They walked for a long time through the forest, long enough that the sun dipped below the western hills, throwing the world into darkness. Kimmie couldn’t make heads or tails of where they were going, but the goblins marched ahead with confidence. She reckoned they’d traveled two or three miles southeast from her house, which would lead them to some point due south from Ferndale. Which meant they could be anywhere in the vast expanse of wildlife.
Fear gripped her bones with each step. She still didn’t have a plan, at least not a great one. If she couldn’t come up with something better than ‘distract the goblins and run away’ then this was very likely her death march. She’d wanted closure, and now she was about to get it at the end of a claw.
A small totem caught her attention, hanging from a nearby tree branch. She assumed it was Native American in origin, but as they passed by, she got a better look, and realized it was too savage to be made by human hands. Someone had taken a section of thin branch, about a foot long, and carved rough, scowling faces in the wood, like the kind a third grader would make. Animal teeth poked out from the limb, surrounded by dried blood or discolored wood. Carved at the top was the Golak sign, the inverted V, which she suspected to be a symbol of a mountain.
Another totem rested against a tree trunk a few paces beyond the last one. This one was bigger, thicker, with larger faces and bigger teeth. The totems must be markers, signifying that they were entering goblin lands. Or more explicitly, Kranka’s domain.
Another few paces and they passed a pile of rocks that seemed too orderly to be natural. And then another. Signs of some sort of goblin construction project? Eventually, they reached an embankment that dipped down and then back around, and Kimmie realized this was the entrance to another cave. One that had been dug out by goblin hands.
Bagar led them into the blackness, and Kimmie stumbled a few times on slick rocks. If Mansa hadn’t been holding her arm, she’d have fallen on her butt more than once. Eventually, voices echoed down the passageway, mixed with high-pitched, cackling shrieks and the tapping of nails on stone. Her stoic façade melted, along with any curiosity she’d had about goblins. Fear morphed into terror, and she pulled against Mansa’s grip, desperate to be anywhere else but here. He yanked her forward, her attempts to escape trivial to him.
They came around a bend, and the passageway went from black to orange. Another bend revealed the source of the light – torches jabbed into cracks in the wall. Panic overtook her, and she worried about everything she’d left behind. How long would it be before anyone knew she was dead? Would they find her body in the woods, days later? Who would take care of the dogs? Who would tell her boarders?
They entered a lair at least ten times the size of Buka’s, and that was only the part she could see. Three different passageways snaked off from the room, sloping downward into who knew what. The décor was the same as Buka’s cave, only on steroids. Hundreds of small trinkets, spare parts, toys and bits of trash lay scattered across the floor or in piles, some of them on top of a few ratty, stained rugs. Streaks of charcoal and paint covered the walls in random patterns, although a few looked like actual pictures of something Kimmie couldn’t quite make out. She’d have spent more time trying to decipher it, however, if two dozen goblins hadn’t suddenly started eyeing her like starving tigers stalking their next meal. They hopped to their feet and circled around, hissing and muttering at the sight of a human in their home.
Bagar pushed one goblin out of the way. “Back, cur! This one’s for the boss!”
“She has shinies!” Mansa announced. He held up Kimmie’s arm and a few goblins leaned in closer. A few even reached out for her before getting smacked away by Bagar and Yasa.
Kimmie caught sight of three goblins lying on mats at the back of the lair. Two of them were unconscious, their chests covered in blood spatters, but still breathing. She saw what appeared to be large bullet holes in their torsos. The third had somehow gotten its arm sliced clean off.
Next to the injured goblins was a small pile of bones. She had no idea if they were human or goblin, but sitting on top of the pile were two very obviously human skulls. She shuddered and wrapped her free arm around her chest.
“BAGAR!”
A voice boomed through the small cavern, and all the shrieks, hisses, and cries of the pack immediately ceased. Kimmie spun around to see another goblin emerging from one of the side tunnels. Only this was a far different sort of creature than the rest of the pack.
It was like a goblin, with green skin, and narrowed yellow eyes that hid little of their owner’s desires. But it was almost two feet taller than the others, with broad shoulders, long and muscular arms, thick legs, and a smooth head. It towered over the other goblins, who all bowed their heads in subservience to this primal creature.
This hobgoblin.
He wore pants like the other goblins, but they were tighter and less frayed at the edges. Studded leather bracers wrapped around his wrists, like a stereotypical biker might wear. A primitive spear point hung from a leather strap around his neck. Like the totem, it felt primitive. Animalistic. He had no other adornments or jewelry, which only made him appear bigger and scarier.
“What have you brought me?” he asked. His voice was deep and resonant, full of authority, and maybe even a bit of charm.
Bagar hunched his back in a bow that seemed more submissive than respectful. “The girl, Kranka, the one with the hunter. We found her and brought her back, along with the exile, so you can,” he grinned, “punish them. We will go and find the hunter, if that’s what pleases you.”
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Kranka fixed his eyes on Kimmie, exhaling slowly. He stepped closer, a curious expression on his face. Her hands trembled as he came closer, and she squeezed them into fists.
“You smell,” he sniffed, “familiar.”
“Must be my deodorant,” she said, chattering nervously. “It’s pretty popular stuff. I’m sure all the crones use it, too.”
The hobgoblin sniffed again, this time in amusement.
Mansa held up Kimmie’s arm, bowing his head as he did. “She has shinies, boss. Bagar said we could have them, after you get yours.”
Kranka grunted. “Take them,” he said, his eyes never leaving Kimmie’s face. “Your reward for bringing me… this.”
