Chương 70: Chapter 54: Training and Preparation

[Congratulations! Pebble Toss has reached Tier 1 – Level 10.] [Spell Evolution Available.] [Proceed to Spell Evolution.] Grub stared at the translucent window hovering in the air before him. For a moment he didn't move. He'd been waiting for this. Almost two weeks of training had pushed nearly every part of his body to its limit. Mornings sparring with Throk until his arms shook from deflecting blows. Afternoons working drills with Kesh until his footwork finally stopped betraying him.

In between, he still joined the tribe on hunts, running the forest with Sable and the others and throwing Spell after Spell at fleeing deer, rabbits, and boar. And at night, when the cave quieted and the wolves settled near the entrance, he practiced even more. Over and over until his Mana was empty. Pebble Toss after Pebble Toss snapped from his fingers until the motion felt as natural as breathing. Stone after stone slammed into the walls inside the cave. Again. Again.

Again. Until the Spell had finally tipped over the edge. And now the System offered him another choice. It was one he would need if he were to win his duel against the Duskroot Chief. Grub sat down and focused his thoughts. The window shifted, and four options appeared. [Spell Evolution Options] Stone Spear Channel mana into a nearby stone, reshaping it into a sharpened spear before launching it with tremendous force. The projectile carries high penetrating power. Accuracy and penetration scale with Intelligence.

Rapid Pebble Break a nearby stone into several smaller fragments and launch them in rapid succession. Individual projectiles deal reduced damage, but the low mana cost and fast casting speed allow sustained fire. Casting speed scales with Intelligence. Seeker Pebble Shape a nearby stone into a compact projectile that subtly bends toward its target after release. The projectile deals reduced damage but is difficult to evade. Homing strength scales with Intelligence.

Crushing Shot Compress a nearby stone into a dense projectile and launch it with heavy blunt force. The impact delivers powerful kinetic shock but carries little penetrating force. Impact force scales with Intelligence. Grub read through the options once, then again. Rapid Pebble caught his attention first. Against several enemies, being able to keep stone flying almost continuously could be devastating. Seeker Pebble solved a different problem, making a moving target much harder to miss.

But neither was what he needed tomorrow. The duel would be one opponent, fought at close enough range that Grub might not get many chances to cast. He needed whatever chance he did get to count. His attention settled on the remaining two options. Crushing Shot had an obvious force behind it. A dense stone projectile slamming into someone with that much weight could stagger them, maybe even break bone. But it was still a blunt impact. A shield could catch it.

Thick hide armor might absorb enough of the force to keep the Chief on his feet for a counterattack, and Grub had no idea what the Duskroot Chief might bring into the duel. Stone Spear offered something more direct. Its entire purpose was penetration, driving through whatever stood between the projectile and the body behind it. Grub imagined a rock stretching into a lance of stone before snapping forward with lethal speed.

If he managed to land a clean hit, the fight might end before the Chief even understood what had happened. Then another thought formed. Could he combine it with Stone Fragmentation? Grub's eyes narrowed slightly. If the spear punched into the target… … then it would still be stone. Stone he could still control. Stone that he might be able to break apart. The image formed in his mind almost instantly. A spear driving into a goblin's chest, followed by the stone bursting apart inside him. Grub let out a quiet breath.

He didn't know whether the System would allow the two Spells to interact that way. Stone Spear already suited the fight better than the other choices, though, and if the combination worked... That was enough to decide it. Grub lifted his hand and made his choice. The System responded instantly. [Congratulations! Pebble Toss has evolved into Stone Spear.] Stone Spear [Tier 2 - Level 1 - 0%]: Channel mana into a nearby stone, reshaping it into a sharpened spear before launching it with tremendous force.

