“Impossible,” Deglan snorted. “We are the guardians of Earth! It is unthinkable that the Red Caps could accomplish that without our…knowledge.” He looked into Curdle’s knowing face. “By Earth and Stone!”

“Now you see why the Moot cannot be trusted.”

“Dunloe,” Deglan was sure. “Who else?”

“Feeney certainly,” Curdle replied. “Possibly more.”

“Moundbuilder?”

Curdle shook his head. “I do not know.”

“How do you not know?” Deglan took a step back towards the hobgoblin. “Crawl into their damn skulls and find out!”

“I have tried,” Curdle said sadly. “But I am not the only one with such gifts, Master Loamtoes, and I must tread lightly. This corruption could go as high as the King. If I am discovered, then all my efforts will have been in vain.”

Deglan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What does the Forge Born have to do with all of this?”

Curdle nodded gratefully. “I believe your prisoner spoke truthfully. Torcan does plan to lead an army of living iron, but to do so he needed a Flame Binder to reawaken them. Now he has one. And only the Gaunt Prince’s heir can command them, so if Torcan has indeed found such an heir…“

“He will have an unstoppable army at his disposal.”

Curdle nodded gravely.

“And the Forge Born that I saw in Hog’s Wallow? What of it?”

“He may be the only one that can stop this.”

Deglan’s tongue rebelled again. “How? Why?”

“I will explain on the way,” Curdle said as he rose, drawing his line out of the water and revealing a plump fish flapping on the hook.

“On the way where?”

“To find your Forge Born, of course.” Curdle declared facing him.

“Find it?” Deglan fought the urge to push Curdle into the water. “It could be anywhere! I would not know where to begin. How are we ever going to track that thing down?”

“Oh, do not worry,” Curdle said, bending at the waist and extending the fish out past Deglan’s leg. “I have some friends that will help us.”

“Friends?” Deglan said and then jumped to the side as something suddenly shot past his leg and grabbed the fish from Curdle’s hand. He whirled around to find a large, shaggy hound with grey fur settling down to enjoy the fish. Another dog, just as silent, came out from the shadows to share the catch. The two did not fight over the meal.

Sweat and Panic shared every kill.

A tall figure came down the tunnel, the rippling green light reflected in his raptor’s eyes.

“Deglan Loamtoes,” Curdle said lightly, “I believe you know--”

“Madigan,” Deglan finished. “The Sure Finder.”

S EVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN