Following my ramshackle group of refugees through the forest wore on my patience. A hundred people, no matter who they are, cannot keep up the same kind of pace as a single person. That goes double for a group that stretches across the entire range of human life and ability level. The goblins could have left the humans far behind, of course, as they didn't need to worry about the inconveniences of childhood, disability, illness, or age. Still, adding faster members to a group does not make it faster; an army marches at the speed of the slowest soldier. Our slowest soldiers were walking with crutches. Through the snow. Even wearing chain mail and carrying all my worldly possessions and some of Digby's, the pace was a breeze for me.

  With nothing else to occupy me, I turned to worrying. The Seelie seemed determined to destroy this group of goblins, as well as the humans they were hiding among. I had only seen direct evidence of a single Seelie Fae working on that project, but that one had been able to easily manipulate the leadership of Rocky Shore into serving it. According to Digby, they had even orchestrated the raid that had devastated this community barely a week earlier. Acting through human agents seemed to be their normal modus operandi, and what that strategy lacked in reliability, it made up for in efficiency. Humans are so greedy and so gullible. It is always going to be easier and cheaper to ram us against each other than to attack us directly. I knew that the Seelie would try again. It was just a question of how they would go about it this time.

  So I walked up and down the slowly advancing column of refugees, watching the forest for signs of attack. The former citizens of Dogberry Lane were just as wary of the thick woods. The fear in the air was almost palpable. They had been told all their lives that these woods were crawling with monsters. I had only spent a day running through the forest well to the west of here, so I can confirm that this is indeed, if not a reality, at least a valid perspective.

  Gerald led us along the edge of a set of cliffs that overlooked the sea. I had never heard anyone give a specific name to the sea. I guessed that if they found another one, they'd have to name this one. The beach was narrow in places, even at low tide, which made it completely unsuitable for our purposes. The cliffside wasn't much better, though. Every boulder, fallen tree, and rock pile slowed our already glacial progress. After a solid day of travel, Rocky Shore finally vanished from our view. I wouldn't miss it, but my fellow humans certainly would. A home is a home, and we were all homeless now.

  Down on the beach, I spotted a set of tracks that had been laid were the tide could not reach them. Brit was still ahead of us somewhere. I wanted to run ahead of the group and make sure she had reached the Unseelie mound safely, but I was the best warrior this group could boast, and leaving them behind when they were so frightened already would demoralize them too much.

  Hardly anyone spoke to me directly. One problem with wielding a mace as my primary weapon is that it makes such a mess. I hadn't looked at myself in a mirror in quite some time, but I guessed that I looked a fright. Everyone avoided looking at me. Although I had fought alongside them, I was still only a stranger to them. They were glad I was here, perhaps, but they wished someone more familiar was here instead. Nearly every family had lost a loved one in the time since I arrived in Rocky Shore. I couldn't blame them if they saw me as a harbinger of doom. While scouting around the perimeter of the procession, I would sometimes catch someone suddenly look away just as I turned my head.

  I did what I could to keep the column moving. I was occasionally called to the front to help push a log or a large rock out of our path. With so many people, an obstacle that would only slightly inconvenience one person can cost precious minutes.

  I was grateful for my Ice Walker specialization now. I could tell that not everyone had adequate clothing for the weather. I passed out the blankets I had brought to a few parents with small children. They accepted them and nodded politely, although they seemed suspicious of them. Digby had sewn them together from random rags and stored them in his disgusting storeroom, so of course they were ugly and smelly. It would never be enough though. I began to wonder if our chances back at Rocky Shore weren't actually better than our chances out here. This journey had a short maximum range. If we had to travel for more than a few days, we would start losing people, morale would break down, and then our real troubles would start. I wondered if the Unseelie Queen would be willing or able to help us, and what she might demand in return.

  Late in the evening, we happened upon a small stream that ran out of the woods and down the beach, so Gerald called for us to make camp for the night. I was tired and cold myself, but considering my enhanced constitution, I had to assume that everyone else felt worse. I took the lead on gathering firewood and building fires. We soon had eight fires of varying sizes burning. I built a small one of my own, not really expecting anyone to join me. To my surprise, Statler, Sigmund, and Gertrude sat down with me, offering me a bowl of the mushroom porridge that was our only food that night.

