He didn’t bother to ask what an aphrodisiac was. “Riana, are deer stupid?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “But I’ve never lived in the woods. Why?”

Jig frowned as he stared at the tree. “The deer couldn’t have heard us at first. Otherwise, if they’re as timid as you say, it would have fled. But when I fell, he came toward us. Which means something else must have scared it even more.”

Riana’s face went still. “You’re right.”

From behind them, a dry voice said, “Indeed you are.”

CHAPTER 13 - Pointing Fingers

CHAPTER 13

Pointing Fingers

Jig couldn’t flee. He wanted to, but several things kept him rooted in place. He could no longer hear the others back at camp, and since he had completely lost his bearings during the confusion with the deer, any attempt to run would probably lead him deeper into the woods. Also, he knew that voice.

Recognition strengthened his desire to escape, while at the same time making him realize that trying to do so would be pointless. No matter how quickly he moved, Ryslind’s magic could strike him down. To run would only provide an easier shot at Jig’s unguarded back.

“Ryslind?” he said, searching for the wizard’s hiding spot.

“Did I startle you, little ones?” Ryslind asked as he stepped out from behind a large tree.

His bonds were gone, as was his bow. To anyone who hadn’t seen the charred corpses left by Ryslind’s magic, he looked like a harmless man with odd taste in tattoos. Jig didn’t move. He still remembered Ryslind’s threats, and whereas Barius’s temper always warned Jig when to expect an attack, Ryslind would boil you in your skin without ever losing that thin smirk. Now was a time to remain very polite and nonthreatening.

“How did you escape?” Riana asked.

Ryslind smiled. “My brother ordered my hands and feet tied again after you left. I lay there in silence until their attention wandered.” He folded his arms behind his back and began to pace. “Barius and Darnak are naïve. They know nothing of true magic or those who use it, so they believed I was helpless.”

Ryslind reached into his robes and flourished a short knife. “All that work to prevent me from spellcasting, and they never searched for weapons.”

The single-edged blade curved forward like a sickle, and the handle was black bone. Too short for combat, Jig decided. For humans, at least. It was still a far cry better than the kitchen knife Jig had carried at the beginning of this escapade.

Whatever Ryslind used it for, aside from cutting ropes, Jig didn’t want to know. There was a sinister aura about it that made him hope Ryslind wouldn’t need goblin parts for any of his spells.

“You killed them?” Riana’s gaze didn’t leave the knife.