The projectile carries high penetrating power. Accuracy and penetration scale with Intelligence. Range: 60 feet | Cost: 15 Mana Grub read the description of the Spell a few times, committing it to memory. Then he stood. The cavern had settled into its usual evening rhythm. Wolves shifted near the entrance while Hunters sorted gear for the morning, and somewhere farther back, wood struck stone as one of the Builders fought with a stubborn brace. Grub barely noticed any of it.

He headed toward the training circle near the cavern entrance, where Throk and Kesh were already waiting for him. Throk stood in the center with a hide-wrapped sword resting against one shoulder, looking far too relaxed for someone who had spent most of the last two weeks knocking Grub onto his back. Kesh lingered near the edge of the circle, turning one of her padded daggers between her fingers. Throk spotted him first.

"You're late."

"I was choosing a Spell." Throk lowered the sword from his shoulder.

"You finally evolved it? Into what?" Grub nodded." Stone Spear." A grin spread across Throk's face.

"Sounds useful. You can show me after I knock you on your ass again." Grub gave him a flat look.

"Your confidence continues to inspire me."

"It should." Grub walked toward the weapons lying near the edge of the circle and picked out his own. It was barely more than a three-foot shaft of smoothed wood. The first morning they'd trained, Throk had handed him a proper Ironfang spear and then spent most of the next few minutes laughing while Grub fought the weapon almost as much as he fought his opponent.

At five or six feet long, the spear had been built for a larger goblin with longer arms, more weight behind his stance, and no reason to keep one hand free for magic. Grub had discovered very quickly that he possessed none of those advantages. The shaft caught against the ground when he turned too sharply, dragged his balance forward when he overextended, and demanded both hands whenever he wanted enough control to recover quickly.

Worse, every time he committed both hands to the weapon, the stones hanging at his belt became nearly useless. By the next morning, Grub had cut almost half the shaft away. Throk had complained that it wasn't a proper spear anymore. Grub had pointed out that he'd stopped tripping over it. Neither had managed to fully convince the other. The shortened weapon fit Grub far better.

He could thrust and recover with one hand, keep the other free for his magic, and move through the cramped angles of a close fight without fighting the length of his own weapon. His real spear carried a wickedly barbed stone head he had carved himself, since metal still interfered too much with his Spells. For practice, the plain wooden shaft served well enough. Grub rolled it once through his palm and stepped into the circle.

"Kesh first?" he asked.

"No," Kesh said.

"Throk." Throk's grin widened. Grub sighed.

"Of course."

"You'll be fighting a Chief," Kesh said.

"Better you remember what it feels like when someone stronger than you decides to come straight through your guard."

"I like when you make sense," Throk said, rolling his shoulders. Kesh gave him a look.

"Shut up and hit him." Grub didn't think it was possible for Throk to look any happier than he did in that moment. Then he moved. There was no warning beyond the subtle shift of his weight. His wrapped sword came down hard from Grub's right, and Grub brought the short spear across to meet it. The impact hammered through both arms, but Grub turned with it rather than trying to stop Throk's strength outright. The sword slid along the shaft, and Grub stepped aside before Throk could drive straight through him.

Throk followed immediately, as he always did. His next swing came toward Grub's shoulder. He ducked beneath it and retreated before Throk could crowd him, then thrust toward the larger goblin's ribs. Throk knocked the spear aside almost casually, but Grub recovered quickly enough to evade the return swing. Another followed, and Grub caught that one against the shaft, redirected it, and slipped sideways. For several exchanges, Throk didn't touch him. Grub almost smiled. Then he got greedy.

Throk left his side open for half a heartbeat, and Grub lunged farther than he should have. The spear missed as Throk shifted away, leaving Grub's arm extended and his weight too far forward. He saw the wrapped sword coming toward his ribs, and knew there was no time to block. Earthen Skin answered, and packed earth swept across Grub's legs, chest, and arms in an instant, hardening just before Throk's sword struck his side. The blow drove him sideways, but the earthen shell took the worst of it.

Grub released the Spell almost as quickly as he had cast it, allowing the armor to break apart and fall away before his next step, leaving him free to twist out of Throk's reach and bring the spear back between them. Throk's grin widened.

