When the shock wore off, Grandma Lyn picked up her new grandchildren and carried them outside the tent. “Stay out here,” she instructed, “and don’t worry about a thing.”

Minz followed them out, planting herself solidly in front of the opening to ensure the kids wouldn’t slip back in. Fin and Fig shared a nervous look as they watched Evelyn disappear back inside. She was doomed.

Under the deplorable heat of the tent, the new grandma sat with the village council, knees creaking as she lowered herself to the floor. People had never been her strong point. Her nickname, Evelyn the Fierce, had been given to her not only for her ferocious skill in battle, but also due to her intimidating presence that often left people weak in the knees. Many years ago she had a party member, a charismatic young man named Gibson, who had taught her everything she knew about how to be charming. As Evelyn faced the council, she remembered his lessons.

Step one: smile. She had already made a critical error by forgetting to manage her expression when she had first come in. Sitting here for the second time, she corrected that mistake, flashing her teeth in the most dazzling smile she could muster up.

Step two: eye contact. According to Gibson, the eyes were the windows to the souls. You must maintain eye contact and allow the person you’re talking with to see the sincerity in your gaze. Before, Evelyn had been distracted by the unfamiliar surroundings and the chaos of the children. This time, she made sure to look Klum in the eyes, maintaining her steady gaze as she went through her mental checklist of steps.

Step three: flattery. Her third mistake had been to call their village shabby. Evelyn had always been a firm believer that honesty was the best policy and appreciated when people treated her in kind. Contrary to her own beliefs, however, Gibson had always been frustrated by this tendency. According to him, most people preferred empty praise, “a kind lie over a harsh truth,” as he had said. Casting about for something to compliment them on, Evelyn settled on something that had honestly impressed her: the guards’ pachlyn skull helmets.

“Your guards have nice skulls,” she said through her toothy grin. Three steps in and already she could feel the council’s temperament change. Their faces were no longer flushed with rage, but rather were wide-eyed with what Evelyn could only assume was shocked delight. She was pretty sure she could skip steps four and five.

Meanwhile, the faces of the five council members that sat opposite her had indeed paled considerably. The council leader watched in horror as this monstrous human stared him down, teeth bared like a wolf ready to pounce. He was certain his life would be forfeit if he refused whatever she asked of him.

Klum cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the fear that had wedged itself in there before finally speaking. “The twins seem fond of you.”

“Yes. They want me to stay here.”

“W-well I, that is it’s, it’s not, uh –” He cleared his throat again as he tried to organize his thoughts. When the human suddenly grabbed something from her belt and lurched towards him, he flinched back instinctively.

“Water. For your throat.” Evelyn could not understand how anyone could hold a normal conversation while focusing so much on managing their facial expressions and maintaining such intense eye contact.

Wait, was she even smiling properly? Showing teeth was supposedly the most charming way of smiling, but didn’t Gibson tell her she had to smile with her eyes too or else it would be creepy? She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to smile more effectively only to realize that she hadn’t been paying attention to what the council leader was saying. Crap, she was really bad at people.

“What did you say?” she asked, hoping they wouldn’t be too upset with her for being distracted.

The council flinched and leaned instinctively away from Klum, who was now sweating profusely. “Ah, it’s, you know… Well, I’m sure it’s fine actually…”

“Are you saying I can stay?”

“So, the tents… the tents are quite small. Is that…?”

“It’s fine, I’m used to harsh conditions.” Now that she was paying attention, Evelyn found herself relieved that this council leader was evidently just as bad at people as she was.

“Ahh, in that case, I suppose there’s nothing more to discuss…”

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At that, Evelyn bowed her head, both in thanks and to hide the tears that were starting to form at the corners of her eyes, though whether they came from happiness or an accumulation of anxiety, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, however, was how relieved she was to be able to allow her face to settle into its neutral state, not to mention being able to stretch her legs, which had grown stiff from sitting in such an awkward position. She left the tent, finding her new grandchildren outside right where she had left them. Fin and Fig, who had been able to overhear the whole conversation, grinned as she exited, hopping up and down from the uncontainable excitement of youth.

