That reminded him of Golaka. Ryslind’s spell had faded, and even as Jig watched, the huge chef slipped free from the magic’s grip and fell to the ground.

Jig grabbed Riana’s wrist. “Time to go,” he said. Hopefully the goblins wouldn’t follow, and he doubted Barius would bother to return now that he had the rod. Not for a few worthless goblins, at least.

So why am I going toward him? The answer came almost immediately. Because I’m an idiot.

Jig collided with Darnak. The impact bought a huff of breath from the dwarf, and sent Jig crashing into the wall.

“I think I convinced them to let us go,” Jig said once he had recovered.

“Did you, now?” Darnak’s thick brows lifted. “You know, it happens that I speak a smattering of Goblin myself. I couldn’t make out everything, but I picked up a few words here and there.”

Jig swallowed, but his mouth had gone dry. He had forgotten that detail.

“Spineless lackey, was it?” His fingers drummed the shaft of his club. “One of these days, I’ll repay you for that. We dwarves hold a grudge for a long time, you know.”

Fortunately, the two humans hadn’t heard any of it. Barius stood to one side, clasping the rod to his chest as if it were a long-lost lover, while Ryslind caressed it with his eyes. It was a little disturbing to watch, truth be told. Jig cleared his throat.

“You have the rod. Shouldn’t you be on your way? Back to the castle and the king and all that?” Please, he added silently.

Barius nodded slowly, but before he could speak, Ryslind’s voice cracked like thunder. “No! We must free Straum from his prison.”

“You dare to give me commands, brother?” Barius asked softly.

Jig pressed his back to the wall. He had hoped they would simply leave, but if they decided to kill one another, that would work too.

Sadly, things weren’t going to be that simple. Ryslind’s eyes flashed, but when he spoke again, he sounded calm and reasonable. “Think of the reward, brother. Five thousand years of gold and plunder. Straum will have no need of such things once he is free. You could have your pick of his hoard. Enough wealth to buy a kingdom of your own.”

Barius’s lips twitched into an involuntary grin as Ryslind went on. By the end, he was practically drooling. “A good point, brother. But why not use the rod to create whatever treasure I need?”

“The rod can only affect what already exists. Rock can be shifted, animals changed to other forms. You could turn a gold crown into a pile of coins, but you couldn’t make a diamond out of nothing.” Ryslind clasped his hands together. “Imagine our brothers’ reactions when you return with wealth enough to make them look like paupers on the street.”