“Good evening, Madigan,” Curdle said pleasantly from his seat on a log.

The hunter gave the hobgoblin the same response he had given Deglan, and strode over to a low hanging branch where he deftly hung the remaining two rabbits. He pulled a long iron knife from his belt and was about to skin the animals when Deglan saw him toss a glance at he and Curdle. Madigan sheathed the iron blade and drew a second, this one of bronze and set to work without further delay.

“Most considerate of you, Madigan,” Curdle said. “We thank you.”

Deglan frowned. He did not remember thanking anybody.

“He knows iron is poison to us.”

Deglan looked over the fire and found Curdle looking at him.

“Not unless he stabs us with it. Which I am still not sure he won’t do.”

Curdle did not take the bait, merely wrinkling his brow with resignation and going back to his scroll. Damn albino was always reading.

Deglan looked back to Madigan and tensed when he saw Blink standing at the man’s leg, looking up intently as he skinned the rabbits. They made a contrasting pair.

Dressed in skins, lean with muscle, every inch of him full of feral strength, Madigan was as savage and hard as Blink was precious and frail. His chin and lip were shaved to rough stubble, but his straw colored hair hung in long whiskers from his cheeks and in twisted locks from his head. He appeared not to take notice of the child’s presence, but Deglan thought he saw the man pause in his task a few times as if giving Blink time to absorb his actions.

She became more reserved when the huntsman was around, her gaze more fixed, but it was not the withdrawn stare of the little girl Deglan had rescued. Rather, she was concentrated, determined, intently curious. But as encouraged as he was with her recovery, Deglan was concerned about its source. Madigan the Sure Finder was not someone he could ever trust.

When Curdle explained that the man had been hunting him, Deglan could not suppress a shiver. And it was not skill or cunning or even luck that had saved him from Sweat and Panic, no, it was two damn Red Caps. From Madigan’s thoughts, Curdle had learned that the huntsman had been set on Deglan’s trail by Acwellen for conspiring with the Red Caps to destroy Hog’s Wallow. But then he witnessed Deglan kill Nape and Canker, rescuing Blink in the process and Madigan began to doubt. He followed all the way to the entrance of Toad Holm where he could not enter, but Curdle sensed him and his dogs.

“Three minds that function as one,” Curdle had explained. “It is a rare and singular sensation. Difficult to ignore.”