Kimmie jogged along the cluttered forest path, sucking in air to soothe the burning in her lungs. Leaves and twigs crunched under her feet, and sweat dripped down her forehead, despite the brisk autumn air. Her arm ached from shaking her bracelets over and over again to get the goblin’s attention. Not a terrible idea on Ollie’s part, but she was sure she could have thought of at least eight plans easier on her calves.

“Smell anything?”

Kimmie felt the straps of her backpack pull on her shoulder as Grika adjusted himself. He was situated inside the backpack, Yoda-style, shining a giant flashlight past her ear to help her see in the dark. Jogging at night along a narrow, twisty, circuitous forest path wasn’t the safest thing to do. And she’d done it three times now.

“Still faint.”

Kimmie slowed to a walk. Hauling around a pygmy goblin wasn’t as easy as it looked. She took several deep breaths. “I can’t believe he’s making me do this.”

“Me either,” Grika quipped. “Usually, I’m the one running around in circles.”

“He spends the last three days lecturing me about how dangerous goblins are,” she wiped the sweat from her forehead, “and then he says ‘You like running into danger, now you’ll do it for real. I’m gonna use you as bait!’”

“He’s a big jerk,” Grika agreed. “And he’s cheap, too. Don’t let him off the hook for that.” The flashlight bobbed up and down as Grika made his point.

“He probably shaved just to get me to agree to this. Just because I’m a sucker for smooth skin doesn’t mean he can take advantage of me. ‘Oooh, I’m handsome and I have a vague, sorta-maybe kind of plan,’” she said mockingly. “And then he sends me out to lure this thing with these.” She whipped the bracelets on her wrist, eliciting a loud jingle. “I hope he’s on Yelp, because if this thing goes bad, I’ll be leaving him a pretty scathing review of his hunting services.”

“Wait, that’s a thing?” Grika asked, suddenly interested. “Can I do that, too?”

“Oh yeah. If it’s just me, I look like a whiner. Two bad reviews and it’s a pattern.” She took a few more deep breaths, then leaned over a little bit to stretch her sore back. She wasn’t used to carrying around so much weight. At least not since hauling around a backpack full of giant textbooks in college. “You know, for a partner, you two are kind of… hostile.”

“Well, you spend three years cooped up in a car with that guy and see how friendly you’d be.”

Kimmie pursed her lips. Grika sounded mad, but not really mad. Almost like it was an act.

“Can I ask, you know, how this happened?”

“How we happened, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Grika sighed, probably debating whether to say anything. Those two had been tight-lipped when it came to any kind of interesting information.

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“I was bound to his mother.”

She glanced back at him. “Bound?”

“Aye. She caught me. And instead of killing me, she used a spell to make me do whatever she asked. Happens a lot to my kind.” She felt him shrug. “Wasn’t so bad. All I had to do was spy on other goblins. In return, I got food, a place to stay, and protection from the goons. We pygmies spend a lot of our time hiding from the bigger goblin folk. And she was always nice to me. That ragger of a husband, not so much. But she was nice. Kinda like you.”

“So, she knew magic?”

“Aye,” he said, a hint of awe in his voice. “Was good at it, too. One of the best, they say.”

Kimmie thought back to Ollie’s warning about the perils of magic. Had that happened to his mom?

“How did you end up with Ollie, then?”

“Mom died. When that happens the spell passes down the bloodline. When jerkface left home, I went with him.” He clicked his tongue. “He’s a cheap little bugger, but I still get fed every once in a while. And it woulda been way worse with his even more jerkface dad. That guy’s a real piece of trow dung.”

Kimmie leaned against a nearby tree. “How did his mom die?”

“Ehhhhh,” Grika squeaked, then went quiet.

“Sorry,” Kimmie said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, girlie.” He patted her shoulder. “It’s not a secret, just not something either of us likes to talk about. Hard for me to talk about, too. I liked the lass.” He took a deep breath. “She died hunting. It happens.”

“Goblins killed her?”

“A goblin killed her. A crone. Same one his dad has been hunting all this time.”

Kimmie’s angst faded away. “I know what that’s like,” she whispered. Suddenly, Ollie and his family had a lot more in common with her than she realized.

Something glittered at the edge of her vision. She stepped across the path and leaned over to see something small and shiny lying on the ground. Grika shone the flashlight on it, revealing a piece of jewelry, a broach, with what had to be a giant fake diamond at the center.

“What the…?” She reached for it.

“Don’t touch that!” Grika hissed in her ear.

She snapped her hand back. “What is it?”

“It’s a trap.” Grika’s head swiveled left and right. “From some other hunter.”

Kimmie searched the darkness for the telltale signs of a snare. Grika swung the flashlight across the ground, then over to the nearby tree trunk. That’s when she saw the wire meant to catch unsuspecting prey. And not regular wire.

Razor wire. Sharp. Dangerous. Lethal.

“Oh my God.” Kimmie backed away slowly, suddenly worried that other traps might be nearby. Traps she couldn’t see yet. “That can slice off a hand!”

“Probably from the other hunter poaching on your land.”

“This is awful.” She looked around the edges. “How do I, you know, disable it?”

“Disable it?” he nearly shrieked. “I wouldn’t go near it!”

Kimmie looked up and down the path. “I can’t leave it here! Someone can get killed.”

Grika sighed. “Get a big rock, stand far away, and then throw it at the trap.”

“Right.” Kimmie backed away and checked the ground for a big rock. She found one, about the size of her palm, and heaved it, shot put style, toward the trap. It hit the ground and bounced past the bait. An instant later the trap snapped up, the razor wire whipping through the air. Kimmie ducked, her heart racing despite being far enough away that it couldn’t reach her.

She inhaled sharply. “Forget my hand. That could have taken my head off!”

“Welcome to my life,” Grika said dryly. “Hunters are sadistic. You have any idea what they’d do if they caught me? My eyes would be in a potion, my skin ground into a powder, my heart would be a snack. They’d shave my locks and use it as–” Grika paused, then sniffed the air. He lowered his voice. “He’s here.”

Kimmie froze, then looked around frantically. “Where?”

Grika pointed over her shoulder, slightly to her left. “That way,” he whispered. “Not close, but not far.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means exactly what I said!” He sniffed again. “It’s getting stronger.”

Kimmie’s breathing picked up. “What do I do?”

Grika made an exasperated sound. “Run, girlie! Run!”