When they made it back to camp, Kleo was exhausted. Jack carried her the final ten meters to their bed and helped her remove her pants, still damp from the river crossing. He undressed and curled beside her, sharing his warmth and weariness. Dawn was breaking, but the camp remained dark; the early sun still hidden behind the low hills at their back.

  Will offered to make Rahna a comfortable sleeping place, but she chose to lie near the fire, comforted by its crackling song. When he and Maya finally lay down, they remained awake, lost in their thoughts, until he gathered the courage to hold her. She sighed, and they drifted off together.

  Will woke up a few hours later.

  Stepping from the shelter, he took a deep breath of the fresh air and made his way to the fire. The goblin bridesmaid and Bitter were gone, but two pairs of feet, visible beneath their shelter entrance, showed Jack and Kleo were still asleep.

  He tossed more wood onto the fire and sat, gazing into the flames. It was mid-morning—they would lose another day if they didn't get moving. At the Abbey, Kleo had insisted on heading south, and somehow, they had only managed half a day's ride.

  A rustling from the brush drew his attention as the goblin bridesmaid, and Bitter returned to camp. She carried a string of large fish over her shoulder while another, half-eaten, dangled by its tail from her right hand. Though Bart's lamb was tasty, fish would make for a welcome change.

  He could hear her singing to herself as she walked, her voice low, the lyrics punctuated with snarls and growls. It was a goblin song, the words indecipherable, but the rhythm drummed hard, emphasizing the upbeat.

  He smiled and withdrew his knife, signaling he would help prepare the fish. He put water on, knowing Maya and Kleo would want tea when they rose. That might not be for some time, but he would have a cup and offer one to Rahna.

  As she placed the fish over the fire, he noticed a pendant hanging from a delicate silver chain around her neck. A large ruby sat at its center, mounted in a silver disc with runes etched along the edges. Through his travels, he had learned the written language of modern goblins. Though she was a forest goblin with distinct customs and speech, the written language shared common roots across goblin cultures—he would likely be able to interpret the runes.

  "That's a beautiful necklace."

  She looked down and lifted the pendant, studying it.

  "It was a gift from my mother. Her mother gave it to her, and so on." She turned it over, showing him the back.

  On the back was an image of King Ragnar striking a serious, regal pose. Though worn with time, the details remained sharp. Will had seen this exact image before as a drawing in a book, but that volume had been lost or sold during his travels.

  "King Ragnar. I've seen that exact portrait in a book."

  She gave him a quizzical look but nodded.

  She tucked the pendant back into her shirt. "He was my ancestor—a great-grand goblin. I am a goblin Queen, and this necklace is my birthright. One day, I will rule the southern forest with my king."

  Will gave a slight bow. “Your majesty.”

  Rahna seemed to smile at this, making an odd snicking sound as she resumed the preparations.

  "Kleo and Jack are heading south toward the southern forest. She thinks we should introduce you to a Woog chieftain—his village lies on the edge of the woods. He would make a strong ally."

  "Perhaps. But before I return south, I have a task to complete. My people are scattered between the river and far hills to the south and west. I must inspire them to follow me back to our homeland. Without followers, I am not a queen. Without a king—"

  Rahna stopped, looking a little embarrassed. “Kleo recommends sex. Highly Recommends. I just need to find the right goblin.”

  Will held his composure, something he considered a monumental achievement.

  “That… sounds like Kleo,” he finally said.

  Rahna stood, gazing toward the river. "Enjoy the fish. I'll return—assuming I don’t die."

  Will chuckled, uncertain whether to take her words in jest.

  Rahna departed with Bitter at her heels. Will waved before returning to the fire, where the aroma of cooking fish made his stomach growl. As he prepared his tea, he pondered what arrangements Kleo had made with the little goblin. He'd ask her when she woke—she needed the extra rest if what he and Maya suspected was true.

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  At the river, Rahna grabbed a fistful of Bitter's fur and hauled herself onto his back. She had always known him as Susi—an ancient word for wolf—the name she'd given him when he was no more than a pup, the largest and fiercest of his litter.

  The corruption had changed them both. After the Dark Witch's bonds were broken, they returned to a familiar world that felt entirely foreign. What had once been straightforward—choosing a mate who would be king, then ascending to queen when her mother stepped down—was now a path she would have to forge.

  She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and the great wolf plunged into the water, carrying her to the opposite bank. As they climbed the western slope, they halted. A rider approached from the north—a figure with a human appearance, though a long gray coat and cowl obscured his form. He rode hard, urging his horse forward with sharp snaps of the reins and fierce kicks of his heels.

  It was best to avoid the human, so they moved into the woods, skirting the goblin's body still lying on the bank—a victim of Kleo’s demonic form. Kleo was strange by any goblin standard, but there was something about her she liked. That was an odd thought. Liking a human.

