Their pale gray skin set off their most distinguishing feature—a pair of fangs that weren’t for decorative use only. Just because a goblin smiled at you didn’t mean he wanted to be friends. The danger didn’t detract from the race’s appeal—some would say it fueled it. I guess all that sinuous grace and exotic beauty can make you overlook a lot, and there were plenty of half-breed children running around to prove it. Some said that elves and goblins came from a common ancestor; a theory hotly denied by the old blood of both races.

The full moon provided more than ample light to fight by. I’m sure the goblins would try to maneuver us into the shadows of Nigel’s orchard. They could try, but the only place I was going was back over the wall when this was over. Not that I couldn’t see well in the dark, but goblins could see better. What looked pitch dark to an elf or human was as bright as day to a goblin, which of course meant the perfect time to cross blades with a goblin was high noon in full sun. I didn’t think the goblin who broke off from the group and was moving toward me would be willing to reschedule. Pity.

They fanned out to surround us. Two of the temple guards centered their attentions on Phaelan. Apparently they saw him as more of a threat. I don’t think he was flattered. The one who had chosen me for a dance partner grinned, exposing an alarmingly sharp pair of fangs. His face, framed by long, black hair, bore several scars. That told me he’d made mistakes in the past. Good. Hopefully I could help him make at least one more.

He circled off and feinted a quick, stabbing attack. He wasn’t serious yet, and I didn’t take the bait. They didn’t intend to kill us quickly. As long as things stayed quiet, and their work uninterrupted, they would want to play first. I agreed with the silence, but I had no intention of being anyone’s evening entertainment. This toy had teeth.

The goblins wore tooled leather covered with a combination of blued-steel plate and scale armor.