  “Thank you.” I said as I took the bowl. It was pretty bland, but they had added a splash of sea water for flavor.

  “No problem. You have been working hard today.” said Sigmund. He was smiling warmly, but I could tell he was near exhaustion already. Gertrude and Statler were doing their best to imitate him in this, but I could tell they were faking. Its not easy to pretend that you are pretending. Sigmund had a layer of forced cheer over his actual fatigue, while they both had a layer of forced fatigue over their actual cheer. To them, this was all just another adventure. I wondering briefly if I was closer to them than to him.

  “Raymond?” said Sigmund, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  I frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem unhappy.” he said.

  I blinked. “Is there someone around here who seems happy?” I asked.

  He forced a bitter chuckle. “I guess not, but you seem especially unhappy. You work like you are trying to punish yourself. I saw you give those blankets away earlier. I notice you don't have one of your own. You are burdened with something, I can tell.”

  Damn. I need to remember that I'm not the only one around with an Insight skill. I took another long sip of the soup before answering him. It gave me time to get my thoughts in order.

  “Have you ever killed someone?” I asked. He shook his head. He wasn't surprised that I had. There were still flakes of dry blood on my clothes and beard right now, and I was resting on the shield that he had picked up from the battlefield for me.

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  “Until recently, neither had I. But since I got this mace, I've killed at least a dozen, maybe more. I can't even remember how many. I didn't think it would affect me like this.”

  He nodded. Statler and Gertrude were doing their best to look sympathetic. To them, guilt was something that happened to other people.

  “Do you wish you hadn't done it?” he asked.

  I thought about it. “Maybe. I felt like it was necessary at the time. Maybe it was. I just wonder if I could have found another way if I hadn't had a mace in my hand.”

  “You might be dead now if you hadn't.” he said. He was talking about the raid. “My wife too.”

  “I know that. It still doesn't feel good. I don't think I...” I stopped myself. That wasn't quite right. “I wonder if I'll get used to it.”

  “Would that be so terrible?” asked Statler. His facade of sympathy had slipped for a moment. Sigmund gave him a sidelong glance.

  “Yes.” I answered. “The first time I killed someone, it hurt in ways I wasn't expecting. It's already become so easy. I wonder if I'll just keep causing more pain and death. And eventually, it won't hurt me anymore, and then I'll know that part of me is dead.”

  Part of me was surprised to hear this, even from my own mouth. It was as though someone else had spoken. Still, as soon as I said it, I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Sigmund did not reply, to his credit. I was afraid he would say something like “I'm sure that won't happen” or”I believe in you”, or some other hollow platitude. He said none of these things, he only nodded his acknowledgment, and that was enough. I knew I had been heard.

  I finished the porridge and returned the bowl. I was still hungry, but I was hardly unique on that score. I leaned back and looked up at the sky. It was overcast, but there were a few stars peaking through the haze. I lay and listened to the wind in the trees, the crackling of the fires, the murmurs of conversation nearby, and the ever-present sound of waves crashing on the beach below. For a moment, I was truly at peace.

  Statler reached toward me, proffering a small clay jug. He grinned, displaying nearly half of his original teeth.

  “Water?” I asked.

  Statler snorted derisively. “Vodka.”

  I knew that this was purely an attempt to get on my good side. It worked anyway. “Thank you.” I took a small drink and passed the jug around. Sigmund did the same, and passed it to Gertrude.

  “Uh...” I started.

  Sigmund looked at me, curious. I had to stifle my ingrained cultural response. Sigmund had probably never heard of fetal alcohol syndrome, and anyway neither Gertrude nor her unborn child were human, and I had no idea what effect, if any, alcohol might have on a goblin pregnancy.

  “Just...thanks for listening.” I finished lamely. Gertrude took a bigger swig than either of us, and passed the jug back to Statler.

  I don't remember saying goodnight to anyone. I pulled off my chain-mail, wrapped myself In my bedroll and was gone almost immediately.

  I awoke to the sound of screaming. The sun wasn't up, but the fires had died down, so I struggled to adjust my vision. People were running around in the dim firelight.

  “Rally to me!” I heard Gerald bark at the crowd of confused, tired people. “Don't go near it! We can frighten it away!”

