Kimmie left the cave sometime after noon. She couldn’t take the gnawing in her stomach or the pressure in her bladder any longer. She needed to deal with some biological needs – in private – before continuing her goblin whispering.
Buka had followed her around the forest all morning, watching intently as she set up one tripwire after another, tying tiny bells to each one. About two dozen of the tripwires littered the ground in a twenty-yard radius around the cave entrance, more than enough to catch an unaware hunter, like Ollie, sneaking back to hurt her new friend. And with all the wire and bells she’d bought at the store this morning, she still had enough to make about two dozen more. That would be a good afternoon project.
She left, promising Buka that she’d return in a few hours with more food. Her trip back to the house was peppy, excited even. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt so happy before in her life. Buka hadn’t hurt her aunt and uncle. He’d been their friend. And now he was her friend. Part of her was insanely happy about that. She could rest easy about this strange thing skulking about in the woods behind her home.
But with that release came an undercurrent of anger. She now knew exactly what had happened to Auntie Belle and Uncle Rob. Her anger had a target, a real one, for the first time in years, and she knew its name.
Kranka.
She returned to the house to find it empty of everyone save the dogs, who greeted her with their customary enthusiasm, along with a lot of intrusive sniffing. She let them out into the backyard while she packed up more food and water. She debated bringing a few other things to the cave, something to spruce the place up. Something real friends might give to each other.
Weariness crept in before she could decide, and she crawled into bed for a quick nap. She woke up three hours later, at 4:35 PM. She staggered out of bed and did a quick hair check in her mirror. It would take about five or ten minutes to jog up to the cave. Another hour there, and then a jog back and it would be close to 6:30, at which point she could start getting dinner ready. Maybe a tad later than usual for her boarders, but it was still free, so who were they to complain? After dinner, she could head back out to the cave, although she might need a good excuse for being gone most of the night. She’d think of one later. She hurried over to the kitchen, let the dogs in, and packed up some food. A few minutes later, she was back on the trail.
She had debated bringing her gun with her. She had no real defense if a hunter showed up, other than her own verbal gymnastics. Or sending Buka to the back of the cave. Neither was ideal, but in the end, she’d left the gun at home. It was pointless using one against a hunter, who would be better trained, and knowing her, she’d drop it and shoot her own toe off. And it’s not like she had the guts to use a gun, anyway. Her stomach turned at the thought. She’d have to rely on her brain instead, which fortunately, usually worked out for her.
As she approached the V-shaped tree, a sense of unease flittered across her skin, like a chill in the wind. Goose bumps raced across her arms. She picked up her pace, uncomfortable at being away from the cave. Like her ability to tell when people were lying, she had an occasional sixth sense that seemed acutely aware of bad things about to come her way. Once when she was younger, she became uncontrollably anxious about her dog, Pedro, who’d escaped from the backyard. They found his body an hour later, laying on the side of the road across town, having been hit by a car. She’d been inconsolable for weeks.
It happened again in college, when she suddenly felt the need to be anywhere but inside her apartment. She left, did some grocery shopping, realized how stupid she was being, and walked back to her apartment to find a burglar hoisting her TV on his shoulder. She wasn’t sure why, but this felt the same, as if something terrible was about to happen. But not her. To Buka.
Her jogging turned into a sprint.
She reached the cave, dancing around the tripwires, to find Buka right where she left him, sitting on the ground, examining the lantern. He was perfectly fine. She smiled, out of breath from the run, and leaned on her knees.
“Hey,” she wheezed. “Guess I’m a bit out of shape.” She handed him the food she’d packed up. As he devoured the snacks, her worries faded away. She sat down to rest for a few minutes, breaking out a water bottle as she did. “Maybe I should get a golf cart,” she said between sips. “I could drive that instead of running here and back four times a day. You’d probably get a kick out of it, too.”
A bell rang in the distance.
They both turned to the entrance and froze. Kimmie waited, but no sound followed.
“Stay in here,” she whispered. She got up and tiptoed to the entrance, peeking outside at the still forest. She watched for a long time, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary, but nothing moved in the brush.
She walked outside.
“Ollie?” she called out. No answer. “Is someone out there?” Again, no answer.
The sun hung low in the sky, lengthening the shadows, but she could still see everything. An animal must have hit it. She was overreacting. She’d do a quick check of the wires and see if she could tell which one had been tripped.
She walked a spiral outward from the entrance, the same pattern she’d used to create the trip wires. She got halfway through when she heard noises coming from the cave entrance.
“Buka?” she called out, hearing no response. “Stay there!”
She jumped at the sound of footsteps crashing through the brush. Before she could make out where they came from, a strong, green-skinned arm wrapped around her stomach and another over her face, cutting off a scream.
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“Ooooh! What is this?” The breathy voice in her ear was strong, cackling. “Curious lady, I think!”
She squirmed, but the goblin was far stronger, locking her in a vice grip. It lifted her off the ground, her feet kicking wildly in the air, and carried her easily toward the cave entrance. It brought her inside, deftly maneuvering through the rock while both carrying her and covering her mouth. She sucked her lips in, nauseated by the taste of dirt and grime on the goblin’s fingers.
“I found her!” the goblin announced proudly.
Buka was still in the cave, sitting down against the wall, his head hanging in defeat. Two other goblins flanked him, lording over their prisoner. Both wore tattered pants held up with rope, but unlike Buka they sported a collection of brightly colored bracelets and bands on their arms, along with necklaces and chains around their neck. The goblin version of bling. Also unlike Buka, they carried long, curved knives sheathed through their rope belts.
One of the goblins had a pronounced forehead, with beady eyes and a somewhat flattened nose. He hovered over Buka, his hands bunched into fists, and she got the impression he’d been beating Buka only moments before. He watched her with the dissecting gaze of a sociopath.
