“If someone else is interested in what you’re doing here, I’m not surprised they hired the locals to keep an eye on you,” Gerith said. “The Talons are just the sort to take that job. They’re enterprising sorts.”
“Enterprising?” Kiris said with a laugh. “You mean scavengers. They hide near the Boneyard because they know that even the Valenar avoid the accursed place. When and if the elves invade, the Ghost Talons can be the first to loot the battlefields. I do not know what interest they have in me. They could be working for anyone.”
“Strange that halflings give you so much trouble,” Eraina said. “I’d think Marth and his followers could frighten them off for you.”
Kiris hesitated. “I have not told Marth about the Ghost Talons,” she said. “I was … concerned that he might overreact.”
“Kill them, you mean,” Eraina said. “So much for your faith in your hero.”
Below, the Talons had gathered in a small circle just at the tunnel exit. One had dismounted and was studying the grass with a practiced eye. He looked back at Koranth and mumbled something too quiet for them to hear.
“Servants of Dalan d’Cannith,” Koranth shouted in a clear voice. “I know that you can hear me; your tracks are fresh. Please reveal yourselves. We do not wish to do you harm. Chief Rossa is eager to see you return. He has dispatched his finest warriors to escort you back to the camp. Do not be afraid.”
“More hmael?” Seren asked.
Gerith nodded rapidly.
“Should we fight them?” Eraina asked. “Six enemies aren’t such terrible odds. I’ve seen worse.”
“I think you miscounted,” Gerith said. “I see twelve. Those clawfoots aren’t just ponies, Eraina.”
Koranth continued to wait in uneasy silence, the last echoes of his voice still returning over the mountains. He gestured to his riders and two of them darted off, one in each direction, searching for them.
“Incidentally, your master sends his greetings,” Koranth shouted. “He is well guarded by my loyal hunters, and will continue to be until you return safely to the Ghost Talons.”
“So now it has come to threats,” Eraina said in a low growl. “They are holding Dalan.”
“What do we do?” Seren asked.
“Honestly, we may as well surrender,” Gerith said. “They’re all hunters and this is their territory. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”
“Can’t you escape on Blizzard?” Seren asked.
“Sure,” Gerith said. “I can avoid Koranth and his amateurs forever, but Blizzard isn’t big enough to carry three humans, a warforged, and me.”
Seren knelt and dropped Kiris’s bag, hurriedly digging through its contents. She removed the pouches of spell reagents and returned them to Kiris, leaving only the books and scrolls inside.
“What are you doing, Seren?” Eraina asked.
“We came here looking for Kiris because she could help us understand Ashrem’s work,” Seren said. “Maybe the halflings, or whoever they really work for, just want to get their hands on her work too.” She handed the bag to Gerith. “Can you get these back to Tristam without being seen?”
“Of course,” Gerith said.
“Those books are mine,” Kiris protested.
“And if you let Gerith take them back to our ship, you have a chance of keeping them,” Seren said. “Koranth won’t give you an offer like that.”
Kiris only shrugged in agreement and secured her reagent pouches to her belt.
“You sure you’ll be all right?” Gerith asked, looking up at Seren in concern.
“I don’t think Koranth wants to hurt us,” Seren said. “As long as he thinks he’s in control, we’ll have time to plan. If they really have taken Dalan prisoner, I’d be surprised if he hasn’t already come up with an escape plan.”
“Good point,” Gerith said. “I hadn’t thought of that,” The halfling took the satchel and climbed onto Blizzard’s back. “Good luck to you, ladies. You too, Omax. Be safe.”
Gerith whispered something curtly to his glidewing. The creature made several agile leaps up the rock face, away from the hunters and out of their view. There was only the subtle flap of leather and a blur of motion across the sky to mark his departure. Blizzard’s pale blue underbelly perfectly camouflaged it from below.
“Are you lost?” Koranth shouted. “Are the plains so confusing? Shall I send my hunters to guide you to us?”
“No need, we’re right here,” Seren shouted back.
She stepped out of her hiding place, scaling down the rock wall carefully. Eraina, Kiris, and Omax followed. Koranth scrutinized each of them carefully, especially Omax, who stood at eye level to him even mounted on his steed. The other two roving hunters returned rapidly, their mounts moving with startling speed.
“Dusty and bruised but not wounded,” Koranth said. “Rossa will be pleased that you are in good health. Lady Overwood, I presume? We have been looking for you for a long time.”
“What do you want with me?” Kiris asked.
“That is Rossa’s business, not mine,” Koranth answered. He scanned the area briefly. “Where is your scout?”
“He fled,” Seren said. “The Boneyard terrified him.”
Koranth looked at Eraina. “Is that true, paladin?” he asked, looking at her shrewdly.
“Gerith was quite terrified of the Boneyard’s curse,” Eraina said. “He left as quickly as he dared.”
“That’s what they get for trusting a Snowshale,” said one of the other halflings. Koranth and the others laughed. Seren realized abruptly that the hunter had spoken in his native tongue, and that Tristam’s bracelet had translated the words.
“Truly a pity,” Koranth said with a smug grin. “Never fear, we shall guide you back to our camp. You’ll have to walk, unfortunately. Our steeds are notoriously intolerant of unfamiliar riders.”
Not to mention that if they tried to escape, the clawfoot riders could quickly run them down. Seren smiled at Koranth, trying not to be unnerved by the violence she detected just beneath his veneer of etiquette. Some of the other hunters were less subtle, scowling openly at her. She had the feeling that the Koranth was almost disappointed that they had chosen to surrender peacefully. The halfling gestured with his spear and moved his steed to one side, signaling for them to begin walking.
The hunters rode in a loose circle around them as they traveled back to the Ghost Talon village. In time, the sun set and the hunters struck a rough camp in the shadows of a short cliff. The halflings began cooking the evening meal and pitching tents. Seren stepped forward and offered to help but was ordered to return to the others with a gesture and a curt word that Tristam’s bracelet didn’t understand. The message was clear. Their status as “guests” was merely a convenient illusion. They were prisoners. Seren returned to sit beside Omax, Eraina, and Kiris. Koranth arrived shortly afterward, depositing a pot of steaming beans, a jug of water, tin plates, and clay cups.
“Thank you,” Kiris said in the halfling tongue.
Koranth smiled faintly. “I know that all of you are concerned by our presence here,” he said. “Please, do not be. I assure you, we have your best interests at heart. The Ghost Talons have been retained by Baron Zorlan d’Cannith, who has taken a personal interest in your adventures. All of you will be treated as guests of the Ghost Talons until the Baron’s emissaries arrive to collect you.”
“Politics,” Eraina said bitterly. “So that’s why your tribe was so interested in this place. I thought your chief just wanted his ring back? Or was that a lie too?”
“A ring?” Koranth asked. “I remember hearing nothing about a ring. Perhaps Rossa misspoke. He is an old man. He says many strange things.”
Koranth’s smug grin faded as he looked past them, to the west, his eyes narrowing in concern. Seren looked in the same direction. A faint red glow was visible on the far horizon. A plume of gray smoke curled into the night sky.
“Pian, Maern,” he said, calling to two of the other hunters. “Wait here and guard our guests. The rest of you come with me. Something is happening in the village.”