Extraordinary Zoology by Howard Tayler Page B

Descending into the mist was like wading into murky water. From above, it was a slowly rippling, pale grey boundary. Below, everything was dim, and Edrea could only see a few paces in front of her. But that was far enough to show her another bent branch.
    “The mist is thick, but I still have the trail.”
    “Good,” Pendrake said. “I’ll keep you in sight as we follow.”
    Edrea continued her descent. After another dozen paces, the ground leveled out and became soggy. She scanned the soft ground and spied several small, water-filled indentations—more footprints.
    She squatted and examined them closely. The toe-and-claw pattern was still visible. In some soils, that detail would dissolve in just a few hours. She pinched a bit of the loamy soil, rubbing it between her fingers. It held its shape better than sand or loose soil would.
    “We are very definitely catching up. These prints were made sometime yesterday.”
    “Excellent work, Edrea!” Pendrake said. “At times like these, I wish you were a student, so I could reward you with high marks.”
    High praise was enough, but Edrea chose to revel in the moment rather than say so.
    “Professor,” Lynus said, “this fog is unusually thick, even for these woods. Swamp gobbers have been known to generate fog like this to facilitate an ambush.”
    “If a Tharn war party came this way, it would have scared off gobbers and bogrin alike,” said Pendrake. “Besides, I expect the five of us look rather imposing, especially with Horgash and Kinik in our number.”
    Edrea spied something she hadn’t seen since entering the woods—signs of permanent habitation. An eight-foot length of wooden walkway jutted out of the mud. Part of a pier, perhaps, but significantly narrower than would be comfortable for humans or Iosans, let alone trollkin or ogrun. It was maybe three feet wide. Barely enough room to walk single file, and none at all to get work done loading and unloading boats.
    But that width was just right for gobbers. They and their slightly larger cousins, bogrin, would be right at home working atop this, out over whatever nearby body of water it used to jut into.
    “Well!” Pendrake said as he rode up behind Edrea. “Gobbers indeed!”
    “It looks like part of a pier,” she said, “but I haven’t found the lake yet.”
    They heard splashing, followed by a sharp curse in Molgur-Trul, the trollkin tongue. Horgash was making a spiteful and entirely dubious claim regarding Greta’s lineage.
    “You mindless rug-rack!” he continued in Cygnaran. “Just because you smell water doesn’t mean you get to drink it!”
    “We’re over here,” called Pendrake.
    “I can hear that,” said Horgash. “Greta was following just fine, but I suppose thirst and pigheadedness got the best of her.”
    “I found a bolt!” Kinik said. “For a ’jack, yes?”
    “Let me have a look,” Lynus said.
    Edrea could barely make him out, a slim, dark-grey silhouette on horseback, just a half head taller than Kinik afoot.
    “The full technical term is ‘counter-threaded joint bolt,’” Lynus said.
    “The full technical term is hardly what’s important about that piece of hardware,” said Pendrake.
    Kinik said, “Strange for a ’jack bolt to be in woods without a ’jack, yes?”
    “Strange for a ’jack bolt to be in woods with a ’jack,” Lynus said. Did he realize he was being a bit cruel?
    “Not at all,” said Pendrake. “Not if this pier is any indication. There might be a gobber village around here, and they can travel pretty far afield scavenging.”
    Horgash emerged from the depths of the mist, followed by his bison. “Greta probably has the right idea,” he said. “Her nose is good. I say we water our mounts here and scan the lakeshore for more Tharn tracks. In this soft soil we might be able to get a sense of their numbers.”
    The shore was less than a dozen paces to the right of the track Edrea had been following. It was littered with planks. A few