"Getting better." Grub barely had time to register the praise before Throk came after him again. That was what made fighting him so miserable. Throk didn't need clever tricks or complicated feints. He simply kept coming, using his greater strength and weight to turn every exchange into a choice between giving ground or being crushed beneath the next blow. Grub slipped backward as the next strike cut toward his shoulder, but Throk stepped with him.

Grub thrust for his ribs, forcing him to knock the spear aside, then tried to circle past before the larger goblin could crowd him again. Throk stepped straight into him, shoulder lowered. Earthen Skin swept over him an instant before the impact. The hardened layer absorbed some of the collision, but it did nothing about Throk weighing considerably more than he did. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Grub left the ground and hit the cavern floor hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. This time, he hadn't dropped the Spell. He pushed himself onto one elbow and felt the difference immediately. He could still move, but not quite as freely, the earthen layer adding just enough stiffness across his limbs and torso to make the motion less fluid. A web of cracks spread across the armor covering his chest and shoulder where Throk had struck him.

By the time Grub looked up, the larger goblin stood over him with the wrapped sword pointed toward his chest.

"Dead," Throk said cheerfully. Grub let Earthen Skin fall away and frowned.

"You didn't use your sword." Throk shrugged.

"I have shoulders too." Grub stared up at him.

"You're incredibly frustrating to fight." Throk's grin broadened.

"Good."

"No, I mean it." Grub accepted the hand Throk offered and let himself be hauled upright.

"You don't stop. I move, you're there. I block, you hit harder. I try to make space, and somehow there's less space than before."

"That's the idea."

"It's like fighting something inevitable." Throk laughed happily.

"I like that." Grub grinned despite himself.

"Of course you do." Kesh stepped into the circle as Throk moved away.

"Now my turn." Grub reset his grip. Kesh didn't rush him like Throk did, which almost made her worse. She circled slowly instead, both wrapped daggers held low, her eyes moving over him without ever seeming to settle on the weapon in his hand. Grub turned with her. A blade suddenly flashed toward his left side. His eyes snapped toward it, and he brought the spear across his body. Nothing struck it, and the padded tip of Kesh's other dagger touched his ribs.

"Dead." Grub frowned.

"You watched the weapon," Kesh said.

"I was supposed to." She shook her head.

"You were supposed to watch me." She stepped away.

"Again." This time Grub watched her shoulders, hips, and feet instead of following every flicker of the blades. Kesh circled once, her weight shifting as the right dagger moved, but Grub held still. Then the left blade flashed high. He reacted too quickly, raising the spear to intercept it. The instant Kesh pulled back without committing, Grub knew he had fallen for the feint. He never saw the other dagger coming, but he knew he'd left himself open.

Earthen Skin snapped over his body, and something immediately struck the hardened earth across his opposite ribs with a dull thud. Kesh stopped. Grub looked down, then back at her. Her mouth twitched.

"Good."

"I didn't even see that one."

"No, but you knew I had you." Grub dismissed the Spell, and the earth crumbled away.

"That was the idea." Kesh came at him again. For the next several exchanges, Grub managed to keep her away. He caught one dagger against the shaft of his spear, retreated before the second could reach him, and used the short spear's reach to force her back whenever she tried to slip inside his guard. For several breaths, it almost felt like he understood what she was doing. Then Kesh vanished from the place he expected her to be.

Grub turned too late, and before he knew it, a dagger rested against the side of his neck.

"Dead." He exhaled sharply, then nodded once. Kesh stepped back. Grub stared at her.

"You're also incredibly frustrating to fight." Her mouth twitched.

"For different reasons, I assume." Grub ran a hand over his face.

"With Throk, I can at least see the problem coming." A laugh came from outside the circle, but Grub ignored it.

