Ava then felt the ring with her fingers. The shank was heavy; the ruby was large, with many facets. She could feel the ring’s power radiating into her hand.
“We have to keep this safe,” she said, slipping it into a pocket inside her bag. Ava was exhausted from her ordeal and felt as if she could fall asleep right where she was, sitting on top of a cold hard rock. But she couldn’t allow herself to rest. Not yet. Only part of her task was complete. She’d secured the ring, yes, but now she had to get it to Sera, and it was a long way from the Mississippi River to the North Sea.
Groaning with fatigue, she rose. “Come on, Baby,” she said. “Let’s see if we can find Amos’s house again. We’re going to need food to get us through the next few days. Maybe he has some nice juicy swamp leeches to sell us, or some alligator eggs.”
As Ava and Baby put distance between themselves and the Spiderlair, Ava’s weariness disappeared, and her spirits lifted.
We did it! she thought. We actually got the ring. Ava allowed herself to feel proud of her accomplishment. This was the reason the gods had taken her sight. They’d done it so she could go into the swamps and best the Okwa Naholo. Had she not been blind, she never would have survived them.
Ava and Baby didn’t have far to swim before they found themselves back at Amos’s. Baby saw the shack, took hold of Ava’s unripped sleeve, and pulled her toward it.
Ava was glad. “Maybe Amos will let us spend the night here,” she said. “Then we could get a fresh start in the morning.” The idea of a warm waterfire, a soft bed, and a good night’s sleep was very appealing.
Ava misjudged the location of the porch and bumped into the decking. She righted herself, then felt for the door.
“Amos?” she called out, pushing it open. The rusty hinges squeaked loudly. Amos had told her to go right on inside if she ever came calling again. I’m always out workin’ in the back. Can’t hear ya knockin’, he’d said.
“Amos?” Ava called again, swimming inside the tiny shack.
Baby growled low in his throat, then launched into a volley of barking.
“Baby? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Ava heard a sharp yip of pain. And then nothing.
“Baby?” she called out, alarmed. “Baby? Amos, are you there? What’s happening?”
“Amos isn’t here, I’m afraid,” said a voice, startling her. “Ava Corajoso, I presume? At last we meet.”
“Who—who are you?” Ava cried, frightened now.
“How very rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Markus Traho.”
“YOU BIG DUMSKALLE!” Skrovlig the goblin said, punching her coworker R?k playfully. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”
R?k, his brow knit in concentration, groaned in frustration. “Pokkers!” he swore in his language, before changing to mer. “You’re as much of a dumskalle, Skro. You couldn’t get it either.”
“Let me have a try,” said Groft, another goblin, taking the puzzle ball from R?k.
The goblins had been building tent frames in preparation for the long journey to the Southern Sea. Ling had swum by just as they were taking a lunch break, her head down, her hands working the spheres of Sycorax’s talisman.
“Hey, Ling, is that the puzzle ball?” Skrovlig had called out. “Let’s have a look at it!”
Ling had swum to the goblin and put the talisman in her hands.
“The whole camp’s talking about this thing,” Groft had said, as she watched Skrovlig try to solve it. “I heard there’s something magical in the center of it. An Arrow of Judgment.”
“That’s what the historians believe,” Ling said, pleased that the rumors she’d started in the HQ cave had spread. As Groft turned and twisted the inner spheres now, Ling explained what the Arrow did. “Can you imagine?” she said. “A device that can tell if a person’s innocent or guilty? How cool is that?”
“Super cool,” Skrovlig replied.
Ling kept talking about the Arrow and its legendary powers. Her plan wouldn’t work unless everyone in the camp knew about it. Sera was away; she’d gone to see Guldemar, to ask him for more troops. Ling hoped to have found the spy by the time she returned.
“I’ve got it!” Groft suddenly shouted, grinning. But almost immediately her face fell. “Wait…no, I don’t.” She tried again, scowling the whole time, then looked up. “Hey, I know! Let’s get a hammer and smash it!”
“Um, maybe not,” Ling said, quickly taking the puzzle ball back. “But thanks for your help. If you know any good puzzle solvers, tell them to come and—”
But Ling’s words were cut off.
“Hey, guys? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Those tent frames aren’t going to build themselves.”
The goblins turned in the direction of the brisk, disapproving voice. Ling did, too.
“Hey, Becca,” she said, trying to mask her frustration at being interrupted.
Becca was holding a clipboard. “According to my schedule, the frames should’ve been completed yesterday.”