“Wait!” Evin cried, then jumped forward to the grab the door before it could shut all the way. “Please, it’s important, the dog-men—”

Inside, the girl said, “Gnolls.”

“Excuse me?” Evin asked. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes of daylight so as to see inside. It remained shrouded in shadow.

Then, the girl was in front of him, standing nose to nose and eye to eye. “‘Dog-men’ is not the correct term for the creatures who took your friends. They’re called gnolls.”

“Gnolls,” Evin repeated, unable to unlock his eyes from the girl’s.

“That’s right. Gnolls. Cackling, ubiquitous, dumb hordes driven by hunger. Too cowardly to hunt alone, they are mostly found in packs. They like to eat people because they scream more.” She waved her hands in the air as though presenting something. “Gnolls.”

The girl relayed the information as though she’d had to recite it before, in the same way Evin’s father made him repeat the family recipe for mulled wine when he was younger.

“Oh, all right,” Evin said. “So, these gnolls like to … eat people?”

The girl nodded. “Yes, they usually pounce upon them, eat their fill, and leave the carcasses to the scavenger birds. Really, I’m surprised someone from a place so close to Curston as Hesiod has never heard of gnolls. That’s like saying you’ve never heard of goblins. They’re everywhere, and they’re rather annoying.”

Evin shrugged. “We never had any gnolls or other monsters come near our town. Not that I know of, anyway.”

The girl looked Evin up and down, then crossed her arms. “Gnolls took your people and you’re off to find them, and you know nothing about the creatures?” She shook her head. “No wonder the witch sent you here. You’re totally clueless.”

Evin bristled at that, but he kept his smile plastered on his face. “Well, can you clue us in?”

The girl shoved her hair behind her pointed ears, then put her delicate hands on her hips. It was then that Evin realized this girl, this wizard, was an elf. Evin had never seen an elf before, but he’d heard of them. Elves were notorious for their ethereal beauty, as well as their complete and utter snobbishness. So far, it seemed she quite lived up to the stereotype.

Sighing, the elf girl walked back into the darkness of the tower. Her white robe embroidered with intricate, runic patterns swirled around her feet. She turned back to look at Evin. “Come on, then. And bring your angry little friend too.”

“Thank you!” Evin said. “Thank you very much!”

From the depths of the tower, the girl called out, “Hurry before I change my mind.”

Evin left the door halfway open, spun around, and bounded to where Jorick still sat in the dirt and weeds.