"You're like fighting a shadow," he continued. Every time I think I have you lined up, you're already somewhere else. I swing where you should be, and somehow you're standing where I didn't want you to go." Kesh's smile became slightly more visible.

"You're starting to understand."

"I understand that I hate it."

"That's also useful." Throk laughed again. Grub shook out his aching arm and walked over to a nearby waterskin to drink. Over the last two weeks, this had become the rhythm of his evenings. Throk taught him what happened when something larger and stronger refused to give him room to breathe, while Kesh taught him how quickly one bad read or misplaced step could end a fight before he even realized he had made a mistake. Earthen Skin had become part of that rhythm as well.

Grub could move while the earthen armor covered him, but never quite as cleanly as without it. Leaving it active protected him at the cost of a little speed and fluidity, so he had learned to call it up only when he needed it and dismiss it the moment he didn't. Sometimes he saw the hit coming. Sometimes he only realized too late that he had given his opponent an opening. Either way, the Spell could buy him another chance. Throk stepped back into the circle.

"Again." Grub frowned.

"You just had your turn." Throk looked toward Kesh. She smiled. Grub immediately disliked that.

"No."

"Yes," Throk said. Kesh moved to Grub's other side. He looked from one to the other.

"The duel won't be two against one."

"No," Kesh agreed, "but if you can keep thinking while both of us are trying to hit you, one Chief should feel much simpler."

"That logic sounds suspicious."

"It's good logic," Throk said. Grub looked at him suspiciously.

"You would say that. You just want to hit me again."

"Yes." Then they came at him together. Throk struck first, driving his wrapped sword down with enough force to make Grub's arm buckle. Instead of trying to stop the blow, Grub turned with it and let the blade slide along the shaft, already shifting his feet because he knew Kesh would be moving. He stepped away from Kesh's attack, only to find Throk already closing the space behind him. Grub pivoted, thrust once to force Throk back, and almost slipped through the gap between them. Almost.

Kesh appeared at his side, and Grub caught the movement just a moment too late. Earthen Skin swept over him just as her dagger struck his ribs. The blow glanced off the hardened earth. Grub dropped the Spell and kept moving. Throk was already swinging. There was no room to dodge and no time to bring the spear around. Earthen Skin returned, and the wrapped sword crashed against the armor covering Grub's arm and shoulder, cracking the earthen layer and knocking him half a step sideways.

He dismissed it again before the stiffness could interfere with his recovery. For a few precious heartbeats, neither of them touched him again. Grub blocked Kesh with the shaft, ducked beneath Throk's next swing, and rolled sideways before they could close around him, coming up on one knee. Kesh moved high. Grub saw the dagger and shifted to meet it, only for her to pull away at the last instant. He knew immediately. Wrong one.

Before he could recover, however, Throk's practice sword struck the back of his knee and folded his leg beneath him with a grunt of pain. Kesh's dagger settled against his bare throat before he reached the ground.

"Dead." Grub lay there staring at the cavern ceiling.

"Six seconds."

"Twelve," Kesh corrected as she lowered the dagger.

"That's better than yesterday." Grub looked at her, then took the hand she offered. As she pulled him upright, the System chimed softly inside his head. He froze. Throk's expression changed immediately.

"What?" Grub raised one hand, and a familiar pane opened before him. [Congratulations! Spear Proficiency has reached Level 4.] He stared at it for a moment, then looked down at the shortened wooden shaft in his hand.

"Still strange that this counts." Kesh raised an eyebrow.

"What does?"

"Spear Proficiency. Another level." Grub turned the practice weapon over in his hand.

"Even though Throk insists this isn't a spear."

"It isn't," Throk said. Grub looked at him.

"It has a point on one end and I stab things with it."

"A stick can have a point." He raised an eyebrow.

"And if I stab you with it?"

"Then you've stabbed me with a stick." Kesh sighed.

"The System disagrees with you." Throk's expression soured, which made Grub smile.

"That must be difficult for you."

