Her name was Logoya, and she was originally from Barenum. Her fingers poked terribly at my leg scars as I clung to her bench. “Mm,” she said. “Was it a shipwright, a scullion, or a drunken clown who first treated this wound?”

“Ow,” I said.

“I’m not surprised it still hurts. I think the other fellow’s sword is still in here.”

“Really? Like a splinter of it, or–“

“Not really.” She gave my calf a gentle slap, and sat up.

“Can you fix it?”

“Ay, I can. Got your crutch? Come with me.”

I planted my crutch and used my good leg to hoist myself upright. I had gotten better at doing that, but this bench was a different height than I was used to, so I did fall down once. Logoya waited patiently for me.

She led me away from her cottage, back into the woods. We weren’t really on a path; she seemed to be looking for landmarks. There were more rocks and deadfalls and things to step over, and I stumbled more often. Logoya, not wanting me to lose sight of her, paused every time while I recovered my feet.

“Are we going somewhere to gather herbs?” I asked. “Or is there a magical pool somewhere, or a silver deer, or–“

“Nothing so pleasant.”

“Oh.”

And then all of a sudden we were there. I didn’t see it until we were very close to it, but there was a stone crypt, all overgrown with scrub and moss, surrounded by trees. “Here we are,” she said.

“What is it?”

“It’s an old crypt. That’s not the important part. I could tell you the history of who’s inside and how she got there and why I care about it, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you. The part you need to know is, there’s a ring that was lost underneath the crypt. It’s gold and it’s set with two pearls. Do you understand so far?”

“I think so.”

“Underneath the crypt is a giant nest of casket rats. The ring is somewhere in their tunnels. I need you to go in there and get it.”

I had a number of questions.

“Do you have any questions?”

“I do. A number of them.”

“I thought you would,” she said.

“For instance, why don’t you go in there and find the ring?”

“Because it’s horrible! Casket rats are vicious, and I don’t want to have to fight them off and dig through years of their dried shit after a ring!”

“And I do?”

“No… but you do want me to fix your leg.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I conceded. “But how can I do that? I can’t go crawling through rat tunnels.”

“I’m glad you asked. I propose to both mend your leg, and also prepare you for invading rat tunnels, by turning you into a juggernaut frog.”