They found Brom at his home, refletching some arrows. The normally cheerful man cursed when he heard about the goblins.

“It is worse than you think,” Brom said, rushing to gather his things. “Jommy said a couple days ago that he saw a small group closer to his house. If they are from the same queen…” the old hunter shuddered letting the remaining words go unspoken.

“The possibility of a flood bearer already crossed my mind,” Uncle replied watching the old hunter readying himself for a trip. “Your words just confirm my fears. Do you know how close that group was to Jommy’s house?”

“Half an hour easy walk,” Brom replied taking a quick inventory of his gathered effects. “He had his girls with him, so he could not follow the goblins at the time. He said their trial was destroyed by the rain between his home and here. I assumed they were at the edge of their range.”

Uncle repeated Brom’s obscenity from earlier, “How did they get so close? We should have seen them earlier.”

“How do you want to do this?” The older hunter looked between Orn and his uncle.

“We have too much ground to cover. Start with Jommy. They goblins were first seen closer to his home, and the ones we just saw headed back that direction. After he knows, work your way out. Kojar should be still near the warehouse with the trade group. I will get them and meet you at Jommy’s. If you can thin their numbers, great, but wait for me to come back with the others before you push hard.”

Brom nodded and raced into the woods.

Orn shifted his pack and looked at his uncle. “What do I do?”

Uncle flinched at his question. “I need you to go into Brom’s house, and bar the doors and windows.”

“But I can...” Orn began only to be stopped by his uncle’s sharp gesture.

“You are not fast enough to keep ahead of them, and there is every possibility they could already be behind us.” He patted Orn on the shoulder before turning him to face the cottage door, “No matter how much I want to bring you, I cannot risk it. You will be much safer in there.”

Orn’s shoulders slumped. Despite all his efforts and improvements, in the end, he was still just dead weight.

“Orn, look at me.” Uncle said in a sharp tone, which quickly softened “I only have bad choices right now. If I take you with me it will add almost a day to the trip and put you in danger. The goblins are probably already in the woods around us. If you stay here and keep quiet, they will leave you be. The cottage walls are too thick to for them to get in. There are also still animals nearby, and they will chase them rather than trying to get to you. They will pass by as long as you stay inside and keep quiet. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Orn did his best to sound calmer than her felt. He is scared, very scared.

The pained look on his uncle's face deepened. “While I am gone, stay in Brom’s house. Bar the door and windows, barricade them even. But do not open them or start a fire for any reason. Do you understand me?”

Orn nodded and headed toward the hut. “I will. Be careful.”

Uncle smiled at Orn’s concern, “I will be back in a couple days, three at the latest. If you feel bored finish refletching that bundle of arrows Brom has. Goddess knows we will probably need them.”

“I will bar the door, and I will not come out until you are here,” Orn replied, slowly closing the door.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

From outside he heard his Uncle’s muffled words. “Stay safe boy.”

…

Orn walked around the small cabin barring the shutters over the holes that passed for windows. The boards that propped them open, fell easily into the grooves that held them closed. After closing them both, Orn looked around the darkened space.

There was not much in the cabin. To be honest, it was more of a one room hut than a true cabin. At barely fifteen feet across the space seemed a bit claustrophobic with the door and windows shut.

The small space also meant it did not take Orn long to barricade the door with the few things he could move. The barrel of rainwater was on the opposite wall was full and too heavy to move. The only other heavy things were a small bed-frame and a stack of firewood by the wall.

Orn he dragged it to the door. Sleeping in another person’s bed would have felt strange to him anyway. He then stacked the split firewood on it. Finding nothing else to barricade the door with, he sat on the floor and looked around in the deepening gloom. Now what am I supposed to do?

[At the loom]

“Prefect, he is alone. “Clo said tracing a thread with her finger to where the cloth met the treads on the loom.

“Finally.” Atr replied impatience in her voice. “It has been difficult to arrange the pattern to give food for the monsters, while keeping them hidden from the hunters.”

“Yes, Atr,” Lac said looking at her sister. “it must have been very difficult for you. Sending me to find monsters invisible on the loom. Then there were all those threads Clo had to nudge and shift to keep the growing horde fed.”

“Now, now,” Clo said as her sisters glared daggers at each other. “The pieces are set and he is in the trap, so we need only wait. “

The three turned their attention to the tapestry. Clo gently ran the nail of her index finger against a tattered thread, and slammed the beater into the fabric. The force of her actions caused the thread to snap.

As the thread gave out, a sick tree died. The rain soaked ground was too heavy for the now dead roots to hold, and it fell over. Its collapse occurred with many others, but the failing of this tree collapsed the roof a small cavern below. The goddesses knew the fall would crush several goblins, but the mother was too large to be killed this way. A handful of goblins more or less would not change the result.

Clo budged another thread.

A bird launched itself from the bush, startled by a goblin far from the collapsed nest. Almost blind with hunger, the creature gave chase.

Clo felt tension appear in the fabric with the shifts in fate. It is small, but it is there. How many years will it take to smooth these out?

Clo nudged another thread and a rabbit flinched in the bushes. The fabric tightened again, and Clo had to fight the urge to curse. That was worse than I expected. That one hurt.

Clo tried to sooth the pain in her soul by repeating that it was for a greater purpose.

In the forest, the goblin had lost the bird, but heard the rustling in the bush. Dropping to all fours in hopes of closing the distance, it scrambled toward the sound.

Too close. Clo felt the fabric, that is it, anymore and I will overstretch it.

The rabbit barely escaped the reaching claws by throwing itself down its burrow. The rabbit could hear the goblin tearing at the entrance behind it and rushed for the deepest part of its burrow.

“That should work.” Clo said staring at the loom. Through the rabbit's thread she could tell the goblin was tiring.

Realizing the rabbit was too far down to easily reach, the goblin began searching the area around it. A faint odder on a broken twig caught its attention. It smelled a different kind of prey, something that called to the darkness within it. Raising its head, it called out to its kin.