Argoth knew Bosser was thinking of his own children. The Bone Faces would make them nine-fingered chattel. They would rape the women, force those they thought were pretty into being concubines. And when they finished, they would draw the Fire of the people to build their armies. They would levy taxes of Days until people began dropping like flies.

“Perhaps it isn’t Bone Faces at all,” said Bosser. “Maybe the ruins have produced this.”

When the first settlers had arrived in this land, they found a number of ridges and cliffs riddled with the ruins of extensive warrens. The Teeth, a six-mile ridge of limestone hills that looked from a distance like the maw of some fearsome fanged animal, was the biggest. These weren’t nasty holes in the ground, but long passages with many chambers. Over the years, many parts had eroded and fallen in. Pools of water stood in what once must have been grand halls. Bats littered the floors in many places with mounds of excrement. But what was left showed the mysterious race had carved with intelligence. For lack of any other name, the settlers called the vanished race stone-wights.

Nobody had seen a living stone-wight. The carvings and bones found in the warrens gave a good idea of what the creatures looked like. They walked upright, some with the long hair of a musk ox, but they were clearly not any breed of human. Their heads were too long for that, as were the short tusks found in a few of the skulls.

Some said the stone-wights were the same type of creature that inhabited the desolate solitudes in the lands of the Kish. The Kish called those creatures Ungar. But Argoth had tracked one many years ago, back in his dark days. He’d never caught the creature, but he had glimpsed it, and it looked nothing like what was carved in the walls of the stone-wight caves. Some saw evidence the stone-wights had worshipped Regret and claimed the other six Creators had obliterated them for their wickedness. This had led Koramite and Mokaddian parents to tell dreadful tales of stone-wights to their children to keep them obedient.

But if the stone-wights had been so wicked, so dedicated to undoing the creation, then why had they delighted in carving so many beautiful things of the world above their lairs? Argoth had seen a people vacate a land because of pestilence or drought. Perhaps this same thing happened to these ancient inhabitants. Argoth suspected the woodikin, who inhabited the wild lands beyond the Gap, knew the true tale, for woodikin were recorded in at least one of the carvings. But humans had not been able to extend their borders much into the wild lands. Even if they could learn how to survive those places, there was too much hate between human and woodikin.

It was true what looked to be records had been found in the stone-wight caves, but nobody could interpret the language. It was as foreign as the tongue of fishes. The stone-wights were a race whose history had been swallowed up by time.

Yet something did live in the caves. The warrens were uncanny places. Odd lights were seen in some of the windows. It was said some passageways whispered. But that did not deter the curious. A scattering of treasure was found along with the bones of odd beasts. But as the first settlers delved deeper, people began to enter and never return.

“Nothing has ever come out of the ruins but bats and snakes,” said Shim.

“That’s not true,” said Bosser.

Shim waved off his objection. “If anything is in there, then it’s had decades of opportunities to come out and feed. Someone would have seen it before. No, this is something else.”

“Whatever it is,” said Argoth, “it finds us in a precarious state of affairs. We can only hope for an embassy from Mokad.”

“Mokad,” said Shim in disgust. “Our lords in Mokad will send nothing. The war with Nilliam has them on their hind legs. Any new Divine they might have raised has been sent to fight. If they were going to help us, they would have sent a Divine months ago. No, we cannot count on them.” He rubbed a weathered hand across the stubble on his jaw in frustration. Then he paused. “But that doesn’t mean we’re lost. Sometimes extreme situations demand extreme measures.” He put his hand on Argoth’s shoulder.

“What measures?” demanded Bosser. “What have we left undone?”

Shim looked meaningfully at Argoth. “There are ways to combat both dread-men and wizards, aren’t there, Captain? There are alliances that can be made.”

“Alliances?” asked Bosser. “Mungo will not lend their wizards to help us.”

“I’m not talking about that type of an alliance. If the events at the village of Plum were not the result of some Bone Face plot, then that means there are”-he paused to find the right words-“other powers abroad.”

Shim had come perilously close to speaking treason. But then Shim was always one to take risks. Shim’s eyes glittered in his leather face. Argoth knew that look. He’d seen it a hundred times as he and Shim had fought and drank and laughed together.

Neither Bosser nor Argoth spoke.

“Such things would require great delicacy,” Shim continued.

Bosser was indignant. “Lords, man,” he said, his r clipped short in anger. “I’d rather die, rather run every member of my house through with my own sword than ally myself with abomination.”

“Our good captain here saved us last year with his seafire. Of course, the Bone Faces obviously have adjusted their tactics. Still, he might save us again. So I’m not talking about casting our lot with monsters,” said Shim. He cocked an eyebrow at Argoth. “Or am I?”

A warning shot through Argoth. Shim knew.

But if he did know, what did it mean that he had not revealed Argoth’s secret?

Bosser turned to Argoth with a look of disbelief and indignation on his face. “What is this?”

Argoth had done all he could to not reveal his lore, to make his fighting look like that of an unmultiplied man. He stroked his neck and felt the husk of the brilliant blue beetle one of his daughters had found and made into a pendant for him. She and her sisters, his son, his courageous wife-they would bear the brunt of the violence that would be directed against him. Even if some individuals in the Clans trusted him, many more would fear him. And they would exercise their fears upon his children.

“Lord Shim,” said Argoth, “I do not know what you suggest.”

“Don’t you?” asked Shim.

Arogth looked at his lord, his friend. As much of a friend as one might have and still keep the kinds of secrets Argoth did. He bowed his head. “I am sorry, Lord. I truly wish I knew how to help.”

11

Da returned in the early evening and whistled Talen and the others in from the fields. Talen was more than happy to oblige. Most of the injuries from the villagers had receded to a dull throb. But the one close to his kidney had not. It hurt every time he tried to stand straight.

They loaded the saws, axe, billhooks, hoggin, and bush knives into a pushcart and began to walk back, Prince Conroy following behind. As they approached the yard, Conroy must have heard the new hens, for he let out a squawk, made an end run about the dogs, and raced to the yard.

Talen put away his tools and joined his father. Conroy stood on the handcart eying four golden hens in their baskets and vocalizing whatever thoughts roosters did to their new ladies.

“Only four?” asked Ke. “I thought we had enough for six. Has Mol raised his prices?”

“No,” said Da. “Mol’s in a bad way. So I advanced him a payment for a load of goose down and a few hat feathers.”

“Did you see anything in the woods?” asked Talen.

“In fact, I did.” Da paused, looked at each of them, taking on an air of one about to tell a harrowing story. “Trees. There were lots of trees.”