Worse than the pain was the grinding sensation in his chest, like rocks scraping against one another. Sometimes he had to push with all of his strength, and then something would pop into place, and he felt a surge of magic seep through his skin to bind the bones together again. “Next time I’m going to stay dead.”

Next time, you should try to duck. You think it’s easy for me, trying to find all those bits of rib and put them back together?

Jig scowled and pushed another chunk of backbone into place. His toes had begun to tingle, which he took to be a good sign. He could even wiggle his feet again.

A heady rush of power distracted him from the pain. He was fixing himself! The same as Darnak had done. Jig the goblin was doing magic.

Concentrate, fang-face.

Jig snorted indignantly. But he paid more attention to the magic. Most of the bones were back in place, though he could still feel things shifting and moving inside his body. A bizarre sensation, really. He wondered if this was anything like being pregnant. Goblin women generally gave birth to anywhere from two to five babies at a time. And Jig could feel at least three distinct places where his guts were rearranging themselves.

True, but pregnancy lasts eight months for you goblins. And you don’t have to squeeze the kids out of your—

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Jig interrupted quickly.

At the center of the room, Barius had deepened the hole. Darkness hid the inside, so Jig couldn’t tell how high it extended. Presumably he would know when Barius broke through to the surface. Jig expected a dramatic beam of sunlight if nothing else. So far there was nothing but blackness.

Straum peered into the growing hole, his tail shivering with excitement. “Yes,” he growled. “So close. To fly through real clouds again, to hunt real food. Faster, human.”

Barius’s attack came in silence. A huge spike of rock shot down from the black tunnel. He had used the rod to shape an enormous spear, one that he could release to impale Straum’s skull. The interior of the hole was dark, and Straum shouldn’t have seen the spear coming in time to protect himself.

Jig’s eyes had reverted to their nearsighted state when he left Shadowstar’s temple, so he saw nothing but a black streak heading toward the dragon’s enormous skull. Halfway there, it broke into a cloud of dust and gravel. He twisted his face away as pebbles showered his body.

Barius lay on his back, clutching his head while his face twisted with pain. Ryslind bent down and plucked the rod from his brother’s hands.