Progress was much slower than Jig had expected. After an hour, they still hadn’t reached the junction of the three tunnels. Goblins in a hurry could run the distance in under ten minutes.

But goblins weren’t accompanied by a dwarven scribe, one who insisted on mapping every twist and turn, often retracing his steps so he could get a more accurate sense of the distance. By the time they finally reached the junction point, Jig wanted to scream. Bad enough to be a prisoner whose only hope at this point was to die quickly before they reached the lake. Listening to Darnak mumble to himself, “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six . . .

no wait, there’s a turn here, better pace off the inside and outside walls . . . wonder if the tunnel narrows at all . . . nope, still six paces wide . . .” was pure torture.

Worse, as a dwarf and a teacher, Darnak apparently thought it his duty to critique the stonework as they went, and he was eager to share his observations with the others. “Mahogany obsidian, definitely magic. Someone sent enough heat through this place to melt the rock itself. Even the ceilings have a layer of the stuff. Molten rock is denser, see, so Ellnorein basically burned this place into the mountain. The dark red color comes from impurities in the rock, iron and other elements.”

He stopped to hit a small hammer against the wall. Jig jumped.

“Look there, not even a scratch. Normal obsidian flakes away and leaves a nasty edge. I’m guessing that’s magic at work again. Good thing, too. If the floor were chipped and rough like normal obsidian, it would shred your feet right through those boots.”

“Wait,” Ryslind said suddenly. He held up a hand, cutting off Darnak’s insights on the buildup of dirt and dust by generations of goblins. Taking the lantern, he shone a light back down the tunnel. “There should be bodies here. I shot at least six goblins before joining you.”

“You only now noticed their absence, brother?” Barius grabbed his sword. “Your powers of observation continue to astound me.”

Darnak knelt to study the ground. No trace of blood showed on the floor.

“Could we have passed the corpses without noticing?” Barius asked skeptically.

“Nah. I’d have drawn them on the map.”

“I can understand coming back to collect the bodies,” Ryslind said, looking at Jig. “But would your people have cleaned the blood from the floors?”

“Why would we return for goblin dead?” Jig asked. “We’ve eaten well these past days.”

Only Riana seemed to catch the implications of Jig’s words. She turned slightly green and clutched her hands tightly to her stomach.

“To give them a proper burial,” Barius said.

“You bury your dead?” Jig stared, trying to understand. Well, the surface was probably easier to dig than the impenetrable rock of the mountain. Still that sounded like so much more work than leaving the bodies for the carrion-worms.