“Where’s the other one?” he spat. “The hunter?”
She felt her captor shrug. “I only found her.”
“Alone?” The leader cocked his head at her. “All by yourself out here in this big, empty wood?”
The goblin set her down and removed its hand from her mouth. She spit a few times then wiped her face on her shoulder, getting the goblin taste out of her mouth. She faced the leader.
“It’s my wood,” she said boldly. “Err, forest.”
One of the goblin’s beady eyes widened. “Cheeky. The boss will like you.” It flexed its hands, opening them and then bunching them back into fists. “Oh, he’ll like you very much.”
“He’ll like cutting her up,” the goblin behind her said, its dank breath warm on her neck.
“She has shinies!” the third one said, waving his arm excitedly at her. This one had a bald, sloped-back head, with wide, expressive eyes, like Buka’s. However, where Buka’s hid some level of intelligence, this goblin seemed childlike, staring at everything as if seeing it for the first time.
“I see them!” the leader spat, annoyed by the interruption. “You get one later. After the boss gets his pick.”
The third one rubbed its hands together in glee.
“Do we wait for the hunter?” her captor growled.
The leader narrowed its eyes, then grunted. “No. Take her and come back for the hunter. You,” he slapped the dimwitted one, “get her, and you,” he pointed to the goblin holding her, “help me with the exile. We go to the lair. Now!”
The other two goblins switched places, with the dumber one grabbing Kimmie’s arm and immediately eyeing the bracelets. She finally got a better look at the second goblin, though, who looked similar to the leader, with beady eyes, a smushed nose, and droopy ears. Brothers?
They grabbed Buka by the arms. He squealed as they lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the cave, both of them administering a few cheap punches and loud slaps when he resisted too much. The third one dragged her along behind, gently in comparison to the others.
Once outside the cave, the goblins went east, deftly avoiding the trip wires. She frowned at how easily they’d thwarted her defenses. She needed to hide them better next time.
If there was a next time.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked.
The leader glared back at her. “To see the Boss. He owns the wood, so he’ll want to talk to you.”
“Maybe he’ll fight you for it,” the other said with a grin.
“Is Kranka the boss?”
The two lead goblins became visibly anxious. The leader smacked Buka across the back of his head. “You told her?” He grunted in annoyance. A moment later, though, he laughed. “What does it matter? Kranka mad at you. And when he sees her,” he shot a look at Kimmie, “he’ll be even more mad!”
The goblins cackled excitedly. Buka cradled his arms against his chest, his expression pained.
“Why is he mad?” Kimmie asked. She felt a need to keep the attention on her, instead of Buka. Not to mention this was her best chance to learn about the monster that killed her aunt and uncle.
The goblin holding her chuckled to himself. “Kranka always mad,” he said with a grin.
“Mad enough to kill people?” Kimmie asked. The lead goblin smirked at her.
“Kranka mad because Buka luring hunters to our woods,” he said. “Hunters we have to kill.”
Kimmie’s mouth fell open. “You’re killing the hunters?”
“We hunt hunters,” the other goblin said, a trace of satisfaction in his voice. “They kill us. We kill them.”
“If not for this one,” the leader smacked Buka’s head again, “we’d be quieter, growing our strength. Now we have to fight. Because of him!”
Buka cringed at the accusation, and Kimmie felt a pang of guilt.
“Buka didn’t bring the hunters,” she said. “I did.”
The leader made a face, like he didn’t believe her.
“It’s true! I posted articles on the… well, never mind. But it was me. Make sure to tell him that. It wasn’t Buka. It was all me. I swear. We could get my friend Ollie out here if you don’t believe me. I can even give him a call, if you want to swing by my house.”
The leader eyed her carefully. “You mean the hunter? Is that his name? Ollie?” The word sounded strange coming from the goblin’s mouth, like a sound instead of a name. She didn’t respond out of fear that she’d reveal too much. The goblin cracked a smiled. “Oh, we will bring him, too. The Boss will want to meet Ollie.”
“Ollie!” the one holding her shouted in glee.
The leader turned and swiped at the air in front of him. “Quiet!” he barked.
Kimmie’s mind raced. She didn’t think she could outrun these three goblins, but she might be able to talk her way out of this. And if that didn’t work, she always had one last trick up her sleeve… if she could remember how to do it.
“Speaking of names, do you have any? Mine’s Kimmie.”
“I am Yasa,” the goblin who caught her hissed. “Yasa the Bold!”
The lead goblin glared at Yasa, who cowered slightly. He turned his gaze on Kimmie. “You talk too much. All of you,” he looked at the others, “talk too much. I am Bagar the Brave. I am the only name you need to know until you meet Kranka the Merciful, chief of the Golak, and Destroyer of Hunters.”
He said the word Merciful as if it were a joke.
“You’re Golak? Like, original Golak?”
Bagar’s eyes narrowed into slits. He stepped closer, and Kimmie again tried to shrink into the background. He held up his long, curved blade, covered with dents and scuffs, along with specks of dried blood. A well-used weapon.
“Another word from your fleshy, pink mouth and I’ll start cutting parts of you off. Does your tiny human brain understand?”
He tapped the blade against her forehead. The color drained from Kimmie’s face. She nodded.
“Good.” He swiped at the other goblins. “Faster! I want to bring Kranka his prize before nightfall.”
After Bagar moved back to Buka, the goblin holding her arm chuckled again. “I’m Mansa,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “They call me the Wise.”
Bagar spun around, his eyes bulging. “Shut up!”
Mansa’s smiled faltered, and he glanced at Kimmie like they’d both gotten in trouble.
“You’re the nice one,” she whispered to Mansa, out of earshot of the others. He beamed back at her.