They stood in the silence of the cave for a long time. Deglan stared up into the shadows, wondering if the thing had finally stopped working. He turned to follow Curdle when there came a scraping thud as the Forge Born stepped forward. The weak light from the distant sun revealed its strange face, fashioned with rivets, deep black slits serving as eyes. It still wore the shabby piece of wool over its body and the tip of the scabbard Deglan knew to be empty poked from behind its iron leg.

“I will help.”

Curdle bowed his head in relief and his voice was barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Coltrane.”

The hobgoblin led the metal brute out of the cave and into the light of day. Deglan stayed behind, watching them.

“I hate this thing,” he grumbled at last, shaking his head as he left the cave.

T WENTY O NE

TWENTY ONE

The old elf road crawled defiantly between the low hills, struggling against the weeds and roots which threatened to consume its once smoothly laid stones. In Ages past, all of Airlann had been connected by such roads, but their caretakers had long since abandoned them, the Magic which sustained them slowly unraveling.

It is all fading.

Rosheen sat inside what was left of one of the intricately carved stone lampposts that stood beside the road. In bygone days, they marked every mile, glowing with Fae light after sunset to offer comfort and safety to travelers. This was the first Rosheen had found still standing after countless miles, and she took shelter against the cold, spitting rain under its crumbling roof. She wondered if it still came to life at night, shining with pale blue fire. There would be no knowing. Sir Corc had them traveling quickly, and they would be a long way from this spot come nightfall. Barring the rivers, the derelict roads were still the swiftest way to travel overland, but they were exposed and easy to watch. It was a risk to be on them with unknown numbers of Red Caps loose across the isle, but sticking to the cover of trees and wild hills would be slow going. Too slow for Sir Corc’s liking. Wherever their destination, the knight wanted to reach it sooner rather than later.

Rosheen had been asked to scout ahead for signs of goblins or other eyes watching the road. So far they had been fortunate, encountering nothing but a fox slinking across the stones. She had been flying back regularly to report, but her wings were growing tired.

Let them catch up to me.