The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom

“Miss Winslow,” he said, his voice unsteady, “meet Dr. Stanley Thatcher, head of the Westcross Asylum.”

Kate turned around again and looked out at the black forest, delighted and amazed. She had faced the goblin King alone and had beaten him! She had been set out like bait in a trap with no friends, no weapon, and no magic, and she was still standing free in the moonlight while he headed back to his horrible caves. She wanted to whoop and shriek, to yell insults into the darkening night. Instead, she demurely turned around and faced the two men.

“There’s been some kind of explosion,” she said, studying the doctor with cool curiosity. “Look, the windows blew in. Do the rooms next to this one have broken windows, too?”

Hugh Roberts didn’t seem to have heard the question. He had wandered a few steps into the room and was staring around in shock. Kate felt a smug amusement. If her pompous guardian found a little thing like this so upsetting, she could just imagine the look on his face if he saw the goblin King himself.

“I don’t think we know,” said the doctor briskly. “Mr. Roberts, why don’t we check the other rooms for damage?” Her guardian glanced around distractedly and followed the doctor out. As soon as they left, Kate bent and untied the knot from her ankle. She was just standing up and surveying the ripped sash when Mrs. Bigelow appeared in the doorway.

“What happened?” she gasped. Kate retied the damaged sash over her dress.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Bigelow,” she said calmly. “Some kind of explosion. The men were just checking on things.”

The housekeeper’s face sagged. She turned frightened eyes on Kate.

“It’s them , isn’t it, that did it?” she whispered darkly.

Kate patted the torn sash into place and strolled past the housekeeper into the lighted hall.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.

Later, sitting in the study, she sipped her tea and surveyed her new combatants with serene assurance. She had just defeated a goblin with her own bare hands. The head doctor of a lunatic asylum couldn’t possibly frighten her now.

Actually, Dr. Thatcher didn’t look very frightening. He didn’t look as if he would want to be. A fit, white-bearded man of fifty, he had an agreeable, fatherly face and seemed interested in everything. Kate would have loved to tell him about her fight with Marak. Dr. Thatcher would have found him fascinating. But she had no desire to be locked up in an insane asylum, so the truth would have to wait until she was alone with Emily.

“The other rooms weren’t damaged in the slightest,” Dr. Thatcher was saying. “Have you any idea what might have caused it, Miss Winslow?”

“None at all,” Kate answered readily. “I went to the door to respond to your knock. Then there was a devastating crash, and I hid my face and tumbled to the floor. Could it have been a prank, do you think? One of the stable boys playing with gunpowder or coal dust? Goodness, I hope no one blew a hand off!”

Kate’s guardian polished his spectacles. “I don’t know,” he said unsteadily. “I’d rather not discuss it now. Miss Winslow, I’ve been to see Dr. Thatcher about you, and he very much wanted to meet you. He’s interested in your goblin visitor.”

“Oh, do you study goblins?” Kate asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about them,” admitted the doctor with a smile.

“Then we’d better call Mrs. Bigelow,” Kate suggested. “She can tell all sorts of wonderful tales about them. Did you know that her grandparents actually believed goblins existed? Elves, too. Isn’t that charming?” She smiled at the men. They stared back, a little nonplussed.

“Now, wait a minute, Miss Winslow,” said Hugh Roberts with a frown. “I just heard a story from your sister this afternoon stuffed chock-full of goblins. The goblin King was coming to drag you away.”

Kate fixed her guardian with a surprised stare. “And you believed her?” she asked in astonishment. The doctor turned his interested eyes from her to Hugh Roberts, whose pale cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Miss Winslow,” Hugh said firmly, “you yourself said you were in terrible danger, and you begged me to send you away. You said the goblins were coming to drag you off, just like Adele Roberts in the story.”

Kate shrugged. She wished that Marak were there to see her. If lying was for humans, then by all means, let her lie.

“But I never thought you’d believe it,” she said artlessly. “I thought grown men knew that goblins couldn’t exist.”

Her guardian rose from his chair and began pacing the floor. “What about that strange creature you saw the night of the storm? What about your hysterical dash through the door? Prim and Celia practically had to revive you.”

“I certainly didn’t invent that,” Kate assured him. She turned to Dr. Thatcher. “My sister Emily and I got lost in a stormy night, and we stumbled onto a camp of Gypsies. An old woman told my fortune for me, and a Gypsy guided us home. He told us all kinds of terrible stories as we walked through the night, and he was entirely muffled in a black cloak and hood. When we arrived at the house, he pulled back the hood so I could see his face. Now, Aunt Prim says that if I saw him during the day, I would have thought he looked strange, but after that frightening walk and all those stories, I was terrified. It seems funny now. In fact,” she added bitterly, “I know he enjoyed scaring me into fits.” She smiled at Dr. Thatcher, who chuckled. Her guardian looked thunderstruck.

“But what about the nightmares?” he demanded angrily, pacing before the fireplace. “What about staying out all night? What about running away from home?”

“I can’t deny the nightmares,” Kate answered. She turned to the doctor. “I know they worried my poor great-aunts. They’re quite unused to the trials of parenthood. All three of my guardians are new to children, you know. And it’s true that we were away from home late last night. My aunts and Mr. Roberts decided it would be good for my nerves to walk from one house to the other in the dark. Of course, we protested quite tearfully. You have to remember the shocking Gypsy we’d met just a couple of nights before. He could have been roaming the woods. And as a matter of fact, we were chased.”

“By the goblin King,” suggested Hugh Roberts, looking over his spectacles meaningfully.

“No!” insisted Kate, frowning at him as if he were a slow pupil. “We were chased by a couple of clodhopping hu—I mean, farm boys, out for a moonlight ride. They must have been playing a joke on us. Maybe they knew you and the aunts were going to send us out on a ghost walk.” She looked at her guardian, and Dr. Thatcher did as well. Suddenly and inexplicably, Hugh Roberts’s blush deepened to a dull, unhealthy red.

“We lost them at the tree circle,” continued Kate, “and we rested there to catch our breath. It was so beautiful and peaceful there under the moon and stars.” She paused, remembering the unholy purple lightning and whipping winds. “I’m afraid we just fell asleep. When we woke up, it was so late that we went back to the Lodge because it was closer, and the aunts were already in bed. But I don’t know why you thought we tried to run away. We were just heading out on a ramble with a picnic basket.”

Dr. Thatcher turned to her guardian. “They had only a picnic basket?” he asked. “No clothes, no belongings?”

Hugh Roberts looked as if Kate had personally insulted him. “Miss Winslow, I warn you,” he said, gasping with rage. “I know you’re lying, and you know it, too. You know you believe in goblins, and you know you aren’t rational about them!” He glared at Dr. Thatcher. “She isn’t! She isn’t rational! She’s insane!”