“Not always,” Darnak said. “At times they’re burned on a funeral pyre so their sparks can rise to the heavens.”

“That’s disgusting,” Jig said without thinking.

Darnak stiffened, and the humans wore matching expressions of anger, their eyes narrowed and their lips tight.

“Those who want to keep breathing know it’s not a wise thing to be mocking dwarven rituals, goblin.”

Jig swallowed. “I only meant . . . well, the smell. Burning hair and skin.” His own hair had been bad enough when Smudge vaporized it. The idea of burning an entire body was enough to turn his stomach.

The dwarf’s eyes were wide with shock. “And how do goblins honor the dead? What, did your friends throw the bodies into a pit somewhere to rot?”

“They’re only bodies,” Jig said quietly. He wanted to shrink into the shadows, like Riana was doing. With everyone’s attention squarely on him, that was impossible. He didn’t know what he had said to anger everyone, but he knew he had better calm them down quickly. “We leave them for the carrion-worms.”

“For the worms,” Darnak repeated quietly. “ ’Tis an offense against the gods, even for goblins.”

Jig wanted to argue, but that would only fuel their anger. Better to stare at the floor and hope they didn’t decide to punish him for whatever offense it was that goblins had committed. The gods had never complained, so why should these adventurers? It wasn’t like goblins left human and dwarven bodies for the worms. Dead adventurers were things to be valued and treasured. Especially warriors, who often carried enough muscle to make an entire meal by themselves.

He started to explain, then noticed Riana, who still looked a bit nauseated. Maybe they wouldn’t take kindly to hearing that, if they died, they would end up in Golaka’s cauldron. But if they didn’t want to be left for the worms and they didn’t want to fill goblin bellies, they should go somewhere else to die.

The thought of Golaka reminded him of the smells of the kitchen, and in that instant he felt a wash of homesickness stronger than anything he had ever experienced. He would have given anything to be back in the lair, stealing just one sip from Golaka’s huge stirring spoon, tasting the tender meat and tangy broth. He eyed Darnak and tried not to think about the last time he had tasted fresh dwarf.

“The tunnel splits,” Barius said, raising his lantern so they could see the dark openings up ahead. “Which way, guide?”

Thankful for the change of subject, Jig hurried to the front and stared at the two tunnels. The right branch was one he knew well. Depending on the turns they took, that tunnel would take them back to goblin territory. Other branchings led to the hobgoblins, an abandoned storeroom now infested with giant rats, and eventually to the lake. The left path could go anywhere.