Pitt walked until the sun went down. He had thought the ghouls would turn around. Maybe some of them did. He didn't have an accurate count of their numbers. He felt their eyes on him as he walked along.

They would attack soon. The night time was the right time for them to go about their business. All he had to do was keep looking harmless.

He didn't have any food so it wouldn't be convincing of him to set up some kind of camp. He should pretend to sleep in the nearest tree. Either they would give things up, or try to climb the tree to get at him.

He idly considered giving them some kind of warning. If they knew he knew they were there, maybe they would turn aside and hunt easier prey. It would save their new lives in the short term in his opinion.

On the other hand, it might force their hand and make them consider attacking him instead of going back to the town. Then he would deal with the problem as well as he could.

It wouldn't be the first time gentle words didn't turn away wrath.

Pitt jumped to the lower branches of the nearest tree. He quickly scaled his way up near the top. He waited and listened. Something moved down below where he had started his climb.

He jumped to the next tree. He listened. More movement and some growls indicated they thought he was up in the branches. He didn't think they knew where he was exactly.

He heard sniffing from below. He wondered if they could smell him. It wouldn't be the first time he had dealt with hounds.

He decided to keep moving in the dark. Maybe they could see, or smell, or hear him. That didn't mean they could keep up with him.

He couldn't remember the last time he had led his enemies on a wild goose chase. He usually confronted his problems with his fist. How long could he string them along until they gave up and went home?

They might chase him the entire night. He didn't mind. The more he could get chasing him, the less likely they would attack someone else.

He jumped to the next tree and kept moving. He wondered how they would respond to insults. They might decide to keep at him out of anger. He could work with that.

Pitt landed in the next tree and paused. Growling reached up to his perch. He looked down. They were still following him. What did he want to do about it?

He took a quick head count. He could only make out fifteen pairs of glowing eyes. All of them were turned up to glare at him. Some of them had secured rocks to throw at him.

If he tried to take a nap, he knew what they would do with their ammunition. Why give them that chance?

He decided he should go down and encourage them to run. He didn't care where they ran, as long as it wasn't on the road he was on.

Pitt jumped from the tree. The ghouls made a sound of collective joy from their throats. This was easy prey dropping to his death. They would have to settle the pecking order for the parts as they went.

A fist shattering a skull convinced them they might have picked the wrong prey. Some ran from the sudden violence. They wanted to hunt others, not be hunted. The rest went at the traveler. He couldn't kill them all.

The demigod didn't give them a chance to change their minds. He rushed them, hands a blur as they delivered blow after blow in the blink of an eye. Eight bodies fell around him.

He watched as the six survivors fled into the night. They might be a menace to travelers on the road for years to come. He wasn't going to take on the responsibility of chasing them down one by one. Let the Circle do that. They had the numbers for that kind of monster hunt.

He gathered some wood and buried the dead ghouls under the branches. He created a spark with the snap of his fingers. He blew on the tiny dot until it grew into a small flame. The fire kept expanding until it touched the first ghoul. That was enough to turn the blaze into a column of smoke and flame.

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Pitt watched the pyre burn until its fuel was gone. He turned and kept walking down the road. He would find a place to sleep up ahead. When the day came on, he would worry about food and water.

He hoped he had done some good for Gumm's people. Killing those ghouls would keep them from interfering as the town tried to get the harvest in, and worked out what its new status was. The six that got away might try to use the woods around the town as a hunting ground. He doubted they would succeed.

He hoped no one spread his name around to outsiders. He didn't want to give up this name like he had the others he had carried. He would rather Gumm and the town's defenders took all the credit.

Fading away into obscurity was great since no one wanted you to do the impossible when they thought you were some scalawag that preferred to mind his own business.

That still didn't stop Montaque from ripping him from his home and sending him miles away to deal with someone else's problem. He was bound by his oath and his adopted brother had no compunction about using that against him when he wanted something done.

The main problem was the trip home. Once sent to where he was needed, he had to walk back on his own. That didn't make him a happy monster hunter.

He supposed he was the only one Montaque could grab and use like this. Most of the others might be dead as far as he knew. He had been surprised to find Neil behind the attempt to wipe out White Plains to try to grab a seat at the Gods' table.

He had thought the master magician had been killed a long time ago.

His fellow brother's scheme had been halted with the deaths of a lot of good people and very bad demons, and Neil himself. It had been a pleasure to break him and his ally in the Underworld.

And Pitt's allies thought he was dead, so he didn't have to worry about them following him across the wilderness to the Highlands. If he saw any of them again, it would be bad luck on his part.

But he doubted the Circle would send anyone to police the Highlands. The people living there took care of their own business, and everyone knew it.

That made it the perfect place for him to hide his past without having to worry about it. No one asked a man about anything as long as he kept to himself and kept trouble to the minimum.

Someone who went out of his way to be a problem usually was dealt with as harshly as any of the local monsters that might surface.

And the best part was Pitt didn't have to talk to a neighbor for months if he didn't want to because that was how the people were.

The traveler found a place he thought he could sleep for the night. The burning ghouls were far behind him. Someone might have seen the fire. He doubted anyone would check it now that it was almost out.

He made a bed of limbs against a rock. He made a blanket of limbs to cover him while he slept. He made sure to pull down trees to make a small wall around his rock. Then he dropped a couple on top of the wall so no one could see him. He crawled inside and covered himself with the top layer of branches.

It wasn't that warm, but it was cozy. Maybe his body heat would be caught inside the limbs and that would be enough for the night. Tomorrow, he would have to look for some place a little more comfortable to sleep.

He let himself fall asleep so he could dream of the mountains at the end of this road. He would have to talk to Montaque about arranging return trips if he was going to keep pulling him away from his home. All this walking was making him cranky.

He doubted the spirit understood anything but the mission which had killed him, and preventing monsters from getting the upper hand no matter the cost.

Maybe he should try to get his summoner to bring along a horse for when things were settled. That would help with the trip back home in his opinion. All he had to do was make sure the animal wasn't killed in the fight when they appeared.

Pitt walked the Highlands in his dream, touching the sky as he stood at the edge of great valleys, walked along the mountains, and watched the native goats move from crag to crag with a grace he could never copy.

Everything was right with the world for as far as he could see.

He woke inside his little fort and tried to decide if he should take a little nap before he got moving, or got moving so he could find a place he could get food from as he pressed on.

The need for food demanded that he should get back on the road despite wanting to get a little more sleep before he dug himself out of the fort. He climbed out on the rock and looked around. He was alone on the road. He should take care of his personal business and move on.

Pitt took a sighting on the sun and started walking when he was ready. If he could reach someplace with horses, he might be able to get one to ride. That would save his feet for the rest of his journey.

He doubted that would happen. His luck tended to run to horse sellers that wanted more than money for their wares.

What they usually got was a fist to the face.

Pitt whistled a little as he covered the miles. He heard wheels coming behind him. He looked back. A small caravan of wagons rolled toward him. Maybe he could get a ride with them.

He hoped they weren't bringing any trouble with them. He could do with a quiet rest of the trip home. He knew that wasn't his fate. Something was ahead and he was going to have to deal with it for the wagon train.

Should he let the wagons go by without trying to join up? He decided that it didn't matter. He would be stuck fighting whatever it was ahead. Not taking the ride would just mean he would run into it later after it wrecked the train.

He might as well enjoy himself as he headed for trouble.