  I felt around for my mace when I heard the word “it”. Leaving my other belongings on the ground, I grabbed my shield and looked around for the source of the commotion. Judging by the scattering crowd, the danger was coming from the beach. I stood near the central fire, peering through the darkness. I spotted movement near the cliff's edge. I couldn't make sense of the vague silhouette until the thing raised its claws and let out a series of resounding snaps.

  It was some kind of gigantic crustacean, about six feet in length and about twice my size overall. It had segmented armor covering its back and tail, a set of four black grapefruits on stalks for eyes, and two sets of lobster-like claws, which it waved menacingly in an intimidation display. It was advancing toward the middle of our camp on a dozen little legs, claws snapping in every direction. From the sound, I judged that the claws were powerful enough to easily sever human bone. I regretted that I had no time to put on armor, but I doubted that it would have been a good defense anyway.

  The other travelers worked frantically to clear the camp, carrying those who could not move fast enough away from the intruder.

  “I need ranged weapons! Anything that can hit it from afar! Now!” called Gerald. He made an example by throwing a hefty spear at the monster, which glanced off its thick carapace and slid across its back. Around me, a few brave souls began pelting the thing with rocks, branches, and even some cookware. Nothing seemed to do any real damage, but the monster hissed as though angered. It marched forward suddenly, faster than I expected, and I ran around the fire to avoid it. It was in the camp now, illuminated, but it seemed totally unconcerned about how badly outnumbered it was. It began circling the fire, and I realized that I was now the closest one to it. Its claws reached toward me, and I kept circling the main fire, trying to keep out of reach. I could tell that its claws could snap with whip-crack speed, making my Combat Prescience almost useless as a defense. My only chance was to distract it while someone else attacked its tail from behind. Using my mace, I began to sweeping the hot coals from the fire towards it, hoping to blind it. I really wished that this thing had attacked earlier in the night when I had more fire to work with. A poorly-aimed stone bounced off my ribs, leaving a painful welt.

  I could see that I was at a disadvantage here. As we danced around the low fire, I could see that the creature's movements were too quick and too erratic for me to avoid for long. Eventually, I would put a foot wrong and be dismembered in seconds by those claws. My shield was just slowing me down. So, I pulled a Captain America.

  I didn't manage to seriously damage the eyes, but it did distract it just long enough for me to run around it to the side nearest the cliff. It couldn't turn easily on its little arthropod legs; it was built for stability rather than agility. I focused on controlling my breathing and keeping my stance as loose as possible. It was a crustacean after all, and would need to return to the water eventually just to breath. A more intelligent creature would have done so as soon as the alarm was raised and the possibility of a quick sneak attack was gone.

  It trundled itself around to face me, and I made sideways jumps to avoid it. As long as I didn't try to attack, I could keep avoiding it by superior mobility. I jumped back and forth across its attack zone, denying it a solid target to lock onto.

  Now that it was facing away from the crowd, the other defenders became bolder. I saw Statler, Gerald, and another man I didn't know rush forward and start menacing the monster's tail with three spears. From that angle, the spears could slip between the armor plates and into the creature's soft flesh. The creature hissed angrily and rounded on them. Seeing my opportunity, I darted forward and struck with my mace. Instead of aiming for the back, I instead smashed the small legs on the right side. My mace tore through one leg and cracked the hard sheath of another. The monster immediately turned to attack me as well, but now our group had a successful rhythm to work with. Gerald shouted directions. This would have been a mistake against any enemy that could understand our language, but in this case it worked brilliantly.

  “Stab!”

  “Fall Back!”

  “Stab!”

   "Back!”

  The monster was trapped. It's vital areas were untouched, but every mace-blow and spear thrust was costing it more of its clear, gooey blood, and with more and more legs crippled, its ability to maneuver was only getting worse. Soon, the frantic motions of its deadly claws began to slow. Gerald moved in behind it, and with a one last battle-cry he impaled its thick body to the ground like a butterfly to a card. It lay twitching on the snowy earth.

  We stood panting for a while over our kill. Even as close as the thing had come to killing me, I'd rather fight this thing than kill a human being any day. Now that it was sitting still, I could examine the creature properly. It's general body plan was somewhere between a lobster and mantis shrimp.

  “Any idea what this thing is?” I asked finally.

  Gerald favored me with a manic grin. “Yeah! Breakfast!”