Kimmie paced around the cave again, annoyed by the fact that she could only take four or five steps in any direction. That wasn’t pacing. It was ping pong, with her as the ball.
She hadn’t meant to bring up his mom. That was a low blow, and a violation of the ‘no talking about parents’ pact. But she’d been desperate, and she wasn’t about to apologize for standing up for herself. Even if it put her in a tough spot.
She turned to the dejected goblin, who looked over its shoulder with some obvious measure of confusion. She only now started to grasp what she’d gotten herself into. She was standing in a cave, alone, with a goblin, the same goblin that accosted her five months ago, and killed her aunt and uncle over two years ago. This thing had caused her all manner of grief, but for some reason she was more frustrated about Ollie’s attitude than anything else.
“Sorry about all this.”
She scowled, suddenly upset with herself for apologizing to the cowering beast in front of her. The goblin didn’t respond. Not that she expected it to. She exhaled, then shook her arms, the movement helping her relax. She paced again, only this time she kept her eyes on the goblin. It faced sideways, its eyes searching out everything in the cave other than her. She noticed it tense up when it looked at the gas can.
“The gas scares you?” she asked.
The goblin looked away, then gave a slight nod of his head. Kimmie walked over and picked up the container. She moved the can to the entrance, leaving it on the far side of a bend in the rock, then stepped back into the cave.
“Now you don’t have to stare at it.”
She looked at the shackles, and she felt terrible for leaving it chained up when it only had one day left to live. It was a cruel thing to do, and–
She grunted and shook her head. Why wasn’t she furious at this thing? Here she was, more worried about this goblin’s welfare and well-being than about finally finding justice for her family. What kind of monster was she?
Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put it into words, but this entire situation had turned wonky. Maybe the magic that knocked her out last night was still clouding her mind. She needed to shake off the effects. Lay down. Get some sleep. Then she could tackle this goblin problem.
She moved back toward the entrance. “I’ll come back,” she said as she slowly made her way out of the cave.
The goblin returned to its time-out, staring at the back of the cave. An overwhelming sadness filled her soul, and she wanted to do something for it. Anything. But she fought that instinct. She would keep it alive, but she wouldn’t feel sorry for it. Ollie was right. Goblins were evil. And this one was the worst of them all.
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Now all she had to do was convince herself of that.
*
Ollie found Grika lounging on the ground where they’d left him, his belly slightly rounder than normal and the bag of burgers sitting protectively in the crook of his arm. One of the pygmy’s eyes opened into a slit.
“All done?” he asked.
Ollie made a face and shook his head. He walked through the clearing, not even waiting. Grika belched, then hopped up and followed, his brown bag skipping across the ground next to him.
“What happened? Did you lose it again?”
“Kimmie happened,” Ollie nearly shouted. “We cornered it, shackled it to a tree root, got it to admit that it killed her aunt and uncle, and then she decides she wants one more day to talk to it. I’m guessing so she can clear her conscience, or something stupid like that.”
“Women.” Grika shook his head. “They be trippin’.”
Ollie stopped and wheeled on the surprised pygmy.
“Did you talk to her about my mom?”
Grika froze. “Uhhhhh.” His panicked eyes searched the forest for an escape route. Ollie snatched the bag from Grika’s little hands. “Hey!” Ollie stalked off down the path. Grika chased after him. “That’s mine!”
“Not anymore. You’re grounded.”
“I earned those burgers! You know I did!”
“And then you lost them by opening your big mouth.”
“My big mouth?” Grika huffed. “This from the guy who springs her on me the first day he meets her? What happened to ‘Hide under the tarp, Grika’ or ‘Get in the cat carrier, Grika’? You don’t let other hunters see me, but with her you swing that door wide open and say, ‘Here he is! The Hauk family goblin.’”
“Clearly a mistake on my part.”
“What does it matter what I told her?” Grika said, even more agitated. “She died while hunting the Goblin King. Every hunter in the world knows that. You can tell her about me, but she can’t know that?”
Ollie said nothing.
“You’re not the only one sad that she’s gone. I liked her, too. Maybe I am a slave or a pet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to feel bad that she’s dead. Everyone in this family thinks it’s somehow their fault. Even little Evie couldn’t handle it, and she was all of seven years old at the time. But none of you was bound to her! It may have happened by magic, but you can’t understand the connection that’s there once it exists. What we have, kiddo, it’s nothing compared to my bond with her. That kind of thing doesn’t go away easily. So, don’t pretend that I need your permission to talk about her!”
Ollie slowed, then stopped. He heard Grika waiting behind him, panting with fury. He was right, of course. Ollie wasn’t mad at him for talking. He was mad at Kimmie for saying it.
He tossed the bag into Grika’s waiting arms. “Take your stupid burgers.”
He continued his walk down the path. Grika followed, the bag crinkling loudly in the still night.
“She used it against me. That’s why I was mad.”
“Well, she is a smart lass.”
“She’s dangerous is what she is. And… unlucky.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it. Something about her screams bad luck. This whole thing is going to go bad, and it’ll be her fault. Mark my words. She’ll screw this up.”
He could feel Grika’s frown on his back. “That’s harsh words, kiddo.”
Ollie grumbled in reply. It probably was harsh, but that didn’t make it less true. Something would go wrong, and it would be because Kimmie didn’t have it in her to be a real hunter. To make the tough call.
To be cold.
He winced. Now he was thinking like his dad. And that was rarely a good sign.