“Damn it!” Kevin screamed. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

He vaulted a barrel, leaping over the goblins and shooting an arrow through the torch lighter’s head. Topher and Jenn were close behind, making short work of the other two.

“Jenn! Do you have Create Water memorized?” Kevin shook his head. “No, that’s not… We need—“

An eruption of wails came from the tent.

“We need to get them out!” cried Jenn. “If they panic, hundreds could die!”

“Guys!” Topher yelled. “We still have goblins to take care of here! Kevin, Message the teens to save people, but we’ve got our own problems!” Two arrows shot past him as he spoke, sailing straight into the wall of fire.

Kevin made for cover and pulled out his copper wire. “Tent’s on fire, goblins outside.”

“Understood,” was all that Linore sent back.

The canvas hadn’t started to burn through yet, but the fire had encircled the entire base of the tent. No doubt the goblins spread oil judiciously around it, thought Kevin. The screaming inside was horrible.

He had to open the tent as much as he could. There were studs hammered into the ground, keeping the canvas tight against the frame—or were the studs also used to keep the frame anchored? He didn’t know enough about the subject to risk collapsing the whole thing. “You two cover me,” said Kevin, switching to his rapier. “I’ll start cutting holes and getting people out.”

“Are you—Goblins! What part of ‘goblins are attacking’ don’t you…” Topher stopped. “Hold on, they’re retreating!”

Jenn looked out. “They are! They’re backing off!”

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*******

Reun watched every flicker of flame from his perch. He hadn’t expected any satisfaction or happiness in the sight, and was given none. This was only one step. The tunnel was much farther still.

“Success,” he called down to the rest of his warriors below. “Be ready.”

Twenty goblins cheered, their frenzied yelping breaking the silence of the forest. Reun began climbing down his tree, the muscles in his back and arms rippling in concerted motion as he navigated the branches.

Thrip was there to meet him. “Congratulations,” he said.

“Why congratulate me?” Reun raised half a meaty brow. “I’ve done nothing.”

“It was your plan, wasn’t it?”

A snort. “There was no real craft involved. The idea to burn something so flammable is nothing. Don’t congratulate me for a plan a child could think of; curse yourself for lacking the mind to think of it on your own.”

Thrip knew Reun must’ve been in a very good mood if he didn’t end that speech with a fist. “We are ready,” he said. “We’ll cover their retreat with arrows.”

“Good.”

A cry came from one of the watch. “Movement!”

Reun tensed. “Where?” he called up.

“Two forests over, fast through the trees! I think they’re…” the watcher went silent.

“Think what? What are they? Surface soldiers?”

“…Warg Riders, sir.”

“Riders?” Thrip turned to Reun. “None of our sympathizers were riders. What do you think? Did Bruge convince some to help, or did Glendalka send them to drag us back?”

“Or kill us,” muttered Reun.

He closed his eyes. For a moment, he felt that he knew the world and his place in it.

“Weapons ready!” Reun spun to the others. “Prepare to charge the surfacers!”

The goblins didn’t cheer. It was a drastic change of plans, but no one would question Reun.

Except for Thrip. “Are you… Could you explain your thinking?”

Reun was too busy checking weapons to strike him. “If the riders are joining the cause, we’ll be able to skirmish and retreat with their help.”

Thrip nodded. “And if they’re out to stop us?”

“Then I’d rather die on the spears of my enemies than my people.”

“We…might not be executed if they take us back,” said Thrip.

A brief moment of silence. “Then we absolutely owe it to all goblins to let the cause die on the spears of our enemies.”

Thrip looked at his comrade. Reun was not the goblin ideal. He was physically strong. He was bold. He was always focused on something more than survival. “I suppose retreating would be pointless,” said Thrip, in half disbelief that those words could come out of any goblin’s mouth, much less his own.

“Also…” Reun began, but stopped.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s unlikely Glendalka’s minions would be swayed by any true ideals, let alone the thought of watching their brethren die by surfacers.”