"Again," Throk said. Grub's smile disappeared. Kesh laughed softly as she returned to her place. Grub reset his grip on the short shaft.

"Fine." He lowered his stance.

"Again." The final round ended with Grub on his back again, though this time he had lasted long enough that Throk looked mildly disappointed by it. Grub accepted Kesh's hand and pulled himself upright, breathing hard. Throk lowered his wrapped sword.

"Enough." Grub blinked.

"Already?"

"You have something to show us." Grub glanced down at the short spear in his hand. Right. Between finally evolving Pebble Toss and immediately getting his ass beaten around the training circle, he had nearly forgotten why he'd been late in the first place. Kesh was already stripping the hide wrapping from one of her daggers.

"If we're going to stake the raid on this Spell, Dravak should see it too." Throk nodded toward the central hearth.

"Go get him."

"You go get him."

"I'm tired."

"You spent the last hour hitting me."

"Exactly. That's tiring." Kesh sighed and walked away before either could continue. A few minutes later, all four of them stood outside the cavern. The evening light had begun to fade behind the trees, leaving the clearing washed in gray. Snow still clung beneath the deeper shadows, but elsewhere the thaw had exposed patches of wet earth and dead grass. Throk dragged an old section of hardened hide armor over to a dead tree near the edge of the clearing and fastened it around the trunk.

"There." He stepped back and slapped the hide once.

"Closer to what a Chief might actually be wearing." Dravak folded his arms.

"Show us." Grub reached into the pouch at his belt and chose a stone. The System had given him the knowledge of Stone Spear the moment he selected it, just as it had with Earthen Skin and Stone Fragmentation. He knew how to reach for the Spell, how the Mana should move, and what the stone was supposed to become. Knowing wasn't the same as doing. He lifted the rock and focused, drawing Mana through his hand until the stone jerked against his palm and began to stretch beneath his fingers.

It lengthened with startling speed, flowing outward into a narrow shaft as one end drew itself into a vicious point. An instant later, the completed spear tore free of his hand and crossed the clearing almost too quickly for him to follow. A hard crack echoed through the trees as the stone point punched through the hardened hide and buried itself deep in the trunk, leaving only a small section of the shaft jutting outward. For several breaths, no one spoke. Grub stared at the spear. Throk reached the tree first.

He crouched beside the impact point, ran a thumb along the hole punched through the hide, then wrapped one hand around the stone shaft and pulled. It didn't move. His grin spread slowly.

"That would hurt." Kesh joined him and lifted the torn edge of the armor.

"It went clean through."

"And deep into the tree," Grub said. Dravak studied the damage.

"Good." Grub barely heard him. His attention remained fixed on the spear embedded in the trunk. It was still stone.

"Throk, Kesh, step back." Throk looked over his shoulder.

"Why?"

"I want to see if Stone Fragmentation still works on it." That wiped the grin from Throk's face. He released the shaft and moved away from the tree without argument. Kesh followed, and Dravak shifted farther to one side. Once they were clear, Grub focused on the buried spear and reached for Stone Fragmentation. The Spell caught immediately, and the entire shaft exploded inside the trunk. Wood cracked violently as shards tore outward through bark and hide.

Fragments hammered into the ground and surrounding trees, several pieces hissing through the air before disappearing into the brush. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Throk looked at the fresh gouges in the ground near where he had been standing, then slowly turned toward Grub.

"Good warning."

"You're welcome." Kesh approached the tree. A jagged cavity had been torn through the trunk around the impact point, and the hardened hide now hung from it in shredded strips. Throk came up beside her and stared at the damage.

"That would hurt considerably more." Grub joined them, studying what remained of the target. The fragments had spread farther than he would have liked, and triggering Stone Fragmentation after Stone Spear meant paying Mana for both Spells, but neither problem mattered much if the first attack buried itself inside whoever he was fighting. Kesh seemed to reach the same conclusion.

"If you hit their Chief," she said quietly, "you can trigger the second Spell inside him."

