Then again, neither was Quentin. But there they all were on Nigel’s bedroom balcony. Quentin did the only thing a nonsorcerer and a human could do in his situation: he jumped. It wasn’t a bad distance. Not a good one, either. But it was survivable, and his chances were better than staying where he was. Fortunately, Nigel was fond of bushes. It gave Quentin something to flatten beside himself when he landed.

The shamans didn’t follow him, but four impeccably armed and armored goblins did. They effortlessly vaulted the railing and landed catlike on the ground below, missing the bushes entirely, covering the distance to the middle of the garden in about half the time as Quentin. The quartet obviously weren’t street thugs, and they had made no effort to conceal their uniforms. Khrynsani temple guards. When Quentin found trouble, he didn’t fool around.

Quentin was running toward the back wall, and us. He looked glad to see us. No surprise there. But the four goblins were gaining on him, and Quentin would never make it to the wall before they caught him. I swore and scrambled over the top, making a wobbly landing on the lawn below. Phaelan was right behind me. Quentin turned his back to us, leaving himself ample room to maneuver and drew a pair of long daggers.

The four goblins were larger and faster than I would have liked. But opponents, like family, were something you didn’t get the luxury of picking for yourself. Realizing that Quentin’s intention was to fight rather than escape, the goblins slowed, each leisurely drawing a scythelike saber. They saw Phaelan and me, but it didn’t seem to have a negative effect on their morale.

Goblins were generally tall, long limbed, and leanly muscled, like elves. This quartet was no exception. Their features were angular, their large eyes dark, and their upswept ears slightly more pronounced at the tip than elven ears.