Ollie sprinted through the forest, not bothering to cover his tracks or mute his steps. Time was no longer on his side.

Grika sat on Ollie’s shoulder, gripping tufts of his hair. Normally, the pygmy had no interest in being picked up, and Ollie didn’t want Grika riding him like a horse. But this was a concession they both agreed was necessary.

The forest grew denser the deeper they went, forcing Ollie to zig and zag between clumps of brush and thick grass. It also meant less moonlight sneaking through the canopy above. Pitfalls abounded beneath his feet, but a sense of urgency pushed him onward, despite the hazards.

Grika slapped at Ollie’s cheeks to get his attention. Ollie slowed and Grika pointed ahead and to the right.

“Another one,” he whispered. “That way.”

Ollie set Grika on the ground. “How close?”

“Close,” the pygmy said.

They both crept to nearby trees. Ollie set his bag down and crouched over it, keeping an eye on the forest ahead, for what little good it did. Everything was pitch black. Ollie could make out Grika’s silhouette a few yards away, but that was only because the pygmy was shifting around in his attempt to hide.

Something moved at the edge of his vision. He turned to see a white-haired fox emerge from the brush right into the only sliver of moonlight able to penetrate the thick canopy. It turned to stare at him, the reflection of the moonlight turning its dark eyes into two tiny spotlights.

Ollie stared back, a little surprised at the animal’s boldness.

The fox cocked its head at him, as if in response. One of its eyes squeezed shut, almost like a wink. It flicked its tail up and darted behind a tree. Ollie watched it go, wondering if that entire sequence had been some weird figment of his imagination.

A tiny snap of fingers shook him from his reverie, a warning from Grika that the goblin was almost here. Ollie listened for the footsteps, but they were faint. This goblin wasn’t running in their direction like the last one. This one had a slow, methodical gait. Probably patrolling around the lair.

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Ollie picked up a rock and tossed it against a nearby tree, trying to get the goblin’s attention. It didn’t work, so he tried another one, and this time he heard the footsteps scurry closer, followed by a snort. The goblin appeared suddenly, wandering right past the tree Ollie was using as cover, staring in the opposite direction. It took a few steps toward the sound of the thrown rock, its head hunched forward as it scanned the forest. Ollie raised his shotgun.

“Hey,” he whispered. The goblin spun around in surprise. It saw Ollie and hissed. “Say hi to Drauga for me.” He rammed the shotgun’s stock into the goblin’s face as hard as he could. The goblin stumbled backward, dazed, and Ollie hit him again. Then a third time. Finally, the goblin fell to the ground with a thump, unconscious.

Grika waddled up alongside him.

“You’re not gonna burn it?”

“No time.” He walked back over and grabbed his bag. “We need to get to the lair.”

Grika sniffed the air a few times. “That way.” He pointed in the same direction the fox had run off to.

After a short jog, Ollie noticed a totem hanging from a tree branch, its straight lines obvious against the dark blue sky. “Close?”

Grika nodded. “Scent’s real strong now. We’re almost there.”

“Let’s stop here.” Ollie dropped his pack and rifled through it. He grabbed a knife and slipped it into his boot. Then he took out two flares and the small plastic squirt bottle, putting all three into his coat pocket. He hefted the shotgun and crouched down in front of Grika. “Straight that way?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. Stay here with the bag. I’ll go in and check out the lair.”

“Right.” Grika nodded. “Wait. Is that your plan?”

Ollie hesitated. Grika’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You were supposed to have a plan, ya boffer! I thought that was the whole point? You’d think of one on the way, before you charge into that cesspool of idiocy!”

Ollie considered this for a moment, before deciding it didn’t matter. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yes!” Grika said. “Don’t go in there!”

“Leave Kimmie to her fate, then?”

Grika huffed in annoyance. His shoulders slumped and he looked away.

“See?” Ollie said. “You can’t leave her behind, either.”

“You don’t know that,” the pygmy grumbled.

Ollie looked around at his surroundings, racking his brain for ideas. Every once in a while, Grika made some sense. He did need a slightly better plan than charging in like a rabid mongoose. His eyes drifted upward as an idea struck him.

“You know what?” Ollie smiled in the darkness. “I just came up with a plan. A really good one.”