Evin swallowed and crawled backward as silently as he could until he reached the door. When he was safely out of sight, he stood and ran back to his friends.

“What did you see?” Bet asked.

“Are the villagers there?” Jorick asked at the same time.

Marten banged his head against the wall and muttered, “They are going to tear us apart!”

“Stop!” Evin hissed. He crouched at his brother’s side and grabbed the boy’s head in both hands. “Please, stop it.”

Marten’s pale, glassy eyes met Evin’s. His lips opened and closed, opened and closed, but no more sound came out. Something was wrong with him, terribly wrong.

“There’re gnolls, lots of them,” Evin said. “And the villagers are there too. I’m afraid … I’m afraid the beasts might be planning to eat them.”

Jorick leaped to his feet and pulled free his sword. “No!”

“Wait!” Bet placed a gentle hand on Jorick’s shoulder. “We need to be quiet. We can’t draw them to us.”

Trembling, the boy sheathed his sword and nodded.

Evin let go of Marten’s head slowly. He stood, not taking his eyes off his brother’s face. “Marten?” he asked quietly. “We need to go now, quietly. Can you walk?”

“I can …,” Marten said. “I cannot … I don’t want to die. …”

“Leave him,” Bet said.

Evin spun on her, heat rushing to his cheeks. “I’m not going to leave my brother.”

“He’s acting unpredictable.” She turned her back to Evin and started down the hall. “You can bring him if you like, but if he starts screaming and the gnolls come after us, it’s on you.”

Evin clenched his fists. He wanted to scream at Bet, but she was right. If Marten started wailing again, they’d all be caught.

“I’m going to go away for a few moments,” Evin whispered to Marten. “But I’ll be back, I promise. Can you stay here?”

Marten didn’t look up at him. He just nodded.

Swallowing, Evin turned to Jorick and motioned forward with his head. Jorick nodded, and the two padded after Bet, meeting her at the partially open stone door. Together, all three crawled onto the balcony and peered over the edge.

The cavernous chamber was the same as Evin had left it: gnolls amassed around the flames, and villagers huddled against the outer wall. The gnolls were still salivating, still talking in their strange hound language, still moving about restlessly. But they hadn’t begun to feast—yet.

“What are they waiting for?” Jorick muttered.

“I think they’re talking in some other language,” Evin whispered. He looked at Bet. “Maybe if there was some way we could understand them. …”