"That's the idea."

"And if you miss?" Throk asked.

"I cast again." Throk snorted.

"Assuming he gives you time." Grub looked toward him.

"That's why you've spent the last two weeks knocking me over." Throk laughed once.

"So you were paying attention." Dravak had remained beside the tree, examining the ruined hide and the cavity torn through the trunk. After a moment, he turned toward Grub.

"The Spell is strong enough." Grub nodded. Dravak jerked his chin toward Throk and Kesh.

"Now you learn to land it while someone is trying to kill you." Throk's grin returned immediately. Grub sighed.

"Keep training him," Dravak said. Kesh nodded, while Throk looked entirely too pleased with the order. Dravak glanced once more at the shattered target before giving Grub a final look and heading back toward the cavern.

"If you can do that, the duel stands." The following day passed beneath a growing sense that the Ironfang were nearly finished waiting. Grub moved through the usual work with the rest of the tribe, but most of what mattered had already been done. Two weeks of preparation had filled sacks with dried herbs and bandages, stacked travel rations beside the stores, repaired weapons, gathered firewood, and laid out everything the tribe expected to carry east.

At the rear of the cavern, the two new cages stood finished beside the old slave pen. They looked different from the first cage in ways Grub couldn't have designed himself. The Builders had let their new instincts guide the work. Posts had been shifted when their spacing felt wrong, braces added where the structure seemed weak, and one entire door had been torn apart and rebuilt after none of the four could explain why they disliked it. The result was ugly, heavy, and extremely solid.

One Builder leaned against the nearest cage and gave the frame an experimental shove.

"Better than the old one," Grub said as he approached. The Builder grunted.

"Old one feels wrong now." Grub smiled faintly.

"I know what you mean." He left the Builders to their work and headed toward the cave mouth, stepping outside into the cold afternoon air. The Fangs of Winter were finishing their own preparations in the clearing. Rika had spent much of the last two weeks turning the newly named unit into something increasingly dangerous.

The Riders still practiced mounting at speed, javelins still missed more often than Rika liked, and archery from wolfback remained an excellent way to put arrows almost anywhere except the intended target. But they were improving. They had also added a less impressive form of training. Packs. Several days earlier, Grub had pointed out that eleven direwolves walking beside the tribe represented an enormous amount of unused carrying strength. Rika had objected that they were war beasts, not pack animals.

Then she'd looked at the bundles the Warriors would otherwise have to carry. She'd conceded the point quickly. Now Ashpaw trotted past Grub with two weighted bundles strapped across his back behind Rika. The great black wolf looked deeply offended by the indignity. Grub watched him pass and couldn't help the small smile on his face.

"He still hates it." Rika glanced at her mount.

"He'll survive." Ashpaw's ears flicked backward. Rika just laughed and scratched him between his ears. Behind her, the other Riders moved through the clearing with similarly loaded wolves. Some of the animals still twisted or snapped at unfamiliar straps, but most had stopped caring once they realized the bundles neither attacked nor tasted interesting.

"How does everything else look?" Grub asked. Rika's attention returned to her Riders and winced slightly.

"Better."

"That sounded painful."

"We still miss too much."

"You have time." Rika looked toward him.

"For the Duskroot, you don't need to hit anything," Grub continued.

"You need the wolves running around the hollow making enough noise that nobody wants to test whether there's a gap." Her expression eased slightly, and she gave a small nod.

"And after that?"

"Keep practicing until you stop putting arrows into innocent trees." Rika gave him a flat look. Grub smiled. After a moment, she did too. By evening, there was almost nothing left to prepare. Dravak called the tribe together around the central fire, waiting until the last conversations had faded before rising from his stone seat.

"Enough waiting," he said.

"We leave at first light." The cavern answered with a growl of approval.

"The Builders stay. Four Warriors stay with them." Dravak swept his gaze across the gathering.

