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He winced, realizing she must fear for her life. He hadn’t done a thing to assure her that he meant her no harm. Quite the contrary.

“No harm will come to you,” he hurried to explain. “But I cannot let you go home until I determine why the Bifrost reached out to you. From what I understand, humans don’t usually possess an affinity for magic. But I’ve heard your people are more susceptible to its effects. You’re more...fragile. Vulnerable.”

She snorted. He wished he could see her face then because he wondered what she was thinking. Had he insulted her?

“How long will that take?”

“You’re the first human I’ve ever met. I can’t predict what this all means.”

A startled silence answered him. “You never met another human?”

“No. Your kind don’t venture down here. Haven’t as long as I’ve been here, anyway.”

Something stirred in the tunnels. Jael’s head lifted, and he scanned the darkness as the sound of footsteps echoed toward them. Rig must be returning with the rest of his little gang. He stood up and brushed off the back of his trousers. Soon rune light flickered against the tunnel walls, mingled with the shadows of approaching figures.

As Rig burst from the tunnel, brandishing his runestone high as if it were a trophy, a slew of tiny bodies crowded the opening behind him.

Jael’s mouth went dry.

“Here we are!” Rig announced, beaming. A tiny goblinborn girl clung to his side, peering beneath jagged bangs. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked as she blinked up at them. His gaze shifted to the others—the “couple” others.

Most were smaller than Rig, some with blue eyes, some with green, some portly and others thin. All of them wore tattered clothes covered in dirt and grime.

Dragon’s bite him, his initial guess had been sorely too low. Heat rose from his belly into his face, and he curled his fingers into fists that dug nails into his palms.

At least three dozen faces grinned back at him from the shadows.

He felt a little ill as he led the way down the final corridor toward Imenborg. What in the world was he to do? They didn’t have the staff or the facilities to take care of three dozen goblinborn orphans. Behind him, said orphans crowded around Anrid. They clamored for her attention, talking over one another as they giggled and bounced around. Already they were falling behind.

He paused and waited for them to catch up. Anrid caught his eye as she struggled toward him through the sea of small bodies. Dark circles of exhaustion hugged her eyes, but she managed a lopsided smile and arched an eyebrow as if to apologize for the delay.

A small hand tugged at his trousers. He studied the sleepy, heart-shaped face of the little girl that resembled Rig.

“I like you,” she said with a toothy smile.

“Um...thank you?” He hesitated before patting her on the head. In response, she wrapped her arms and legs around his leg, latching onto him like a leech. He jostled his leg to dislodge her, but she giggled and clung tighter. Resigned, he shot Anrid a helpless look. A headache raged behind his temples, and he longed to find a quiet room to collect his thoughts. And his sanity. “Can you try to make—sense of all this?”

Anrid cleared her throat. “Attention, please. Attention!” She clapped her hands, but the goblinborn ignored her as they jostled each other around and pushed against her. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly. The sound bounced down the tunnel and silenced the crowd.

Three dozen expectant faces stared at her.

“Excellent. Now I want you to form two lines. Here and here. Youngest to oldest. No, no—what’s your name?”

“Crag.”

“Crag, you go to the back.” She caught the older boy by the arm and ushered him out of the front of the line. He whined in disgruntlement, but to Jael’s surprise obeyed her instructions.

Anrid turned toward Jael. “You too, pretty girl. Medda, is it?”

The leech wrapped around his leg giggled.

“Release the nice man, now—er, the nice goblin—and come get in line. You can be in front, yes?”

“Yeth!” she squealed and slid down Jael’s leg to sit on his foot as she untangled her limbs and tried to get back to her feet. The entire time, she laughed as if riding legs was the funniest thing she’d ever done.

Anrid braced one hand against the wall after she’d successfully maneuvered little Medda and the last of the younglings into two ragged lines.

“You have some experience with wrangling hordes,” Jael muttered.