In the woods, she quickly spat the godsblood she had left in her mouth into her hand, holding it carefully to avoid spilling any, and then began her search for Gruff, but he was nowhere to be found. Once she was out of New Dawn’s earshot, she hissed, “Gruff! Gruff, ye ripe bastard, where are ye?”

“Ripe bastard? And here I was thinkin’ we were becomin’ bosom friends, or at least co-conspirators.” His voice was near, but she still couldn’t see him, at least not until he moved a large frond aside that was hiding him. “The benefits of being low to the ground,” he said with a grin. “Easy to hide.”

She joined him beneath the frond, though she had to stoop low while he stood upright. “Did you get it?” he asked once they were well hidden.

She uncovered her hand, releasing the golden glow of the small pool of half-spit, half-godsblood. “Nice work. Good thing, too, as I accidentally swallowed all of mine.”

“Ye lil weasel!”

“I tried my best, of course, but alas, my throat gobbled it right up.”

“I have half a mind to drink the rest o’ mine right now.”

“But you won’t, because then we’ll have nothin’ to use on the bait. No bait, no bloodsquirrels.”

Perfidy’s temper had spiked to ten, but she calmed herself using a technique her mother had taught her. It wasn’t taking deep breaths or counting backwards from ten, or anything so mundane as that. Instead, she pictured herself smacking the grin right off Gruff’s face. That made her feel much better. “Fine,” she said. “Do ye have sum acorns an’ such?”

“Course. You act like I don’t help at all.”

She imagined herself smacking him again, but also threw in the deep breathing and backwards counting for good measure. Then she got to work dipping the acorns he’d gathered into the godsblood. Each turned a beautiful shade of gold, the liquid clinging to them without dripping at all. “Now that I’ve done all the hard work,” Gruff said, “it’s your turn. I’ll supervise while you reset the traps.”

She was tempted to insist that he learn how to set the traps, too, so he could help with it next time, but then a better idea occurred to her. “That’s good. I’d rather work alone anyway. Will be much faster without yer clumsy hands gettin’ in the way.”

He smiled at the insult, leaned his head back on a clump of soft-looking moss, and closed his eyes. While he snored, she got to work, repeating what she’d done the previous day, making subtle improvements to some of the traps and baiting them with the godsblood-coated acorns.

She’d saved just enough of the godsblood to add one small finishing touch, before she kicked the dwarf out of his slumber. “It’s dun,” she said. “I’m headin’ back to camp. Ye comin’?”

His only response was to grunt and roll over, so she left him like that. “Suit yerself,” she said, trying to hold back her laughter.