So much for a relaxing time with the goblins I guess. It looks like I’m being drafted into service after all. But what of the king?

“Princess Vestra,” I say as diplomatically as I can before her green hotness. “I appreciate your people and the kindness they have shown to me. If I was asked to help I would do so but your king was very specific in his instructions.”

Vestra glowers at the mention of her father. “We just have to convince him”

I think back to my conversation with him. “Is he a man amenable to convincing?”

She smacks her fist into her palm. “He’ll listen if we come together. You, me, your companions, my allies.”

“You have allies?”

Vestra puts her hands on her hips. “There are those in the nobility and military who understand. Who are done with the endless pursuit of order and blind faith. We will go before my father together. He’ll have to listen then.”

That’s a plan I guess. I guess there’s also the possibility that he says no. And there’s also the possibility that I don’t agree with this whole idea.

Who am I to interfere with their internal politics? And what if the king is right and Vestra is wrong? Or the king finds out and revokes his offer of assistance? How would I get to the tower then?

The princess scoots closer to me, her nipples brushing against my chest. She’s not sexual though. She’s also not graceful or elegant like Luna. It’s more power and confidence, like she could run through a brick wall if she felt like it.

Which is its own kind of turn-on in a way.

”I can tell you doubt,” says the princess. “So let me show you.”

She turns back to the cactus pot and I admire her ass as leans over into it.

And I thought my high school prom queen was hot.

She emerges with a black shawl that she drapes over her body. I’m both relieved and sad as the ass disappears from view.

“Come with me,” she says.

I gesture to her clothes. “You’re walking around with just the shawl?”

She looks down. “I don’t usually wear this much but we’re going to the lower levels and it will be more appropriate down there. I may even be under-dressed if you can believe it.”

Oh I believe it.

I’m still not sure I’m up for this.

She turns at the door, and does a low curtsey. “Sir Ethan. Please just give me a chance. That’s all I ask.”

A chance. How many times had I felt the same way? A chance at college? A chance with a girl? None of that had come my way. I’d never gotten a chance until I came here.

“Alright,” I say. “Let’s go.”

I follow Vestra out the door and in a direction I haven’t been before. It’s less trafficked this way, with only a handful of nobles populating the smooth tunnels before us. The princess attracts far more attention than I do strangely enough, as goblins scowl and whisper surreptitiously as we pass.

Maybe they heard about her father’s dismissal. Maybe her outfit is insufficiently skanky. Or maybe they just don’t like her.

We arrive at the end of a tunnel and stand before a small, short door – shorter than even a goblin would like. The princess reaches into her shawl and withdraws a key.

“They show you the chute yet?” she asks me.

“The chute? No, I don’t think so.”

The princess gingerly puts the key into the lock and turns. “A gift from the dwarves. Or so I’m told. From before –”

“The War of the Magi,” I complete the sentence for her. It’s like the turning point of this world, that twist between one era and the next. I wonder if the sorceress will be another, if people will talk about the time’ before’ and the time ‘after’ Lillian.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Depends on whether we win or lose I guess.

Behind the door is an Indiana Jones movie. Complete with mine shaft, tracks, and mine cart. Well, the cart is a little bigger anyway so more like a mine trolley I guess.

“The chute lets us move faster through the mountain,” says Vestra. “Pity there’s only this one car left. Maybe one day, if I ever rule, we can get over our prejudices and start having open dealings the dwarves again.”

“If you ever rule? Why wouldn’t you rule?” I ask.

But the princess doesn't answer. She starts talking with the goblins before her. They appear to be standing in front of the controls for the cart. The discussion turns a little heated before they eventually nod and acquiesce.

“They don’t want me to go to the front,” the princess says, “but I insisted. My repudiation is already sliding downhill. May as well go all the way.”

“To the front? That’s what you meant by showing me. But I thought the battle hadn’t started yet.”

“You’ll see enough,” Vestra responds.

We clamber into the mine trolley and the goblin operator shifts a few levers. With a squeak and a tremble the trolley starts off along its track. We are going downhill so the gravity pushes us along to some extent. There are also two thick chains that run along the length of either side of the trolley. Like bicycle chains that loop through gears that pull us through the ancient shaft.

“Impressive,” I say.

“Like I said, it’s all the dwarves. I bet we even used drawven tools to hollow out the shaft.”

“You mean goblins didn’t do this.”

The princess laughs. “Oh I’m sure we provided the muscle. Goblin men are nothing if not muscular. But the dwarves were the brains behind our operations, much as we hate to admit it. We think we’re so smart because the orcs are so dumb but we’ve nothing on the dwarves. And now the orcs aren’t so dumb anymore. So where does that leave us, eh?”

“Better than the humans at least. They don’t even have a kingdom left.”

Vestra’s space drops. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. Apologies, Sir Ethan. I know I must sound like a brat to you. Ungrateful, as my father likes to say.”

“Hey,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “We all whine. And you can just call me Ethan, alright. I mean you're a freaking princess already. You shouldn’t ‘sir’ me all the time.”

The princess’s tough faces softens just a bit and she smiles at me. “I think you underestimate your importance but I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you.”

She comes a little closer to me as we sit on our wooden bench trundling along through the Temple of Doom.

“You know,” she says. “When I was a child I was always fascinated with the world outside, the world beyond the mountains. I wanted to visit the dwarves, the humans, the elves. Everyone that I read about in books. But my father always told me to focus here, on the mountains. He said if we made the mountains great the world would come to us. I just thought he was jealous. That he didn’t want me to see how great the others were for fear I wouldn’t appreciate my own.”

I’m not sure what to say. “The goblins do have a reputation for being reclusive,” I muster.

Vestra rolls her eyes. “That doesn't surprise me at all. If we survive the orcs I want to change all that.”

“Survive?” I ask. “That sounds downright dire.”

“That’s cause it is,” Vestra says intently. There’s something about those eyes. The demon’s red eyes always seemed so seductive to me, but Vestra’s are straight fire. An unblemished passion.

Goblin blood runs hot they say.

I wonder what she’s like in bed.

Stop. Not that again. You have work to do.

Plus there’s still Luna. If I still want a shot with her. I reach down and grasp the purple necklace around my neck. The stones still glisten in the torchlight of the shaft.

Such a worthy gift. Such a worthy girl.

“Are you there?” The voice is distant in my head.

“I’m here,” I reply. “Sorry I zoned out for a minute.”

Vestra blinks. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t?”

“Maybe you heard the other goblins.” There is a loud squeak and a crunch. “We’ve arrived.”

Sure enough the trolley has stopped. Goblins are opening the gate for us and we disembark onto a narrow ledge. Looking down it seems like the shaft travels quite a bit farther.

The princess follows my gaze. “Everything further down has been lost to the orcs. And at the rate they’re going this station will soon be as well. Let’s hurry.”

I follow the princes out of the chute and am greeted by sheer chaos, or at least as chaotic as goblins can be. Soldiers are running everywhere, back and forth through tunnels yelling instructions and urging others forward. An archer greets Princess Vestra with an abbreviated bow.

“What’s the news, Kabaret?”

The goblin’s voice is deep as usual but also uncommonly smooth, almost soothing. “The defenses are holding, but only barely. We must meet the others, highness. Before things disintegrate further.”

The princess throws me a quick look. “Does that sound like a status ripe for counter-offensive?”

I scratch my head. “Ugh, didn’t the king say he was sending the entire army?.”

“The whole army’s already here, Ethan! What does he think has been going on down here? That’s what I’d like to go.”

“Highness,” says the archer. “We must go.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To plot our salvation, Ethan. If the Maker won’t deliver us we must save ourselves.”