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Chapters (26)
  1. Cover
  2. THE SHARING KNIFE
  3. Map
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. About the Author
  24. ALSO BY LOIS MCMASTER BUJOLD
  25. Credits
  26. About the Publisher

“Yes, but the hole wasn’t right for a mine, either,” put in the red-haired man, Sassa. He’d turned out to be a brother-in-law of the house, present that day to help with some log-hauling. He seemed less deeply shaken than the rest, possibly because his wife and baby had been safely back in Glassforge and had missed the horrific misadventure altogether. “They didn’t have enough tools, for one thing, till those mud-men brought in the ones they stole from here. They had folks digging with their hands and hauling dirt in bags made out of their clothes. It was an awful mess.”

“Would be, at first, till the bogle caught someone with the know-how to do it right,” said Dag. “Later, when it’s safe again, you folks should get some real miners to come in and explore the site. There must be something of value under there; the malice would not have been mistaken about that. This part of the country, I’d guess an iron or coal seam, maybe with a forge planned to follow, but it might be anything.”

“I’d wondered if they were digging up another bogle,” said Sassa. “They’re supposed to come out of the ground, they say.”

Dag’s brows twitched up, and he eyed the man with new appraisal. “Interesting idea. When two bogles chance to emerge nearby, which happily doesn’t occur too often, they usually attack each other first thing.”

“That would save you Lakewalkers some trouble, wouldn’t it?”

“No. Unfortunately. Because the winning bogle ends up stronger. Easier to take them down piecemeal.”

Fawn tried to imagine something stronger and more frightening than the creature she had faced yesterday. When you were already as terrified as your body could bear, what difference could it make if something was even worse? She wondered if that explained anything about Dag.

Movement at the end of the lane caught her eye. Another plow horse came out of the woods and trotted ponderously up to the farmyard, a middle-aged woman riding with the lanky boy up behind. They paused on the other side of the well, the woman staring down hard at something, then came up to join the others.