Gillian Summers - The goblin's curse

Goblins. The cavern was shiny with torchlight reflecting off slick, fungus-like skin where it wasn’t covered by armor. It looked like a war party of demons. A few of the goblins were like Cricket-glossy, black, and insect-like-but they were almost man-tall. And there was no waterfall. It was the goblins who roared, arms raised in celebration.

It suddenly occurred to Keelie that she’d done such a good job of blocking herself from the trees, so that Dad wouldn’t know where she was, that she’d also blocked her magical senses.

She felt the magic now, waves of it prickling against her skin. She had to notify Dad, but if she tried to use magic, the goblins might notice it. Or maybe her use of it would be hidden from them? Keelie suddenly craved fresh air. Her chest burned and ached as if it was being squeezed. Panic attack. She needed to get out of here now. What if they captured her and tortured her?

Knot placed his paw on her foot, and the waves of anxiety crashing in on her began to ease.

“Meow this way.”

Keelie fought the fear, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She was okay. They hadn’t sensed her yet, and if she could back out as quietly as she’d entered, they would never know she’d been here. In the cavern, the goblins were starting to bob and shuffle. Now was her chance to back out, while they were busy doing whatever they were about to do.

A familiar jangle made her freeze before she’d taken a step-the sound of a belled hat, somehow audible over the roar of the goblins. Peascod. It had to be. She edged back to the cavern opening and leaned forward to peek in.

The goblins were dancing now. Their squatting and jumping and shuffling would get them kicked out of any L.A. club, but it was definitely dancing. Were they celebrating?

Standing on a stone ledge, on the opposite side of the cavern, was a slender figure who seemed to be leading the dance. It was definitely male, or at least Keelie thought so, given the broad shoulders and slender waist-and mask. Keelie’s breath caught. The figure was dancing maniacally, and then he started to bang a big kettle drum that stood waist-high on the floor. The goblins bounced to his beat and banged their boots on the stone floor. The figure reached down, snatched something from the floor, and jammed it on his head. A jester’s hat.

Torches blazed into light around the cavern and the goblins roared their approval. The light reflected off the shiny mask on Peascod’s face. He began to pull it off, to cheers and cries of approval.

As Keelie leaned in, not breathing as she waited to see what Peascod hid behind his mask, a steel-covered hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her around. The goblin stared at her for a second, face tilted; then his lips skimmed back to reveal jagged yellow fangs.

Keelie wrenched free and leaped down the corridor, dropping her rose quartz. The next tunnel junction had to be ahead. Metal rang on stone as the goblin gave chase. Keelie’s knees were like jelly and her fingertips scrapped against the stone wall as she tried to keep her bearings. A guttural cry sounded behind her and she ran even faster, banging painfully into the walls in the darkness.

Words from the Compendium floated behind her eyes. Her breath came in harsh gasps as she tried to remember what they meant. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they’d come to her now. She started to say the words aloud, then paused. What if it was a get-your-socks-clean charm? Or one to keep mice out of your knitting? She recognized the elven word for “red,” but that meant nothing. It could be a charm to make tree leaves brighter in the autumn.

Hot pain shredded across her left thigh and she leaped in reaction, startling a grunt out of her attacker. Furious and panicked, Keelie yelled the words of the charm. A wave of heat pushed her forward, propelling her up into the air and smacking her sideways into the stone wall. Her right shoulder went numb, and her belly curled up in fear.

She fell to the floor, shaking and in pain. When she could breathe normally again, she realized that the fear she felt was the Dread-she must be close to the part of the forest where the elves lived, their protective spell somehow penetrating the soil beneath them and carrying down into Under-the-Hill. This place was scary enough without adding the Dread.

Since she no longer had her rose quartz, Keelie summoned Earth magic and wrapped its protection around her. The Dread’s grip diminished. The rock walls still thumped to the beat of the drum, but she didn’t sense any living creature nearby. She reached out with her tree sense.

Hrok? Are you there?

Immediately, Hrok’s comforting presence flooded her mind. I’m here.

Goblins. Lots of them. Need to warn Dad. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder, then paused. She could see, dimly; her connection to Hrok must be allowing her to see in the darkness.

Milady, you shouldn’t be afraid of the goblins. They are our friends.

Keelie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Knot slid in between her and the wall. His soft warmth comforted her.

A movement to her left caught her eye, and she froze. It was the goblin who’d chased her, passed out on the floor. He looked a little scorched, having been on the receiving end of whatever that charm had been. He moved again.

“Meow follow me.” Knot head-butted her, encouraging her to keep moving.

A chirp sounded from above her and she looked up to see a pair of inquisitive eyes looking down at her.

“Cricket!”

The little goblin jumped down and poked her sore arm. She batted his sharp-pointed fingers away. “Stop. It hurts.”

Cricket chirped again, then stopped and looked behind her, his expression somber. He’d spotted the big goblin. Did he realize that he was one, too? He dropped to the ground and went to explore his unconscious relative, then he turned and looked at her arm, his eyes troubled.

Keelie glanced down and gasped, feeling queasy. Her arm had two gouges on it, and her sleeve was stained with blood. She’d thought her arm just ached from hitting the wall.

“Come on, Cricket. Let’s go.”

She crawled around the goblin’s body and followed Knot up the tunnel. She flexed her fingers. They still seemed to work, which was good. They finally reached the dirt staircase and she eased up it, bit by shaky bit. There was a long moment when Keelie thought she would be climbing forever, but then she smelled the green of the grass near the obelisk rock.

She was already out in the open before she realized that her journey was over. It was dark outside now, but the sound of the crickets and the faint strains of a fiddle from the players’ campground finally penetrated her foggy mind.

Outside. Keelie took a deep breath and fell over, lying on the grass and watching the stars above. Knot plopped down beside her, and his purring presence filled her with relief and comfort. Cricket crunched on some rocks near her feet.

“Come on, guys, let’s get going. I don’t want the goblins to catch my scent.”

As they came to the bridge, a warm wave surrounded Keelie. It was not just Hrok, but the other trees in the meadow. Keelie could hear them all, but one in particular caught her attention-a longleaf pine who seemed to be speaking to someone else. Keelie realized that it was talking to her father.

She interrupted, using the pine’s connection to call out to Dad.

Danger, Dad. I need you. She sent mental images of what she’d seen Under-the-Hill.

Also, Dad, Hrok told me that the goblins are friends to the trees. I don’t know why he would think that; he knows what goblin blood can do to a tree. If the others believe this too, we have a big problem. Maybe they’re mixed up because the goblins are coming from Under-the-Hill like the bhata.