Her eyes kept going to the whirlpool. Jig knew what she was thinking about. She wanted to escape, to find a way back up to the surface. But she was doing everything she could to hide her fear.

As far as he could tell, nobody else had noticed. None of them showed any sign of fear, so they probably didn’t see it in others. They were adventurers, after all. Jig, on the other hand, had enough fear for the entire party.

Maybe that was what made Riana seem smarter than the others. She was no more a hero than Jig was. Of course, she was a young girl, barely more than a baby for her race, whereas Jig was a grown goblin. Why was he so afraid?

He didn’t bother to answer that question. He could have spent the next three hours listing reasons to be afraid, and all it would do was make him even more frightened.

“Our elven thief has a point,” Barius said. “Perhaps she begins to learn wisdom. No doubt the Necromancer’s traps litter this place like horse dung on the highway.”

“A beautiful image, prince,” Ryslind said.

Barius nodded, completely missing the sarcasm. “Brother, I think we must call upon your art once more. Can you guide us through this maze of traps and death?”

“Perhaps we should rest a mite longer,” Darnak said quickly.

Remembering the wizard’s fit after they came through the whirlpool, Jig was inclined to agree.

“There must be another way to find the Necromancer and the path to Straum’s domain. Would anyone be knowing a song, a story, even a rumor about this place?” Darnak looked around hopefully. “Anything at all, no matter how strange or confusing.”

Jig spoke up hesitantly. “I know one, but it wouldn’t help.”

“Let us decide what is helpful,” Barius said. “Perhaps we can intuit some vital fact that you never stopped to consider.”

He wished he had kept quiet. “I don’t think so. It’s not much of a song.”

“Enough protests. Goblins haven’t the intellect to find those kernels of truth hidden within the old songs.”

Jig shrugged and began to sing.

Ten little goblins walked off to drink their wine. Up came the Necromancer, then there were nine. They screamed and they hid and they ran away, But those goblins came back the very next day.

Nine little goblins went looking for a mate,

Up came the Necromancer, then there were eight. They screamed and they hid and they ran away, But those goblins came back the very next day.

Eight little goblins—

“Enough,” Barius shouted.

Jig shifted uncomfortably. “It’s more of a children’s song, really.”

“That is the extent of your knowledge regarding our foe?” Barius had apparently recovered from his injuries, for he pushed himself up and walked over to glare at Jig. “You’ve lived here your entire life, and the best you can do is ‘Ten little goblins’?”