"Thank you for your help." Walin Barklo Vaslov bowed to her, and the woman immediately returned the gesture.

  "Hmm." Toyef Bilinski muttered, "How long has that boy been gone to relieve himself?"

  "Well..." the woman stammered, "not long, my lord... he... he just went."

  Holar Peter Wilton instantly became alert. "Where?"

  "This... this... I..."

  "Answer him, my lady," Walin maintained a gentle tone.

  "He didn't say where he was going..." The woman seemed to yield. "He just said he was going to relieve himself... and I... I told him... not to go too far, at most... at most only to..."

  "Where to?" Wilton demanded.

  "The riverbank."

  "Oh! Damn it! Damn it!" Wilton cursed. "Gods damn it!"

  "Calm down, Wilton," Walin said. "What's wrong? Is there something by the riverbank?"

  Wilton grabbed the dwarf, pulling him aside so their backs faced the woman and Toyef. "I screwed up."

  "Screwed up how?" Walin grew anxious. "Wait... the riverbank? Oh... don't tell me..." Toyef Bilinski eyed the two suspiciously while the woman kept repeating, "Damn it? Why damn it?" Her gaze unfocused. "Did I say something wrong? Did I do something wrong? I..."

  "Yes, I screwed up, Walin. I didn't finish burying it."

  "Keep calm, keep calm." Walin looked even more nervous than Wilton. "It's dark all around; without light, it's hard to notice your... no, her grave." He whispered, "But please tell me you didn't mark it with something, for the gods' sake!"

  "My axe."

  Walin Barklo Vaslov nearly collapsed. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

  "I took my axe to the river to clean it. I didn't finish."

  "And the axe must have..."

  "Bloodstains."

  Walin spat. "Alright, alright. It seems the Triad of Destiny isn't on our side. Let's just hope the boy is as blind as Elis..."

  Holar Peter Wilton drew Walin Barklo Vaslov's short sword. "Don't do anything stupid."

  "My knife doesn't need cleaning, Wilton," the black-bearded dwarf said coldly.

  "It might soon." Wilton's tone was emotionless. "I still need it to dig a hole."

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  "He's just a boy!" This time, everyone heard.

  "Yes, Walin. You've reminded me—I shouldn't do this." Wilton shook his head. "I should dig two."

  Standing atop the mound, Nate finally managed to pull the axe free. "So heavy," he grunted, swinging it twice before setting it down beside him. He had a brilliant idea: "I'll use this axe to chop fireflies later."

  The boy let out a long sigh of relief as he emptied his bladder. His urine arced into the river, diluted, absorbed, and carried away by the current. Just as the dead are absorbed, assimilated, and carried away by the earth.

  He didn't whistle. He often thought whistling, like singing, was a skill he'd never master in his lifetime. The stream danced for quite some time as he emptied himself completely.

  The soil beneath his feet shifted suddenly, causing Nate's wet feet to lose balance. He fell heavily onto the mound, his face, body, and nether regions now caked with mud.

  "Just my luck," the boy grumbled, wiping dirt from his lips. "Now I'm filthy all over." He dusted off his clothes. "Oh, wait! I can jump in the river to wash and tell Mother I fell in!" The smile returned to his face.

  He hadn't wondered why there was a mound by the riverbank, or why an axe was embedded in it. Though he did notice the axe was larger than those typically used by human farmers. Now, however, his curiosity turned to what lay beneath the mound, as he felt something strange beneath him.

  After cleaning himself and readjusting his pants, Nate declared, "Let's see what this is," and began digging into the earthen heap.

  First, he felt something like fine strands. "That's weird," he said. "It feels like Mother's hair."

  He tugged at the strands, pulling hard. A cracking sound emerged from within the dirt, but it didn't register with Nate. Something far more significant now consumed the boy's attention.

  Soil fell away from Caroline Tobias's face. "A... a... a head?" Nate wasn't sure if he felt terror or exhilaration. Exhilaration because he'd made an incredible discovery he could boast about to his mother. Terror because he couldn't comprehend why a dead person was buried here.

  The boy hastily tossed Caroline's head back and jumped down from the mound. His foot struck the axe. "I understand now!" he exclaimed, grabbing the weapon and noticing dried bloodstains in the moonlight. "I have to tell Mother right away!"

  He sprinted with all his might, dragging behind him the black axe—darker than the night itself.

  "Wilton, return my short sword." Walin extended his hand. "Don't act like a madman."

  "I'm perfectly sane," Wilton had no intention of surrendering the weapon. "You're the mad one, Walin. Those humans have driven you insane. You should come to the river with me to wash your face and clear your head." He turned to leave but found Toyef Bilinski blocking his path.

  "Move aside, Toyef," he said. "You're in my way."

  "No one hides secrets from the great Bilinski." The red-haired dwarf planted his hands on his hips. "Speak, Wilton—or you, Walin. Tell us everything."

  "Nothing," Wilton replied.

  "Do you think I'd believe your act after overhearing your argument?" Toyef's neck veins bulged. "Speak! What's happened to the boy? Where are you going armed?"

  Wilton met Toyef's gaze unflinchingly. "This is our business, not yours."

  "Walin!" the red-haired dwarf roared. "Speak!"

  "The girl is buried by the riverbank."

  "Who?!"

  "The human woman traveling with us, the baby's mother."

  "Didn't you say she died of dysentery on the journey? Why is she buried here?"

  "Walin, stop wasting words on him."

  "I wasn't addressing you, Wilton. The moment you pointed that blade at me, you lost the right to speak to me."

  Toyef Bilinski's red beard quivered with his heavy breathing. Wilton chose silence. "Walin," the red-haired dwarf pressed.

  "That woman didn't die of dysentery. She... damn it." Walin ran his palm across his beard. The kneeling woman nearby covered her mouth in horror.

  "You should have kept quiet, Walin." Wilton raised the short sword. "Step aside, Toyef. I won't repeat myself."

  The red-haired dwarf placed his hand on his sword hilt. "Sorry, I'm old and hard of hearing," he said, locking eyes with Wilton. "I'll give you one chance. Say that again."