"That's not enough assurance."

"No," said the soldier. "But this should be." He withdrew a linen handkerchief from his waist pouch and held it out for Da to take.

Da took it. It had embroidery upon one of its corners-three trees and red circle underneath. It was Uncle Argoth's sign.

Da took in and held it to his nose. "Spearmint," he said.

Uncle Argoth loved spearmint, planted it around his house, carried it with him. Talen lowered his bow.

Da sighed. "Let me saddle my mule."

"We have a mount."

"Moon or no, I'll trust my own, thank you."

Da turned to Nettle. "Your father, it seems, can't wait until morning." Then he turned back to his room to dress. "Ke, get Iron Boy saddled up."

Ke pulled on his pants, lit a lamp, and walked outside. The saddle was in the barn, but Talen didn't think Ke would notice the trap. A minute later, he changed his mind and walked past the messenger to warn Ke.

But before he passed the well, he heard Ke call out. "What's this?"

"Ke!" called Talen. "Don't touch anything."

Moments later Talen heard a loud crash and the clank of the cowbell he'd attached to the snare.

"Idiot!" Ke cursed. He stormed around the side of the barn holding the cowbell in one hand, the lamp out in front of him with the other.

"What's that?" asked Da.

Talen turned.

Da stood there in his riding clothes and boots.

Ke motioned behind him in anger. "Around the side of the barn. You'll see. I'm going to fetch Iron Boy."

Two watchmen stood at the well drawing water. Another three stood by the door.

Da addressed them all. "There's fish hanging in the shed. Help yourself."

He motioned for Talen to follow then walked around the side of the barn and stopped. He looked up and saw the rope and noose hanging limply from the pulley. "You know, it's one thing to give a man a beating. It's quite another to kill him. Then you've got blood debt and revenge and families to deal with."

"It wasn't for the hunters," said Talen. "You weren't going to believe me until I had one of the hatchlings swinging in the yard."

"Right," said Da. He sighed. "What if River had come here in the morning to fetch a few potatoes, sleep still in her eyes?"

"I'd thought of that," said Talen.

"No," said Da. "You hadn't. But I give you credit. It's a good idea, poorly executed-you don't hide things like this from your fellow defenders-but a good idea nevertheless. Still, you're not going to reset this. Not tonight."

He waited for Talen's reply.

Talen had had put the others in danger. "No," said Talen. "I will not." put the others in danger. "No," said Talen. "I will not."

Talen watched Da ride off into the darkness with the men. When they disappeared into the moon shadows of the forest, Talen wondered: Da was formidable, so what would they do now if the armsmen returned? Or the hatchling worked some evil?

They restrung the alarm line and went back into the house. Ke pointed at Talen. "Since you're so eager to catch something, I think I'll let you take the next watch. In fact, you and Nettle can have the next two." Then he yawned and retreated to his room.

River said, "The water's hot. I suggest you make a cup of night-watch tea."

Talen stood their strung bows against the wall and opened the shutter to the window. He scanned the yard. Nothing, just the buildings and deep moon shadows. Of course, the shadows could hide anything.

He turned and retrieved the kettle from the hot coals in the hearth and made a cup of tea for Nettle. His cousin would take the first part of the watch. Talen didn't think he would be able to fall back asleep, but unrolled his blanket on the floor by the table and lay down on it anyway.

While the tea cooled, Nettle rummaged through the cupboards. He soon found a thick heel of two-day-old bread upon which he spread salted lard. He said around his mouthful of old bread, "I don't know who to worry about more-hunters or hatchlings. I'm beginning to think we should have laid half a dozen snares."

"Queen's out there now. She and the warning line will have to do. Besides, we still have our bows," said Talen, although he didn't know how much good they'd do. Nettle placed himself to look out the window, and soon Talen felt himself drift to sleep.

Sometime in the dark morning, Nettle nudged him awake.

"Did you see anything?" asked Talen.

