"Don't mind them," Tavis said. As he spoke, the color of his bruised chest was lightening from blackish-purple to pale crimson, and he could feel the goddess's strength coursing through his bones. "That's just their nature."
"If you say so." The bodyguard stood and started back toward the battle. "I'll go see what's happening at the Fir Palace."
As Morten left, Brianna moved her talisman to the scout's arm and cast her second healing spell. To the fomorians' obvious disappointment, Tavis remained quiet as the scarred flesh on his forearm slowly smoothed itself back to normal. He felt more of Hiatea's magic flowing up through his shoulder, and even the weakness caused by his dehydration seemed to fade.
Brianna left her talisman in place for several minutes. Only after the magical glow had faded and the silver had turned cold did she take it from Tavis's arm.
"I hope that's better." She still did not meet his eyes.
The scout stood, then grabbed Bear Driller and drew the bowstring back. The effort caused a little pain in all his wounds, but he now felt more than strong enough to nock a few ogre arrows on its string.
"I should be able to kill a few ogres now," he said.
"Then you'll need some arrows," Morten said, returning from his observation post. He was carrying a full quiver of ogre arrows in one hand and stone hand axe in the other. "I took these from a dead ogre at the edge of the stand."
"The battle's still going strong?" Tavis asked. The scout noticed that Morten's throat wound was about to fester again, for it had grown red and swollen. There's no sign that the ogres are coming after us?"
"They couldn't if they wanted to." The bodyguard handed the quiver to Tavis. "The giants are going after them like bears after dogs."
The report alarmed the scout. "What about the shaman?" he asked. "Isn't he doing anything to help his warriors?"
Morten shook his head. "Not that I can see."
"We'd better get out of here, fast," Tavis said. "If Goboka's not helping his warriors, he's looking for us."
Tavis turned to leave, but when the fomorians stood up to follow, Morten grabbed the scout by the shoulder. "Are we going to let them come with us?"
"Ooo help you," the female reminded Morten. "You help Ooo and Ig."
"Smashing palace wall easy," said Ig, stepping to Ooo's side. "But need Tavis Burdun to leave valley."
Tavis nodded. "It's a fair bargain."
"I suppose so." The bodyguard stepped close to Tavis, then spoke more quietly. "But be careful. You can't trust fomorians."
"They deserve a chance," Brianna said. She glanced at Tavis, then looked away. "I recall both of us saying the same thing about a certain firbolg-and look how wrong we were."
"This is different," Morten grumbled.
Tavis smiled to himself, then led the way through the thicket. With Ig half staggering and half hopping along behind them, there was no possibility of moving with any kind of stealth. The scout tried to reduce the likelihood of ambush by traveling as far ahead of his companions as practical, but he did not think his efforts would do much good. The fomorian's gait was so clumsy that, even with the din of battle still raging around the Fir Palace, a careful listener almost anywhere in the valley would hear him crashing through the thicket. Tavis tried not to worry about the noise, since there was little he or anyone else could do about it.
In contrast to Ig, Ooo moved with the uncanny silence typical to most fomorians. Her immense figure seemed to glide through the thicket in slow motion. She made no wasted gestures, placed each foot with precision and care. She was so graceful that the scout even began to think of her as beautiful-though in a dangerous sort of way. Tavis had seen enough carnage wrought by her race to know fomorians used their remarkable stealth for purposes as twisted as their forms.
They reached the edge of the stand. The scout motioned for the others to wait, then stood behind a fir bole and studied the ground ahead. The small field was dotted with boulders, tufts of long yellow-green grass, and bright clumps of dainty alpine flowers. There was no sign of the battle between Goboka's horde and the hill giants, but Tavis knew better than to assume there were no ogres nearby just because he did not see them.
Across the small field, a ridge of barren bedrock curved toward the cliff with the High Gate. The granite face stood at such an angle that neither the fault cave nor the timber road was visible, but the scout could see a well-traveled giant path leading up the crest of the ridge. From what little he remembered of the journey down from the gate, the trail was both long and arduous, and they would be visible for much of its length.
