“Perhaps he does. But a world of difference exists between an elf, even one of her status, and a goblin.” Barius glanced at Riana, who listened to the conversation as intently as Jig. “You should be watching for other monsters, girl.”

Other monsters. That they thought of Jig as a monster cheered him up a little. Monster was a step up from “nuisance,” which was how most adventurers categorized Jig’s kind.

“To invite a goblin to join us is to invite treachery, cowardice, and deceit into our beds,” Barius pronounced. “What help he could provide does not justify the risk.”

“Ha. As if you’ve ever gotten anyone into your bed without flashing around your gold and your title.”

Jig tried to bite back a laugh and wound up choking instead. Barius whirled while Jig coughed and fought for breath. The human’s pale lips thinned, but then he shrugged and turned back to the dwarf. He doesn’t know I understand their language, Jig realized, thankful for the days when the older goblins would sit around and test the younger ones’ use of Human, the dominant language of the surface-dwellers. Each misspoken word earned a kick to the behind.

“Knowing what your enemy says could keep you alive,” one goblin had said as Jig lay sprawled on the floor. With a hard laugh, he added, “But it probably won’t.”

More to protect his bruised body than to gain an advantage over his future enemies, Jig had learned quickly.

Before Prince Barius could resume his argument, Darnak held up a meaty hand and said, “I’d just as soon send him to hell, Your Majesty, as I would a snake who slipped into the palace. But even a snake has its uses. You’ve always been quick to throw things away without thinking. This is no game, and we could get killed down here faster than you can piss yourself.”

“Granted,” Barius said, sounding like he wanted to hit something. “But perhaps you’ve not heard your own words? That is precisely the reason I feel we should eliminate the goblin.”

“Aye. Kill the snake if you want, but then tell me how you plan to find its hole?”

Barius started to answer, then stopped himself as the dwarf’s words sank in.

“That’s right,” Darnak said. “Damn me if I’m not starting to chip through that granite skull of yours. Who knows how many of them are hiding up these tunnels? For myself, I’d rather know a bit more about what we’re walking into. Otherwise you’re likely to find yourself stepping in something unpleasant.”

Jig kept his face still as they glanced at him. They wanted to use him as . . . what? A guide? If so, they would likely be disappointed.

He knew some of the tunnels, of course. Every goblin did. Every goblin who survived past their twelfth year, that was.