"A family of skunks," said Nettle. He yawned. "Came right up to the window, but they must have gotten a whiff of you, because they turned tail and ran."

"Funny," said Talen.

"But true," said Nettle.

Talen rose and put the kettle back over the coals. Before his tea had finished steeping, Nettle lay asleep.

Talen waited at the window into the small hours of the morning. Twice he heard something and brought his bow up to the ready. But nothing materialized. Nothing moved but the night shadows as the moon made its way to the western horizon.

He thought about the upcoming Festival of Gifts, where the people celebrated the end of the fall harvest and all the gifts of the Creators. There would be no Divine bestowing gifts of healing and Fire. But that would not stop the merchants and entertainments.

He had planned on going and buying a few sweets and being content to look at everything else. But now he sat listing out in his mind what a hero and his reward might buy. He was going to surprise everyone. Nobody seemed to think he would amount to much of anything. But what would they say when he hog-tied the hatchlings and carted them into Whitecliff?

He waited and watched and waited and began to tire of waiting. A pressure began to build in his bowels. He stood, tried various positions to hold it, but soon he realized that if he didn't get to the privy immediately, he was going to soil his pants.

Lords and lice, he thought. There was an old chamber pot in the back room, but he couldn't imagine the ribbing he'd get from Ke when he found out he'd been scared to go out. Besides, there was nothing in the yard.

He nudged Nettle, but Nettle only rolled over to his other side. Talen didn't want to go outside. While the moon cast enough light to see, the woods were dark. But he could not wait. He opened the door, scanned the yard and shadows. Truly, nothing was there, so he slipped out the door with his bow and a clutch of arrows and ran to the privy.

As he went about his business, he began to think of the story of the Sleth woman cutting people up and curing them like hog meat.

The hackles rose on the back of Talen's neck. Here he was, foolish enough to go out in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping. It was possible the hatchlings had seen him go in and were waiting in the dark shadow of the house to steal his Fire.

It was a stupid idea. But he couldn't shake it.

But he had his bow. Besides, they hadn't attacked him earlier. Of course, that was during the day. It might be that at such times their power was on the wane.

Talen finished his business but then decided to wait and listen and peer through a knothole about a foot from the bottom of the door. He spent what seemed at least half an hour at it. He held his breath and closed his eyes to hear better, but there was nothing there.

He could stay the whole night in the privy if he had to. But then he thought of Ke. He'd laugh until he cried, and that thought put Talen on his feet. He wasn't going to give Ke or Da that satisfaction.

Talen reached for the door and heard the creak of the well crank.

He paused, and held his breath. Surely, it was a floorboard underneath him.

But he heard it again. Talen crouched at the knothole again and saw two figures at the well. The larger one was cranking the bucket up ever so slowly. It was a girl or young woman about his size. He could see her braid. The smaller one was a boy. He just stood there holding what looked like a goat's bladder.

Talen watched the girl bring up the bucket and fill the goat's bladder. When they had plugged up the mouth of it, the girl turned toward the privy and began walking. The boy followed her without a word. And then he reached out, flailed a bit, and grabbed the back of her tunic.

Blind. He was blind.

One part of him felt the satisfaction of being right. The other shrunk in dread. The hatchlings were were here. here.

There was no way Talen could get to the house now. If he were a coward, he might lift some of the loose boards off the seat and jump down into the cesspit. But they would hear him prying the boards. They would know to look down there. After all, it wasn't so uncommon for people to string a rope from underneath the privy bench to hang their valuables above the cess below. He thought of how Nettle and the others would talk about how he'd died while crapping, his pants down, shivering on the stink throne with fright, and the image of it snapped him out of his fear.

What was he thinking? This was his opportunity. Talen wouldn't be able to trap the hatchlings and take them in alive. So what? He had his bow. He had four arrows. Da had taught him well.

He would take them now, despite the fact that he couldn't hear anything but his heart banging in his ears.