"Someone needs to make sure we still have a home when we come back." Grub glanced toward the females gathered near one of the hearths, several with swollen bellies visible beneath loose layers of fur.

"One more thing." Dravak looked toward him.

"What?"

"The pregnant females should stay too." A few heads turned.

"We can still fight," one of them said darkly.

"I know." Grub met her stare.

"But if something happens to you, the tribe loses more than one goblin." She didn't look pleased by the argument. Dravak considered it only briefly.

"He's right. You stay." The female muttered something Grub couldn't hear. Dravak ignored it and looked across the rest of the tribe.

"Everyone else marches east." Spear shafts struck stone as cheers rose around the fire. The Chief let the noise build before his iron-capped teeth showed.

"Tonight, eat. Drink. Sleep." His grin widened.

"Tomorrow, we hunt." That was all the encouragement the tribe needed. Fresh meat soon crowded the fires, and before long the three barrels of Thornbrew were dragged out from where they had spent the winter aging. Throk appeared almost immediately as Grub pulled the covering from the first.

"Well?" Grub glanced at him.

"Now they're ready." Throk grinned. Grub dipped a cup into the barrel and took a careful drink. The extra weeks had treated it well. Blackthorn bitterness still lingered beneath the flavor, and warmth spread down his throat with the first swallow, but the harsher edge had mellowed enough for the honey and berries to come through properly. He took another drink, then handed the cup to Throk. That was apparently all the approval the tribe required.

Within moments, goblins crowded around all three barrels, cups disappearing beneath the dark liquid almost as quickly as they could be filled. The cavern grew steadily louder as the evening wore on, with Warriors trading increasingly unreliable stories, Hunters arguing over old kills, and the Fangs of Winter packed together near their wolves while they talked over one another about the march ahead. Grub drank with them.

Not enough to lose track of the evening, but enough that the fire felt warmer than it should have and Throk became considerably funnier than Grub was willing to admit aloud. At some point, someone shoved another cup into his hand. Grub drank that too. Tomorrow wasn't the battle. They still had a journey east ahead of them, and after two weeks of preparation, he decided one evening of enjoying himself probably wouldn't destroy the entire plan. So he stayed near the fire and drank.

From where he sat, he could see one of the Builders arguing with a Hunter about where someone had left a bundle of tools. A Medic was wrapping a shallow cut on another goblin's hand while complaining that he should have known better. Rika sat surrounded by the other Riders, answering one question while two more were thrown at her, and several direwolves slept nearby without anyone paying them much attention. Grub took another drink and smiled faintly. Months ago, almost none of this had existed.

Now it looked ordinary. That pleased him more than he expected. The fires had burned low by the time Grub finally slipped outside. The cold helped clear some of the pleasant fog from his head as he walked beyond the wall until the remaining voices faded behind him. He stopped near the battered tree they had used earlier and drew a stone from his pouch. He probably should have gone to sleep. Instead, he lifted the stone.

Mana flowed through his hand, stretching the rock into a narrow shaft before Stone Spear tore away into the darkness and struck the trunk with a heavy crack. A little left of where he'd aimed. Grub frowned. Maybe the Thornbrew hadn't completely worn off. He drew another stone. The second struck closer to where he wanted it, and the third closer still.

He kept going until his Mana had fallen low enough that continuing seemed pointless, then stood quietly beneath the trees and looked at the stone spears jutting from the battered trunk. Tomorrow, the Ironfang would march on a plan he'd helped create. Whether the Duskroot Chief accepted the wager was beyond his control, and so was what happened afterward if the captives refused to respond the way Grub hoped. Landing Stone Spear wasn't. That, at least, he could keep practicing. Grub turned back toward the cavern.

Inside, most of the tribe had already begun settling into their furs. He found his own place, lay down, and closed his eyes while the last traces of Thornbrew warmth still lingered pleasantly in his chest. Outside, meltwater dripped steadily through the darkness. By dawn, the Ironfang would be moving east.