  The woman had saved her no less than three times. First, from the corruption, then from capture by the goblin patrol, and yesterday, held prisoner in the goblin camp. She would not have eluded the first patrol if Kleo and Jack had not encountered them in the woods. She knew this because she had been easy prey for the next patrol as she tried to make her way down the western edge of the river. She had been deeply moved when Kleo returned her pendant and royal signet. Not once had the human asked for anything in return. That was the strangest thing of all.

  Today was a game of heads—she would collect three. First would be the clan lord who had imprisoned her. He had planned to trade her to Volgar the Spider for political gain. Volgar and his Spider clan represented everything cruel and despicable in goblin society. She would take the clan lord's head and leave his manhood in his mouth—not as a message, but simply because she refused to touch it. Then she would claim Volgar's head next. Susi would see to that.

  Then, they would continue south to where Roon had gathered a large following of goblins and built an army capable of standing against Volgar and the Spider clan. Though ambitious, Roon was growing old. Kleo's words echoed in her mind—choose the right goblin. That choice would make all the difference. And Roon was not the right goblin. But perhaps his son was?

  Though he had served honorably during her mother's reign, Roon could not be trusted. This was his chance at power, and he would not surrender it easily. If she rejected him, he would have her killed.

  No. She would take his head.

  His clan would cheer at the news—Volgar the Spider dead, Queen Rahna returned. They would expect Roon to be king.

  No. His head would be the third.

  All who watched would be stunned. The moment he extended his welcoming hand would be his last.

  Queen Rahna would reclaim the ancestral lands of the southern forest, and she alone would choose her king.

  Her people would bow and follow—this, she knew.

  When Kleo woke, she lay still, savoring the warmth of Jack nestled against her. His soft, steady breaths brushed her cheek, grounding her in the moment's perfection. She didn’t want it to end. Today, they would head south, and anticipation buzzed within her. Something waited for her on this journey—something that promised answers.

  As she lay entwined with Jack, a sudden tension in the camp pulled her focus. She heard Will unsheathe his blade, the sound sharp and deliberate, followed by the soft scrape of metal as he sheathed it again.

  Then she heard his voice. "Rugr."

  Her heart leaped. Rugr? Here?

  Scrambling upright, she shoved Jack to the side and grabbed the blanket to cover herself. Jack, startled, grunted as he hit the bedding, utterly exposed, while Kleo bolted from the tent.

  Rugr stood at the edge of the camp, looking weary but no less imposing. Rugr’s presence always filled the space around him, but now it carried a weariness she hadn’t expected. He looked older, the weight of travel etched in the lines of his face.

  Without hesitation, she ran to him, launching herself into his arms. Her momentum made the formidable man stagger, his boots scuffing the ground as he caught her.

  “Whoa, girl! You nearly toppled me,” Rugr said, his voice betraying the exhaustion beneath.

  She pulled back to look at him, tears streaming freely. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve missed you so much. I have so much to tell you!”

  Rugr tried to set her down, but she clung to him tightly, her words spilling out in a rush that left him reeling.

  From behind her, Jack stumbled out of the tent, hair disheveled, groggy, and struggling to pull his pants on. He blinked at Rugr, recognition dawning. “Oh—it’s you.”

  Rugr’s sharp gaze took in Jack’s state and Kleo’s hastily wrapped blanket. The implication was impossible to miss. His brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

  Kleo, realizing Jack’s predicament, whirled around, standing between him and Rugr as though shielding them both. “You’re not here to kill him, are you? He hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

  Rugr raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he turned to Kleo. “You told him?”

  She blushed, her gaze darting to the ground. “He needed to know,” she admitted. “I… might have spilled my guts. And…” She hesitated, her voice softening. “We performed a binding ritual.”

  For the first time in years, Rugr’s stoic mask cracked. His brows shot up, his mouth slightly agape. “You… what?”

  “It was the right thing to do,” she said quickly, her words tumbling over themselves. “I love him, Rugr. And he’s… he’s everything.”

  Rugr’s expression shifted from shock to something unreadable. He glanced at Jack, his eyes narrowing. “I hope he’s deserving. If not…” A sly smile crept onto his face. “We’ll have to go with the original plan.”

  Kleo gasped. “Not funny!” She punctuated the words with a punch to his shoulder, the force causing the blanket to slip from her grasp and pool at her feet.

  Rugr groaned, rubbing his temple. “Good gods, Kleo. Put some clothes on. We’ll talk when you’re dressed.”

  She turned toward the tent with a playful huff, leaving the blanket behind. Her exaggerated sway as she walked was deliberate—a teasing act of defiance.

  Rugr watched her retreat, then turned to Will with a look of exasperation.

  “Is this what you’ve had to put up with?”

  Will nodded solemnly.

  “Every day. And let me tell you, it’s going to cost you extra.”