Skint returned with the tankards of ale. Challa Nand took all four from him, pushed one at Farshaun, one at the Gnome, and kept the other two for himself. Railing’s face darkened further.
“You think me bold?” Challa Nand shrugged. “Let me tell you something, Railing Ohmsford. I am a big, strong man. You can see as much. I get what I want most of the time because of my size and strength. There’s not much reason for me to worry. But every now and then, something or someone comes along who, for one reason or another, is my match. Early on, I didn’t sense it the way I do now. I’ve learned to look for it, though. I’ve learned not to rely too strongly on size and strength, not to take it for granted that my physical gifts will see me through. Knowing your limitations is important in this world.”
He drank from his tankard of ale. Then he pushed the second tankard toward Railing. “I sense those limitations now, with you. You have magic, don’t you? Magic strong enough that you don’t see any real need to be afraid of me. What form does it take?”
Railing hesitated, then reached out and accepted the tankard. “It’s called a wishsong. I can use my voice to reshape and manipulate physical things. It runs in my family.”
The Troll glanced at Skint for confirmation and got a nod in reply. “Ohmsford,” he repeated, and suddenly his face changed. “Grianne Ohmsford?”
“My great-aunt.”
He nodded slowly. “The Ilse Witch. What’s going on here? Why are you making this journey?”
“You said you didn’t need to know,” Railing shot back.
“I didn’t need to then. I do now. Your name changes everything. If you want my services, you’d better tell me the truth.”
Railing and Skint exchanged glances. “Up to you,” the Tracker said to him.
Railing thought about it a moment. If Skint thought they needed this man as their guide, there wasn’t much choice. Certainly, the Troll looked able enough. Besides, if he were in the other’s shoes, he would want to know, too.
But that didn’t mean he needed to know everything.
So he told Challa Nand that they were searching for Grianne Ohmsford’s remains—that when she left the Druid order she went into the Charnals, carrying with her a powerful talisman the Druids would pay well for if it were recovered and brought to them. He told it all with a straight face, trying to avoid embellishments, knowing that reticence would serve him better in persuading the Troll to their cause. He said nothing of the collapse of the Forbidding or the threat to the Four Lands from the creatures imprisoned within. He said nothing of his brother’s imprisonment. He knew that if he did there would be no stopping, no place where he could cut it off without telling it all. A story based on the promise of money for services rendered would fly better with a man like this.
Except that when he was finished, Challa Nand just laughed, his booming voice causing heads everywhere to turn in surprise. “If even half of that is the truth, I’m a Spider Gnome’s twin!” He shook his head. “But maybe in your place I wouldn’t want to be too open about things, either. Not even to your guide—even though your guide could choose to abandon you somewhere you could never find your way out of if he became displeased.” He paused meaningfully. “So where does that leave us, huh?” He looked at Skint. “What’s my pay for this fool’s errand?”
“A hundred gold pieces and anything you find along the way that catches your fancy save what we are looking for.” The Tracker eyed him. “You get the gold now.”
“A carrot on a stick? I like you, Skint, but I know you too well to trust you. Still, the offer is a good one, even not knowing what I am letting myself in for. So. We can fly in—get through the Charnals, the Klu, the Inkrim, and right up to Stridegate. It won’t be easy and won’t be safe, but you must know that already. There are Urdas and Gnome raiders. There are worse things, too—and if they bring down your ship, that’s probably the end of us. Well, not necessarily for me, but almost certainly for you.”
“You would abandon us if that happened?” Railing demanded.
The big Troll leaned forward. “I might if you fail to tell me the truth somewhere along the way. I’ll risk myself up to a certain point, but not for people who don’t trust me. Are we clear about this?”
Railing took a deep breath and nodded. “If I tell you the truth at some point, will you stick with us to the end?”
“If I decide the truth merits it? Yes. If not, I will ask you to set down and let me off and you will be on your own. Of course, you can ride the back of that particular current as long as you choose. You are master of your own fate in this business, Railing Ohmsford, scion of the Ilse Witch. Just know that I am big and strong but not stupid.”