Slowly he found himself turned around to face the creature. When he saw what held him, he stopped struggling and concentrated on looking small and harmless. For now he knew what had killed the ogres.

The thing stood a head shorter than an ogre, but Jig would have happily faced all three ogres by himself rather than fight this beast. Dark bronze scales the size of large coins covered most of its body, with lighter scales along the belly and chest. Its legs were jointed like an animal’s, so it stood with its thighs hinged up close to the stomach. A long tail helped it balance. As Jig watched, the tail twitched back and forth, causing the barbs at the end to smash against the wall. The creature didn’t seem to feel any pain from the impact.

The head was a miniature version of the dragon’s that Jig had seen coming out of the water, and he would have been happier had he never gotten the chance to examine it so closely. Curved white teeth lined its long, flat jaws. The eyes were golden, with slitted pupils. Twin horns spiraled back from behind its small tufted ears.

Jig glanced at the nostrils, watching them widen and close as the thing breathed. Could it breathe fire? he wondered. Then he banished that thought, afraid one of the gods might hear him and decide to satisfy his curiosity.

Something tickled his back. Jig craned his head and saw Smudge hastening toward his belt pouch. Before, Smudge had fought like a cornered tunnel cat to avoid the pouch. Faced with this thing that had snagged Jig so easily, the fire-spider had obviously decided that maybe the pouch wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“Don’t struggle, little one,” the dragon-thing said. The voice sounded male, though Jig saw no evidence either way on its naked body. But dragons were probably built differently than goblins, and Jig wasn’t about to ask. “Once I have your friend, we’ll be on our way back to Straum.”

His breath smelled like rotting meat. Jig wondered what he ate, and again decided he was better off not knowing.

Riana’s footsteps came closer, then faltered as she fell yet again. Jig could hear her saying, “. . . going to kill you, Jig. Leave me behind, will you? I’ll take a strip of your skin for every one of these bruises. You owe me a finger anyway.”

He almost wished she’d have the chance to take her revenge. Without thinking, he cupped his hands to his mouth and screamed, “Riana, run!”

One golden eye swiveled at Jig, and he wisely shut his mouth. “Very well,” the thing said. “The hard way.”