Darnak glanced down at his map once more. “Ah, hell.” So saying, he grabbed the map, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the corner. “Getting cramps in my fingers anyway.”

“Is that all you have to offer me?” Barius threw up his arms. “One hundred and thirty-two years of age, Silas Earthmaker at your side, and all you can do is complain of cramped fingers.”

He whirled on Ryslind. “As for you, my brother, what are we to make of your vaunted powers? Where is your otherworldly wisdom, great one? I was wrong to doubt you. How great your art must be, that it led us back to the very spot from which we left.”

“What if he’s right?” Jig asked. The room felt much colder to him. Colder and darker. “What if the Necromancer is here?”

“Ridiculous.” Barius waved one hand. “He must be hidden away, down some tunnel we neglected to explore. Only after defeating the minions do we face the master. Else what point to having minions at all?”

Jig frowned. That was a good question. Maybe this was a good time to ask for help again. Shadowstar, am I right? Why would the Necromancer play with us like that? He blinked as a thought occurred to him.

“Maybe . . .” It sounded ridiculous now that he started to say it out loud. Too late, though. Everyone waited for him to finish.

“Well the Necromancer isn’t a very nice person, right?” Barius rolled his eyes, and Jig hurried to finish. “Maybe he’s doing this just to be mean. Teasing us, like animals, before he kills us. He probably doesn’t get much company here, you know. He probably gets lonely.”

“A master of the dark arts lonely?” Ryslind raised both eyebrows.

Is that the answer? But if so, that would mean the Necromancer was here, watching us even as we argue. He probably laughed when we found ourselves back here, like it was the greatest joke in the world. But where is he watching from?

Jig’s gut tightened, and sweat ran down his back as he looked around. The room was empty, as before. Nothing but the water. No place to hide. Even with magic, it would be difficult to hide in here, with the way the light bounced off the marble panels, illuminating every corner of the room.

The panels. Jig stared. Like the panels in the hall that disappeared when those creatures had attacked.

Riana sat by one wall, gnawing on her bread and looking bored. Ryslind looked like he was trying to use his art to find the Necromancer again, but Barius kept interrupting. Darnak had flattened his map and begun again to retrace their path. Aside from a few chuckles and Ryslind’s raised brows, they thought Jig’s idea was a waste of time. What could a goblin know? But he was right. He knew it.

“He’s behind the panels.”