Only Riana heard. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks went pale. “Are you sure?”

Before he could answer, a booming laugh came from the walls. Ryslind raised his hands, fingers twisted to hurl a spell, but he could find no target. Barius’s sword hissed free, and Darnak grabbed his club. From Jig’s shoulder came the smell of singed leather as Smudge branded eight dots onto his shoulder pad.

“Very good, little goblin.” The voice came from every part of the room at once. Not even Jig’s ears could pinpoint the speaker.

“Show yourself, Necromancer,” Barius said calmly. “Face us with honor and die like a man.”

Even Darnak sighed at that. Jig didn’t know a lot about adventuring or quests, but even he knew that “honor” wasn’t a word that went with “necromancy.” But if Barius insisted on playing the noble hero, Jig had no complaints. Barius’s posturing made him the center of attention, as he no doubt intended. It also meant that he, not Jig, was the obvious target.

“You’ve all done very well,” the voice went on. “I thought my warriors would finish you off in the hallway. But your wizard had more power than I expected. He’s a fool, but a powerful one.”

Ryslind’s eyes burned a deeper red at that; he said nothing.

“Come, wizard. Find me if you can. I’m here, right beyond your grasp. Waiting and laughing.”

“Can you find this villain?” Barius demanded. At Ryslind’s angry nod, he snapped, “Why then do you delay?”

No, that’s what he wants! Jig didn’t know where the thought came from, and it was too late anyway. Ryslind’s fingers straightened. He turned toward one of the panels, and fire shot from his hands.

Jig cringed and turned away as orange light brightened the room. Black smoke stung his nose, and even from behind the pillar he felt the heat against his skin. How Ryslind could touch that fire, hold it in his fingers, and control it was beyond Jig.

The flames stopped. Ryslind’s fingers curved and straightened again, and this time water shot forth, freezing instantly when it touched the wall. Flakes of snow fell from the stream as he shot more water at the icy wall.

Smudge hid behind Jig’s neck, making Jig wish he had something more substantial to hide behind. He had seen evidence of Ryslind’s power before, but never in such a raw display. Those two spells alone would wipe out a goblin patrol before they could even grab weapons.

A thick layer of white ice covered the marble panel. Ryslind sent a second line of fire into its center. As soon as the flames touched the marble, a loud crack shot through the room. The panel fell to the floor in a dozen triangular pieces that shattered upon impact. Behind the steam and smoke, one of the dead warriors drew a sword and stepped forward.