The wagon moved forward slowly, then creaked to a halt in the center of the clearing. The smell of damp earth and pine sap hung heavy in the noon air.

  The Harvest stood back, five cloaked figures with skull-masked faces pale against the gray light. Jin waited at the front, motionless, hands folded behind his back. His gaze slid over the clearing, then caught on the warriors. Fifty Ironfang in neat ranks of ten, shields aligned, spacing exact, wolves crouched steady behind their riders. A murmur passed among the masked figures. One shifted his weight as if uneasy. Another’s head tilted with open curiosity.

  “Unusual,” Jin said at last. “Goblins in lines rather than a swarm.” “We prefer order,” Grub said. “It keeps more of us alive.”

  Jin’s eyes lingered on the pale, uniform shields, then returned to Grub. He gave the smallest nod.

  Grub raised a hand, and two lines of goblins stepped forward to unload the crates stacked in the back of the wagon. No one spoke.

  The goblins moved quickly, quiet and efficient. Rika dismounted and strode among them, checking every crate that hit the ground. Her wolf, Ashpaw, paced at the edge of the clearing, yellow eyes fixed on the humans.

  Wood thudded against soil. Rope came loose. Lids were pried open with spearheads and blades. The air filled with the scent of smoked meat, grain, and tanned leather. Everything matched the price they had agreed upon. Something caught Grubs eye as a warrior passed by him holding a crate. He motioned for the goblin to put the crate down.

  Grub crouched beside the opened crate. The wood was pale, the grain tight. His eyes caught something faint on the side, a thin chalk line curved like a symbol rather than a scratch. He rubbed at it with his thumb. The mark did not smudge. It shimmered faintly, like dew catching light.

  He looked up at Jin, who was watching him with interest. “What are these?” he asked. Jin tilted his head slightly. “Just sigils of identification,” he said smoothly. “Marks for our records. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  Grub frowned and leaned closer. The faint shimmer pulsed once under his breath, leaving a tingle in the air. “They are magical,” he said. His eyes narrowed and he looked back up at the masked man. “Tracking marks?”

  Jin’s tone did not shift. “You are perceptive.”

  Rika’s hand dropped to the curve of her knife. “You meant to follow us.”

  Jin spread his hands, gentle, as if correcting a child. “We test those we deal with. Anyone who accepts gifts without checking them does not deserve our respect.” Grub’s eyes hardened. “You will not find us so easily fooled.” Jin gave the smallest shrug. “Then you have passed the test.”

  Grub straightened, and spoke loudly enough for the nearby warriors to hear. “Scrape every board. Open every crate. Empty them all.”

  They moved at once. Lids came off. Contents were laid out in careful rows. Spears pried loose corners and boards. They found three more sigils hidden deeper than the first, one under a hinge, one beneath a lid, one burned faintly into a crossbeam.

  Grub touched the last one, feeling the faint hum under the surface. He looked at the Harvest group, still standing and watching as the goblins moved around the clearing. “This must be what you used against the Red Tusk,” he said quietly.

  “Yes,” Jin replied. He sounded almost amused. “It worked well. Their chief was a fool, easily impressed with trinkets.”

  Rika scowled. “And you assumed we would be the same?.”

  Jin turned his masked face toward her. “If you had been careless, we would not have needed to make the attempt.” Grub’s voice was calm, but there was iron beneath it. “We are not the Red Tusks.”

  He looked to the warriors. “Clean the wood. Burn the pieces with marks. We leave nothing for them to follow.” They worked in silence. When the last crate was reloaded and tied down on the sleds, Jin spoke again.

  “You ask to learn our tongue, and the language spell we use,” he said. “We will teach you. But first, we must be certain you can actually cast the spell you want to learn. Show us that you can channel mana at all.”

  Rika’s gaze flicked toward Grub. “You want proof?” Jin inclined his head. “Proof that you can work magic. Enough to carry a spell.”

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  Grub regarded him for a long breath. Then he stepped to a bare patch of ground, away from the stacked goods and wolves. The Harvest tracked his movements with their eyes, but did not move from their spot.

  He lowered his eyes to the earth and simply pushed. The soil trembled. A narrow seam of ground softened and slid like wet sand, curling in a slow ribbon. It rose into a low berm, then ran in a slow, curved line before him, parting around a stone and filling itself back in as if smoothed by an unseen palm. A shallow spiral took shape at Grub’s feet, then settled. He looked up at the watching humans, and noticed some shock reflected in their eyes.

  One of the masked figures whispered to the others, loud enough for Grub to hear, “No words.” Another said, almost disbelieving, “And no shaping.”

  Jin watched the ground settle, then looked back at Grub. His voice had changed. Still even, but carrying new weight. “That... was proof enough. You can cast.”

