Page 89 of Winter Lost

“They weren’t afraid of saying ‘thank you’ to someone like Liam,” Adam observed.

“Goblins, eh,” said Liam. “They aren’t powerful—but there are a lot of them and they work together. More now, since Larry has taken the throne. He has turned his horde of misfits into an army. I don’t know any fae except perhaps a Gray Lord who would take advantage of a ‘thank you’ given by a goblin in the past decade.” He shook his head and smiled with genuine amusement. “And the little pests know it.”

Larry really was the king of the goblins, then. Not just the ones in the Tri-Cities.

Adam wasn’t distracted by thoughts of a goblin monarchy. “So a ‘thank you’ is—

“A way of thumbing their noses at the powerful fae,” said Liam, a hint of amusement in his voice that faded as he continued. “But Charles is not a Gray Lord or a capricious Power. Charles is the hand of judgment. He is not spiteful or wicked. If Charles comes for a goblin, the goblin king would not stand in his way. He will tell his people that justice has been done. They have a reason to fear Charles—assuming they’ve done something to offend him.”

Or planned to, I thought, remembering the way the goblins had sounded about Bran’s presumed hoard of fae artifacts. Aspen Creek, the Marrok’s pack’s territory, was not too far from here. Maybe the goblins had been thinking about robbing someone who was not a frost giant.

“I cannot check their rooms,” Liam said. “They came here as refugees. The spirit of Looking Glass protects them.”

“I don’t think it’s them,” I said stubbornly.

“Can you look in the other people’s rooms?” Adam asked.

Liam nodded. “Maybe I will organize some work parties this afternoon. We need to clear out some of this snow. I doubt the Heddars will participate—but I can look in their rooms at dinner.”

“This could be a very long storm,” Adam said, getting to his feet and pulling me to mine.

Liam frowned and nodded. Then he walked to the door and opened it for us to exit. Something creaked over our heads.

“I’ll clear the roof while the rest of them are shoveling snow,” Adam offered as he led the way out the door.

I’d been reexamining what we knew. I had much better questions than I’d had last night, and I knew who I wanted to ask about them.

“Unless you need me to shovel snow,” I said, “I think I’d better check on Gary’s horses.”

“Hrímnir is taking care of them,” Adam said.

“But it’s not his job, is it?” I said. “It’s Gary’s, and that means it’s mine.”

“If you’re going up to the ranch, could you check and see if Gary has any eggs?” Liam asked, bringing up the rear. “He was using the kitchen in the main building because he preferred to cook on the gas stove. I have enough for a couple of days, but I’d be happier with another dozen.”

“Eggs,” said Adam with a frown.

“If I don’t come home, check for me in Italy,” I told him. He didn’t look like he thought I was funny.

—

As the crow flies, the ranch was about three miles from the lodge. On four feet it took me about forty minutes to make the trip. The snow had lightened up, probably because it was well below zero out. The winds cut through my coyote winter coat, so I stuck to the wooded areas where the trees blocked some of it.

I’d carried Adam’s pack because mine wasn’t big enough to stuff my winter coat in. The straps took a bit of jury-rigging—Adam’s wolf is over two hundred pounds, and my coyote is around thirty-five. But when Adam was finished, it was secure and I could still wiggle out when I wanted to change.

The barn door was closed tight and it had a round door handle, so I had to become human to get in the barn. It was a good thing that years of knowing our foul-mouthed British wolf had expanded my vocabulary of power words. They lasted me until I was able to shut the door behind me.

The horses whinnied as soon as I opened the door. One of them put a hoof on the metal bar of the panel fence and made a loud noise. The other popped his lips together, like Donkey in Shrek. Or maybe it had been Shrek 2.

“I know, I know,” I told them. “I’m dressing as quick as I can. Underwear. Bra. Socks. Oh, good socks. Warm socks. Jeans. Sweatshirt. Coat.”

I indulged in a full-body shiver, then put on shoes. I’d brought my tennis shoes instead of my boots because even Adam’s pack didn’t have room for midcalf boots as well as my coat.

“No stepping on my toes, you two,” I told the horses, flexing my toes in their meager protection. “You have big feet, and the tennis shoes aren’t going to help much.”

They had water, though they’d drunk the tank down by about four inches. It was still warm. That would be a handy bit of magic. I wondered again if Gary would teach me how to do it.

Not that keeping water unfrozen was likely to be all that useful. But it would be fun to have a magic spell I could work. Changing into a coyote was who I was. It didn’t feel like magic, and it was most useful when everyone didn’t know I could do it. But keeping water unfrozen…that might be a neat party trick.

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