchant. “One silver drop for every day I lead you safely, to be paid when we part company.” In truth, he had no use for silver drops—he would never be able to spend them unless he risked death by returning to Nakkiga itself—but if he did not ask for payment it would be as much as to announce he had some other purpose in wanting to accompany this puzzling collection.

“We are on more important business for the queen than merely capturing a few escaped slaves!” the one called Kemme said, so enraged that a touch of color climbed into his cheeks, a weakness the Hikeda’ya rarely displayed. Kemme might be a formidable warrior but he was no diplomat. “And you demand to be paid?” He seemed unaware of Makho’s stony face beside him. “You have no idea of what we do, what honor the queen has given us! Instead of barking out insolent words, you should get on your miserable mortal knees in gratitude that we have left your misshapen head on your neck, because I can change that myself in an instant!” Kemme seemed ready to draw his blade, but this time Jarnulf did not have to engage in any dangerous demonstration, because in the moment of silence the chieftain Makho made a sound—just a small intake of air—and the soldier seemed to understand in an instant that he had said too much and too loudly. The almost invisible blush of fury drained from his cheek in the space of a heartbeat.

“Close your mouth and go attend to the horses, Sacrifice Kemme,” Makho said in the coldest, deadest voice Jarnulf had yet heard him use. “Now. And take the Blackbird with you.”

Kemme turned away from his master wearing a convincing mask of chastened obedience. He harshly ordered the female Sacrifice Nezeru to attend him, then walked off toward the horses, but Jarnulf guessed by a certain angle to his neck that Kemme’s now-hidden features had gone rigid with disapproval and perhaps even resentment. Jarnulf knew that the tall Sacrifice would happily murder him, but he also wondered whether there might be some way to start driving a wedge between the leader and his second-in-command.

The chieftain now fixed Jarnulf with a look that reminded him of the violent stillness of a hawk just before it flew. Then the chieftain’s face changed like the water beneath a swimmer abruptly turning dark and deep; another heartbeat and the expressionless mask was back in place. “Very well, Huntsman. What if I told you that we had a task far to the east—in the lands your people call Urmsheim? How would we reach it from here?”

Urmsheim! Jarnulf could not have guessed such a far-flung, largely empty place would have been their destination, and could not begin to guess why they wanted to visit that home of deadly beasts and deadlier storms. “That is a long distance away, through a fearful wilderness—yes, fearful even for the Hikeda’ya. Traveling there is not merely a question of directions, or of knowing what few roads lie beneath the snow, but of knowing how to avoid danger, which is everywhere there.” He did his best to pretend that he had just reached his decision. “Very well. Pay my price before I raise it, as I am tempted to do, since I gave it before I knew your destination. If you treat with me fairly, I will lead you where you wish.”

“Why should we need you to lead us the whole way?” the chieftain said, but this time the anger was gone from his voice. Now he was bargaining. It was one of the few things Hikeda’ya did that Jarnulf truly understood. “I know the direction—east, into the rising sun. You say to walk upon the high, rocky places. We can do that just as well without the company of a mortal.”

Pressing made no sense. “Very well,” he said. “I will leave you Queen’s Talons, then, and be on my way, back to my pursuit of Nakkiga’s fugitives. Remember, though, it is not only goblins you must avoid, but giants, witiko’ya, and yukinva as well, all plentiful in the eastern hills.”

This time Makho looked to Saomeji and Jarnulf felt sure he saw something he had not seen from the chieftain previously, a cold, almost angry amusement. “Very well, Huntsman,” said Makho. “You shall have what you ask, but not without limits. We shall let you choose the path for a few days before sealing the bargain, so that if you prove a foul guide we will not have been taken too far from our way. But know this—if you try to lead us astray, or in any way slow our progress, I will have Goh Gam Gar pull you to pieces and devour you while you still live. Understood?”