“I have known Muckle Gutbuster for more than twenty years,” Sir Corc said. “He could have betrayed me many times. I will vouch for him.”

Rosheen felt herself and Blink being shifted as Deglan stood. He approached the hobgoblins, looking Curdle square in the face.

“You have always told me the truth,” the gnome told him. “Even when it was difficult to hear.” Deglan turned to face the rest of them. “I say we trust this damn albino.”

“And I think you are all mad for following us anywhere,” Muckle chuckled, “which makes you my kind of crazy.”

“To do this,” Rosheen said. “Cast your spell…you will need to be close?”

“Yes,” Curdle confirmed. “Coltrane, Muckle and I will need to be inside the castle and in the path of the Flame Binder’s spell.”

“How are we going to accomplish that?” Deglan griped. “You two might be able to sneak in, what are two more ugly goblins in a castle full of Red Caps!”

“Oi!” Muckle threw in.

“But Coltrane?” Deglan continued. “He cannot just go striding in!”

“Not a problem,” a voice said from the back. They all turned towards Bantam Flyn. “Now what about Pocket?”

“Half a moment,” Muckle looked intrigued. “Did you just say, not a problem?”

“Yes,” the squire returned. “I know how to get you two and the walking anvil inside. Now what about Pocket?”

Curdle gazed for a moment at the young coburn, his face a mask of concentration.

Reading his cocky mind.

“Yes,” the seer said hopefully. “I do believe that will work!”

“I know,” Flyn said impatiently. “Now answer my question about Pocket.”

“I am going in to get him,” Sir Corc said simply.

Bantam Flyn looked at the knight for a moment. “Good enough for me.”

“There is something else,” Deglan said. “Curdle said we have to be willing to risk all…and we are, but there is still a great chance this will fail. Whatever happens there is an opportunity here that we cannot miss. The Flame Binder is strong, and should our hobgoblins’ spell falter, the Forge Born are worse. There is nothing any of us can do against them, but there is somewhere we can strike…a weak and vital link in the Red Caps’ plan. No matter what happens one of us must make sure it is severed.”

Of course.

“What are you saying?” Sir Corc asked.

“He is saying,” Rosheen said. “For the sake of the isle, the Gaunt Prince’s heir must die.”

T WENTY F OUR

TWENTY FOUR