“It should.” She glared at the prince’s back. “It’s his.”

Feeling bolder now that he was armed, Jig walked back to the corpses and took a large belt pouch for himself. Dumping a few corroded coins on the floor, he tied the pouch at his waist, then dropped Smudge inside. “Only until my shoulders have a chance to heal,” he promised.

Once everything was repacked, new oil poured into the lantern, a few last touches made to Darnak’s map, and everyone had eaten enough to take the edge off their hunger, they proceeded to sit around for another hour while Ryslind meditated. The life of an adventurer appeared to consist of roughly six parts boredom to one part stark terror, or so it seemed to Jig.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked.

“Silence,” Barius hissed.

“He’s needing to clear his mind and renew his focus,” Darnak said softly. “Those tattoos on his arms are a spell, one that keeps him ever open to the power he uses for magic. Far better than books or scrolls, but a permanent spell is a permanent burden, and if he doesn’t stop to rest, the spell could snap, leaving him powerless when he needs it most.”

“What about his eyes?” Jig asked. “Is that a part of his magic?”

Darnak grinned. “Nah. He did that to himself a year or so back. Thought it would make him look scarier or some nonsense like that. Turns out he got the spell wrong, and he hasn’t figured out how to make it go away. The glow gets worse when he’s pushed himself.”

When Ryslind’s eyes shot open, they looked almost human, with only the faintest trace of red. “I am ready.”

Barius and Jig again took the lead as they neared the lake. They passed several side passageways, but Jig was out of his territory now, and when asked where the tunnels led, could only shrug and say, “The lake is this way.”

He didn’t like leaving unexplored tunnels behind them, but better to hurry past than to go sticking his nose in places where a large paw might rip it from his face.

The rush of water grew louder. Their cautious whispers became shouts, as anything less was drowned out by the noise from the lake. A fine mist coated Jig’s face and tickled his ears. Soon he was constantly flicking his ears in protest.

The tunnel widened, and then the walls peeled back completely to reveal an enormous cavern. Dark red obsidian gleamed as if polished, the water having renewed the rock’s shine. The walls stretched out of sight to either side.

“What are those?” Riana pointed to the ceiling.

Jig could barely make out the clumps of green, but he knew what they were. “They’re just rocks.”