"There's something else," Saldavin said. "I heard a few imps and grems talking about a large goort nearby, by itself, standing on a mountain clockwise from here."

"Which mountain?" Zel asked.

"Imps and grems couldn't remember each other's names, let alone the mountain's."

Groaning, Zel gestured at the table. There had to be a map on it or something.

"Did they at least note the color of the goort?"

Gorlus sucked in a heavy breath. "Pure obsidian."

The expression that cut across Zel's face knocked the wind out of Mia. She looked afraid? It lasted maybe a tenth of a second, before the demon's face hardened, and she idly plucked...