He didn't dare miss. He'd have one shot. If it flew wide of the mark, they'd be on him. But if he made the first count, they'd hesitate just long enough to let him nock a second. A second arrow that he could send into one of their hearts.

That meant he had to wait until they were closer.

Talen bent and looked out the knothole again. It was definitely a girl and a boy. These were were the hatchlings. He gauged the distance between them and the privy. He stood and slowly lifted away the bar that secured the door. Then he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. He reminded himself that he was an expert shot. He might not pull a bow as strong as Ke's, but what he did pull was deadly enough for a girl and a boy. the hatchlings. He gauged the distance between them and the privy. He stood and slowly lifted away the bar that secured the door. Then he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. He reminded himself that he was an expert shot. He might not pull a bow as strong as Ke's, but what he did pull was deadly enough for a girl and a boy.

He did not have enough space to draw his bow in the privy. He didn't want to wait for them to open the door on him anyway. That would be far too close. So he'd have to kick the door open, then draw.

But he didn't need to deliver a mortal shot the first time. He only needed to wound and surprise. Once he'd done that, he could take a bit more time aiming the second arrow.

This was not going to be hard. He could do this.

Talen took one more breath. Now was the time. They should only be a few paces away.

He kicked the door with all his might, but it banged off of something and swung back at him.

Someone grunted.

Lords, he'd kicked it into one of them.

The shock of his miscalculation panicked him. He tried to draw his arrow and step back, but the privy bench got in the way and he fell onto the wall.

He expected the door to fly open and one of them to rush him with claw and fang. But the door just hung ajar.

He heard the padding of feet running away, and felt relief. Then he realized they were running running. They were getting away.

He kicked the door again, and this time it flew wide and banged against the outside of the privy.

The girl ran, holding the boy's hand. They ran like the wind toward the old house and the woods.

He took a step forward and drew the string to his chin. Calm, he had to be calm. The string was locked behind his thumb ring. He had practiced this thousands of times. There were days when Da had demanded he draw and release his bow five hundred times. He had used up eight bows over the years, drawing, then relaxing the position of his thumb ever so slightly so that the string might jump away.

The precise moment of the perfect release, he had learned, would always come as a small surprise.

The string hummed and Talen watched the arrow fly. It snicked away into the dark, a perfect shot. But the hatchlings darted left toward the old house just as the arrow flew from his hand, and Talen's first shot missed.

He strung the second arrow. "Ware!" Talen shouted. "Ware!" He yelled again, and saw Nettle throw open the door just about the same time the creatures disappeared behind the old house.

Talen ran to get a clear view of the open space between the old house and the woods. The thing would not escape this time. But when he got a view of the open space, he saw nothing.

Nettle came stumbling out with his bow in one hand and a half-lit torch in the other.

"They're here!" said Talen. "I've seen them with my own eyes. They're behind the old house."

He and Nettle cautiously approached the old house. It was the first place his father and mother had built. Talen had slept in it now and again until a snake had come wiggling through the ceiling one night to land on him. Such were the hazards of sod roofs. Now it was only used to store things and shelter the dogs who had dug their warren underneath the old floorboards.

Talen and Nettle split apart, giving the house a wide enough berth, positioning themselves so that each covered two of the house's four walls.

"Nothing," said Nettle.

Where could they have gone? Talen realized he'd given the creature the opportunity to slip in the front door of the house both this and the time before.

He swung his bow and pointed it at the door.

"Open it," said Talen to Nettle.

River called out from the house. "Talen? What's going on?"

"We've got them in the old house!" he yelled back.

Talen nodded at the door. "Go on. Here's something real. Open it."

Nettle looked at the door. "Right," he said. "Cover me." Then he grabbed the handle, whipped the door open, and stepped back.

Talen almost released his shaft. But he was happy he didn't waste the arrow, for nobody rushed out.

"There's no use hiding," said Nettle. "Come out where we can see you."

Nothing moved.