The Ring of Winter

"Either will do," Byrt said. "I'm actually quite easy to get along with, you know."

Artus smiled and patted the wombat on the head. When he looked around, the explorer found that Lugg had trundled ahead before he could be treated to the same.

"This happened only a short time ago," Kaverin noted flatly. He wiped the grime from his hands, stared at the pile of rock and earth blocking the tu

"No one else alive in tu

The goblin general was failing miserably at keeping his rage under control. Upon the discovery of the paper-choked god, Queen M'bobo had intimated it was somehow Balt's impiety that had caused this disastrous turn of events. It was now Balt's task to bring Artus back to the village for punishment. Only in that way would the spirit of Grumog be appeased. If he failed, the general would be the premiere sacrifice to the next god they found.

"The tu

At the gesture from Kaverin, the silver-ski

"Let's leave my manservant to his task," Kaverin said. "Besides, I think it's time I interviewed your village elder."

They walked back to a wide spot in the tu

This left one lone Batiri, snoring loudly as he slept against a large barrel of water. When Kaverin shook him, the old goblin snorted awake and looked up at the human. His old eyes were bluish white, and his toothless mouth worked continually, like a cow chewing its cud.

From the way the goblin stared at him, Kaverin was certain he was being sized up as a potential meal. "The queen sent you here so we could talk," he said curtly. "I need to know about any human cities nearby."

The goblin nodded and said, "Old stories about great Tabaxi village, about Mezro, eh?" He chuckled. "Bring lots of food here, Mezro. Lots of humans try to find it. Batiri find them first."

Kaverin leaned forward. "Yes, Mezro." The word had a magical quality coming from his thin lips, like the name of a long-cherished lover. That fabled city, lost to modern man, had drawn Theron Silvermace to Chult. Perhaps the mysterious natives who had aided Rayburton in saving him from the Batiri had come from there. A magical city would be a fitting hiding place for the old explorer and the Ring of Winter. "Is it near here?"

Again the old goblin chuckled. "No one seen Mezro, not since long time." The lids of his eyes drooped. "They hide it years and years ago so Batiri not eat them. Only witch doctor… T'fima… only he know Mezro…" Then the goblin was asleep again, dreaming of the various explorers that had crossed his plate because of the lost city.

Kaverin let the doddering creature sleep. Taking a cup of water from the barrel, he considered the old goblin's revelation, then walked slowly to Balt's side. "Do you know of a Tabaxi sorcerer named T'fima?" he asked. Neither his voice nor his eyes betrayed his excitement.

The goblin general blanched. "We not bother Ras T'fima. He too powerful for us."

"I doubt that very much, Balt." Kaverin smiled wickedly. "But I don't think we need disturb him, just watch his camp. If your elder is correct, and this Ras T'fima knows where Mezro is hidden, he may just lead us right to it."

Artus and the wombats moved on at a steady pace, but as Byrt had anticipated, the trek to the first opening lasted quite a long time. Luckily, fresh water pooled in many places along the way-often clean and clear-so they could satisfy their thirst. Food was another matter. By the time they had traveled for a few hours, the wombats were almost as hungry as the human. The dried beef was long gone; dusty though it was, to Artus it had tasted like the best venison served in Suzail. Still, the meager portion had done nothing to curb the ache in his stomach.

"The first edible thing we see is doomed," Byrt said as they came to the side tu

The main path continued on, wide and straight, but they didn't give it a second look as they hurried up the sloping spur. Gray light bled sullenly through the leaves and vines covering the jagged crack that served as entrance to the tu

Byrt tried to muscle past, but a well-placed leg stopped him dead. "See here," he began. "I only-"

"Quiet," Artus hissed. He let the leaves fall back over the opening. "There are a dozen goblins moving through the underbrush out there, a hunting party of some kind. Back into the tu

After a quick and quiet descent to the main tu

"No, no," Byrt said, swallowing the mouthful of leaves he had bitten. "There are Batiri all over the jungle, like sand fleas at a beach or civil servants at a cheap pub. It's said among the locals that you can't fall out of a tree without landing on a goblin…"

The weight of exhaustion pushed down on Artus, a feeling compounded by the drain of hunger, "I hate to say this, since I'm almost ready to eat the next beetle that crawls across the floor, but we'd better keep moving. The sun is coming up, so the goblins will be looking for a hiding place. They might stumble across this cave." He shuffled a few steps down the tu

Artus thought only about food as he trudged along. At least, that was all that occupied his thoughts until they came upon a stretch of tu

Confusion began to tug at the corners of Artus's mind, and his thoughts turned to his plight. The explorer pictured himself lost beneath the surface of Chult, in a maze of tu