  Grub gave a single nod. "You doubted?" "Honestly? Yes. Your kind do not have many mages, as far as we know. We thought it was impossible for a..." He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. "Non-civilized race to cast magics." Rika bristled with anger, but before she could say anything, Jin held up his hands in a placating manner, and spoke again. "I meant no offense. I did not know how to word it better. You know what I meant."

  Grubs eyes had narrowed slightly, but he just gave a single sharp nod, and shot Rika a glance that told her to stand down. She huffed, but complied, and moved away to stand with the other goblins.

  Jin turned slightly and motioned to the smallest of the five. A man stepped forward from the line, hood falling back to show a narrow face and steady eyes. “This is Orion,” Jin said. “He will teach you our language spell when the Bonegnashers are gone, and he will tutor you in our tongue. Lessons will take place here, every other day, 10 lessons total. We will see what progress that brings before we go any further.”

  Orion studied the spiral in the dirt, then Grub’s empty hands. “After your signal appears, I will come.”

  Grub’s gaze met his. “A signal,” he repeated. "To show we have dealt with the Bonegnashers?" Jin nodded. “Here, in this clearing. A sign only you would leave. When we find it, he will return.”

  Grub thought for a brief moment. “A broken spearhead, buried and sticking up out of the dirt before the stone at the center of the clearing. When you see it, the Bonegnashers are finished.” “Clean and simple,” Jin said. “We will watch for it.”

  Silence stretched, filled only by the breath of wolves and the soft creak of leather harness. The fog drifted low between the trees.

  Grub stepped forward and extended his hand. “Until next time.”

  Jin hesitated only a moment, then clasped it. His glove was cool and smooth, the grip brief but firm. “Until next time, Grub of the Ironfang.”

  The five cloaked figures turned and moved out of the clearing, heading to the south, the wagon creaking over roots and stones until it disappeared into the trees. The sound faded, swallowed by mist and distance.

  For a long moment, neither Grub nor Rika spoke. The clearing was quiet except for a raven’s cry and the soft chuff of the wolves. “They will try to find us again,” Rika said.

  “They will,” Grub agreed. His eyes were still on the trail the wagon had taken. “But today they made a mistake.” Rika turned her head slightly. “What kind of mistake?”

  “They brought a wagon,” Grub said. “Something tells me this is the first time they have ever handed supplies directly to a tribe while they watched. The Hobgoblin we interrogated said that the Red Tusks received their crates at the Jaw, at night, when no one could see who brought them. This time they changed their method. They wanted to learn how we would react.”

  Rika frowned. “So what can we do about it?”

  “We follow them, and watch where they go,” Grub said. He turned to one of the scouts waiting near the sleds. “Track them. Stay far enough that they never see you. Keep your distance and remain unseen if you can. Follow until you know where they go and how long they travel before they stop. Then return to the cave with your report.”

  The scout bowed his head once and slipped into the forest, silent as a shadow. Rika watched him vanish into the mist. “You do not trust them.”

  Grub’s voice was steady but cold. “No. Of course not. Men who hide their faces behind skulls rarely come with good intentions. Whatever they are, they are not simple traders. They drive goblins to raid human settlements, maybe to start something worse. I need to know what their goal is, and why they want it done through others. Today our goals simply aligned. The Ironfang need to expand and grow, and they need a tribe of troublemaking goblins to be dealt with. We got paid to do something we probably would have done for free. The next time, their task may not be so convenient.”

  “You think they mean to use us,” Rika said. “I know they do,” Grub said. “The question is just for what.” He glanced at the neat stacks on the sleds. “If we understand their plans, we can decide how to use them instead. For now, we can profit from them.”

  Rika’s eyes narrowed in thought. “A dangerous path.” “All the paths worth walking are,” Grub said quietly. “Until we have answers, we must be careful and we can trust no one outside the tribe.” Rika nodded once. “Understood.”

  Grub lifted his hand and spoke loudly again. “Finish loading the last sleds. We head home.”

  The goblins moved to obey. Harnesses were tightened. Wolves leaned into the traces. The air filled again with motion and low sound.

  Grub rested a hand on Sable’s neck, eyes on the wagon ruts vanishing south into the fog. “We will see where their path leads,” he said softly. Rika looked at him. “And when we do?” Grub’s gaze stayed on the trees. “Then we can decide the next step.”

  The Ironfang turned south, sleds laden with the goods of men who thought themselves masters of the goblins of the North Wilds.

  Behind them, the clearing stood silent once more, the thin spiral in the dirt stark as a reminder of what happened here today, and the faint smell of stirred soil lingering in the air.

  Grub made the journey back to the cave in a thoughtful silence, his mind already racing ahead to how they would handle the Bonegnashers.