She scooped them up, one in each arm, before turning to address Minz. “I have been adopted,” she said, the tightness in her throat betraying her emotions.

The warrior nodded, unsure what to make of the situation. No human had ever been adopted into a goblin village, at least not that she had ever heard of. It had the potential to be disastrous, but the twins were happier than she had seen them in a while.

“We’ll need to set up a tent for you,” she said, eyes already darting around, looking for a suitable place.

“Actually, do you know if there’s a cabin nearby?” Evelyn asked.

“A cabin? We don’t have – wait, do you mean the one by the lake?”

“A lake? Maybe… It could’ve been big enough to be a lake I guess. The cabin was a bit run down last time I came through here.”

Fin traded an alarmed glance with his brother. “Isn’t that place haunted?”

Minz nodded, her expression grave. “That’s where we had first started building the village. We had to abandon it after the first night there. Something about that place isn’t natural.”

“What do you mean; what happened?” asked Evelyn. There hadn’t been anything suspicious about the cabin the last time she went through there.

The warrior tapped her fingers on the shaft of her spear as she recalled the events that had led them to set up in their current vulnerable position. “We had temporary shelters like these set up while we were building –”

“Fin and I were in the cabin with the kids and the old folks,” Fig interjected.

Minz nodded. “It was leaky, but sturdier than these,” she gestured around at the disheveled lean-tos. “I was on guard that night. The sun had just set –”

“We hadn’t even fallen asleep yet,” this time it was Fin who interrupted, “and all of a sudden it got super cold. We could see our breath, that’s how we knew it was a ghost.”

“Thankfully no one got hurt,” Minz continued, “but all the work we had done on the buildings during the day was demolished.”

“Demolished how?” Evelyn had never heard of a ghost that targeted buildings but left people untouched.

“Burned,” Fin answered.

“To a crisp,” finished Fig.

“To ash, more like,” Minz corrected. “We were lucky that everyone was sleeping in the temporary shelters.”

“What about the people in the cabin? Weren’t they attacked?”

“Actually, no. The cabin wasn’t touched at all.”

Evelyn frowned, weighing what she had been told against her own admittedly fuzzy memories of the cabin. The situation was getting stranger and stranger. But still, if she could figure out what had happened there, everyone would benefit. Evelyn would be able to fix up the cabin as she had intended, and the goblins would be able to move their village to where they had intended. Best of all, she would be able to stay close to her grandkids without being a burden on the village. Everybody wins.

Her mind made up, Evelyn set the twins down. “I’ll take care of it,” she announced before turning on her heel and marching off into the forest.

“Wait!” A shout came from behind her, and before she could make it very far the twins were in front of her, grabbing onto her legs to stop her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort this out in no time,” she assured them.

Fig snorted, rolling his eyes. “How are you gonna figure it out when you’re going the wrong way? You didn’t even wait for directions.”

“And we’re coming too!”

“No. It could be dangerous. Won’t your parents worry?”

Fig crossed his arms and huffed. “Our parents are dead. And we adopted you, so you can’t just go off without us.”

Orphans? A wave of emotions hit Evelyn at this revelation: shock, guilt, pity, anxiety. How had their parents died? Were they killed by humans? Was that why they had been so timid when they first saw her? Would it really be okay for her to stay here? How had they been getting by until now? Perhaps most important: could she handle the responsibility of raising two children by herself?

Flustered, she cast a questioning glance at Minz, who had been watching the exchange from a short distance away.

The warrior shrugged. “You’re their family now; it’s up to you whether or not to take them.”

“We’ll go together,” Fin declared. “We can show you the way so you don’t get lost.”

“You’ve got some time until sunset,” said Minz. “You should be fine if you go now. And it’ll give me a chance to warn the rest of the village that we’ll have a human around.”

Evelyn frowned. Would her first act as a grandmother really be to bring her kids into danger? But what were the village’s chances of survival if she didn’t figure out this ghost problem?

Reluctantly, she nodded. “We’re coming back here before the sun sets.”

She needed to solve this without endangering them. All she could do now was her best.