Chapter Thirteen
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Usin’ my staff to feel the ground in front of me, and my mind’s eye to avoid obstacles, I wound my way into the center of the camp where I expected to find Ike and the goblin leader, hopefully chattin’ peacefully. I moved slowly, avertin’ my eyes from the glare of their fires so I wouldn’t be blinded to the dark, frequently panickin’ as a goblin strolled near, movin’ from one campfire to another. It took an hour to locate Ike sittin’ across a fire from two willowy, gray-haired goblins.
I snaked closer to listen, but there was little conversation. The three mostly gnawed away at their meal in silence. At least Ike was eatin’ well. Roasted venison. The slow-cooked aroma made my mouth water, my stomach growl. I squatted with my back to a clump of scrub and cogitated on what to do. Five minutes later my heart leapt when Ike in silhouette, walked straight for me. A fireball erupted in the center of my chest.
How did he see me? Why’s he makin’ them aware of me?
My terror vanished though when Ike sided up to the brush to relieve himself. I waited to see if Ike’s trip was just an excuse to speak with me, but after I waited through the unpleasantness of hunkerin’ there while the ogre urinated, Ike twisted to return to the fire.
I stood. Ike still didn’t see me in the blackness. I took a quick step and tapped his shoulder. The ogre jumped straight in the air and gasped like a hen.
It was all I could do to keep from laughin’ my pale-ogre butt off. A shout came from the fire, in a language I’d never heard before. Ike shouted back—a gaggle of syllables. Sounded like the same language.
“What the hell are ya doin’ here?” Ike hissed.
“Worried they might have spitted ya over a fire.”
“Where’s Lucas?”
“What?”
Ike waved frantically at me to speak softer, not knowin’ he stood within my ethereal wards, that dulled any noise we might make. For some devilish reason, I saw an excellent opportunity to tease the ogre. “I didn’t hear ya.”
Ike reached out and bonked me on the top of the head with his fist. The chance to tease the confident ogre was worth the terror I put myself through slinkin’ into the camp. I felt my tusks pull at my lips as my smile broadened.
“Ya gettin’ any good news from ’em?” I asked.
“They don’t speak Standish, and my Goblinish is only good enough to tell ’em to go to Hell. We pantomime and blabber a Trollish expression to make it interestin’. But they’re impressed I have a friend of their kind, and speak a few words. Don’t give ’em an excuse to distrust me. Get out of here. Please? Before we’re both spitted over a fire.” His tusks clacked against his upper teeth.
I was tempted to tease him further, but opted to simply nod and fade into the blackness. When I turned around again, Ike already sat at the fire, acceptin’ a gourd of somethin’ to drink.
We sit and wait, and he drinks grog with ’em.
Bolstered by my success thus far, I stepped more briskly to get out of the encampment. Halfway out, I nearly bumped into a goblin crossin’ the dark to another fire. How the gangly creature failed to see me is a happy conundrum, one I didn’t want to overly analyze. I just thanked the alignment of my stars, and the gods, as I stood frozen, waitin’ for the goblin to pass. Trolls are nearsighted bein’s, but see better in the dark than the light. Thankfully they aren’t more closely related to goblins.
The activity between the peaks’ saddle grew quieter. A new odor thirty feet away made me stop again. I lowered to a knee and glared into the blackness. A few more steps and I’d be back into the trees, but I waited. The moments passed. A shuffle of feet interrupted the silence. A long ten-count later a head and shoulders silhouetted against the star-lit sky. A goblin had been squattin’ against a tree doin’ his business.
Practically walked into him.
The creature neared. My skin crawled. My snout twitched at the foul aroma.
Gotta be the stupidest thin’ I’ve ever done—comin’ with these two.
The goblin trudged by me unknowin’. I got past the sentries and down the hill before it seemed I drew another breath. I leaned against my staff considerin’ all the bad thin’s that could have happened the last day. I thought of Lucas loungin’ in front of a fire somewhere below, with a troop of goblins a stone-throw away. At least Ike remained safe for the time bein’. The goblins didn’t feel threatened—not like their lone scout. My gut tensed as I thought about him.
Did he have friends who would miss him? Family?
What’s the term for goblin young? Goblies. Pups? Cubs? It’s somethin’ I should know. Perhaps it’s part of the culture of settin’ the stigma that they are evil. Ya don’t associate babes with evil, much less personify them.
I’ll ask Ike. One day.
I took a long, deep breath and turned down the hill, sniffed the air for evidence of the human. I stopped every few steps and sniffed, and listened. Wished I had an elf with me. They can hear a leaf fall on the next mountain. Odd little folk, they are. Too patient. Arrogant. Almost as bad as humans, but at least they’re a tad brighter.
Pay attention to what ya’re doin’.
I took five more steps and stopped. I told him one mile, right? No sound. No whiff of burnin’ pine. So the human chose to accept the cold. Good for him. But where is he? I pulled power from the ethereal and reached out for Lucas’ aura. There was only a weak sense of the man to the left, below. Perhaps all the goblins traipsin’ about confused the majic.
Another sight implied nothin’ sure, friend or otherwise. I followed the hint down the steepenin’ gorge. I stepped on a stick that pricked my instep. I stopped, unwillin’ to climb about any further in the blackness. Why had the human— As I considered what to do, I idly pushed about the stick I’d stepped on. It had no texture of any bark I’d ever felt. I bent over and picked it up. Ike’s bow! Dread tightened my chest. Had the man been chased? Or just a fool, stumblin’ around in the dark?
Taken captive? I would have heard.
I raised my staff and concentrated on the chasm below. Whatever trace I sensed wasn’t enough to represent a livin’ bein’.
Ohh.
I imagined Lucas lyin’ below, brains splattered across the rocks, a sight not too different from that of the goblin the afternoon before.
I swallowed away a bitter taste in my mouth. What to do? What was there to do? Nothin’ until the sun rose. It was another five hours before it would be light enough to risk makin’ way into the gully. I couldn’t risk gettin’ separated from Ike as well. While I pondered my options, I scraped at the top of my foot with the rough, bottom edge of my staff.
Come daylight, I must seek for Lucas.
I didn’t even try to hike back up the steep incline. I carefully edged to the nearest tree and sat, restin’ my back against its high side, pullin’ my staff across my lap. After a few calmin’ breaths I closed my eyes, caressed the crafted surface of the staff. It could often ease my mind. But not much now. Too many things tormented it. Nearby goblins, gorges, missin’ humans, a human witch stayin’ in my cabin, two-day hike back, tired muscles, and sore joints. Guilt for a murdered goblin. Too many thoughts.
My hand reached for my face, as though to wipe away the goblin’s blood.
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