“You have not yet completed your map of this room, friend dwarf?” He waved at the fountain. “Such a creation deserves to be noted, would you not agree?”

“Aye.” He looked torn. “But I’ve not yet told the goblin of the godless years.”

The goblin had already taken the opportunity to scoot away, and now hid on the other side of the fountain. He wondered why Barius hadn’t intervened an hour ago. Probably this was one more way to punish me. If so, Jig hoped the prince would go back to hitting him next time. Still, he felt a strange sense of gratitude to Barius for having rescued him at all.

He remained hidden until Darnak finished his map. They moved on, again following Ryslind as he used his magic to track the Necromancer. While they walked, Jig pondered a new problem. How, precisely, did one go about worshiping a god? Maybe he would need a necklace like Darnak’s. Something with the starburst and lightning of Tymalous Shadowstar instead of Earthmaker’s hammer. But what else?

In his tale, Darnak had mentioned mortals who made sacrifices to the gods in exchange for divine help. Jig tried to remember the details. There had been something about giving up one’s firstborn son, and another who killed “lambs,” whatever they were. Jig had no son, no lamb, and he wasn’t about to try to sacrifice one of the adventurers. The best he could do was Smudge, and the little fire-spider wouldn’t make much of a sacrifice. Not that Jig would have given him up. Except for right after Smudge had burned off Jig’s hair, maybe.

That left prayers. What did you say when you prayed? How did you strike up a chat with a god? Jig wasn’t even very good at starting a conversation with other goblins. Did you have to say the words out loud, or would the god hear you in your head?

He decided that gods could hear your thoughts. If he had to speak the words, he’d be too embarrassed to try. He could already hear Barius’s reaction. “What god would tolerate a follower of your ilk?” he would say. And he might be right. To be honest, Jig didn’t expect much. Goblins and gods were like . . . well, like goblins and every other race. There wasn’t much in the way of mingling.

Still it couldn’t hurt. All things considered, it would be difficult for Jig’s situation to be any worse. So he began to talk in his mind as they crept through the corridors.

Tymalous Shadowstar? What a clunky name. He wondered if he could get away with calling a god “Tym.” Probably not. My name is Jig. Can you hear me?

He paused, but there was no answer. Then again, Darnak’s conversations with Earthmaker seemed pretty one-sided as well, so it might not mean anything.