Mansa pawed at her bracelets, but he had trouble getting them off her arm. Eventually, she took them off herself and gave them to Mansa, who held them in his hand like precious diamonds. Three other goblins rushed forward to grab them, prying at Mansa’s clenched fists. They easily overpowered him, pulling them from his grip. When he realized he’d lost all the bracelets, Mansa dropped to the ground, pouting.
“She says this is her land, boss,” Yasa said, ignoring the commotion. Chittering broke out amongst the other goblins at this. “Maybe she wants to fight you for it.”
Kranka reached out and grabbed one of the goblins who snatched the bracelets by the arm. “Go to the cemetery. Find out why Og isn’t back, yet.”
The goblin scurried out the entrance, still trying to fasten the bracelet around its arm. Kranka looked at Buka, who shrank under the hobgoblin’s gaze. A deep growl emanated from Kranka’s throat.
“Your chances run low with me, exile.” Kranka moved closer. His hand shot out and wrapped around Buka’s neck, pulling him close. “Every day you refuse to return is an insult. Do you think yourself better than me? Or this pack?” He lifted the goblin off the ground. Buka’s legs flailed in the air. “You will be punished. You will scream for my forgiveness, and only then will I take my due for your failures.”
Kranka squeezed his fist and Buka’s face bulged. He clawed futilely at Kranka’s iron grip.
“This time I’ll remove an arm. Maybe that will help you remember your loyalty.”
Kimmie’s fear faded as her anger surged forward.
“Stop it!” she said, a little louder than she planned.
Kranka returned his attention to Kimmie, who stared back defiantly. He looked her up and down, the snarl on his lips fading. With a backhand motion he tossed Buka against the wall near the injured goblins. Buka crashed to the ground, then slowly pulled himself into a ball as the goblins cackled at the scene.
“If this is your land, human, then you must protect it. If I am here,” he took a step toward her, and Kimmie lowered her eyes, “you failed.”
“Well,” she stammered as her emotions calmed and rational thought returned, “technically I didn’t really mean this land right here. Mine is back that way,” she motioned with her head, “where they found me. That’s my land. This probably belongs to Mr. Alecson. You’ll want to take that up with him. Or the state. Either one.”
Kranka watched her. He straightened his back, raising to his full height as another growl filled the room, then faded. “You are not afraid?”
Kimmie forced herself to look up at him. “I’m afraid of dying. I’m not afraid of you.”
A chorus of hoots went up amongst the goblins. They sensed blood, and they cheered for it. A growl from Kranka silenced them.
“Tell me why,” he said.
Kimmie grit her teeth. “You killed my family.”
Kranka cocked his head slightly. Slowly, a grin formed on his face, and Kimmie wanted even more to burn him to the ground.
“The humans?” He gave a quick nod toward Buka. “The ones he defied me for?”
Kimmie said nothing. Kranka laughed, a slow, deliberate sound that built steadily as he turned to face his pack. The goblins laughed with him, filling the entire cave with their screeching amusement.
Kranka stopped partway through his grandiose turn. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
“You know I gave them a choice?” His expression turned serious. “They were not hunters, with bounties on their heads. I offered to let them live, if they would serve me. The man, he would entertain me. A King’s Fool. But the woman, her I craved. Her, I offered the world. I would have made her one of my Queens. She would have been useful in the war to come. Very useful.”
Kranka turned to face her.
“An offer I now make to you.”
Kimmie’s eyes bulged.
“You are demented. There is no way I would ever–”
Kranka reached out for her head. Kimmie recoiled, but the goblins nearby grabbed her and held firm. They pushed her forward to meet their master, who held his hand mere inches from her face. She froze, dreading the touch of his calloused fingers on her skin. But he didn’t move. Instead, the hobgoblin closed his eyes, and Kimmie thought she saw a smile form on the creature’s twisted face.
“Yes,” he hissed. “It’s there. It calls to me.” He stepped closer, moving his hand a hair’s width from her face. “Hers was a flame. Yours, an inferno, turning everything it touches to ash.” He opened his eyes, his vengeful glare turning to one of admiration. “It blinds me.”
Kimmie opened her mouth, wanting to finish her condemnation of this monster. She never got the chance. Kranka wrapped his hand over her mouth. Kimmie let out a muffled scream.
Suddenly, the cave was gone. Kimmie fell forward and her hands hit the ground. Only instead of rock and dirt, she was greeted by intricately designed square stone tiles that spread out in all directions. She looked up to discover that she was alone, in a temple. An old temple, neglected and derelict, covered in dark green vines and moss. She heard a voice. She turned to see a middle-aged Asian man kneeling on the floor nearby, his head bowed low and his hands in the air in supplication, or prayer. A line of wet, snowy footprints led from the front door to where he kneeled, and a half-dozen faded parchments were arrayed on the floor in front of him, like a folding fan. Wind howled across the entrance and snow flurries swirled in from narrow windows in the walls. The man’s eyes were closed, and garbled, distorted words flowed from his mouth, the sounds not quite matching the movement of his lips. It was like watching a horribly dubbed foreign movie.
The sounds of the storm dulled and a distant rumble filled her ears. A thick fog rolled in from the exits, spreading across the floor of the temple, bringing with it a scent of decay. Dread filled the air, and Kimmie backed away, her hands trembling as the grey mist surrounded the oblivious praying man. A bump formed behind him, rising up from the floor. The fog thickened, coalescing until it took a rough, humanoid shape.
A wispy arm reached for the praying man’s head. Kimmie tried to shout a warning, only to find Kranka standing before her once more. Her eyes darted left and right, taking in the cave she’d returned to, and the small army of goblins staring at her.
Kranka removed his hand from her face and slowly backed away. He looked her up and down. “My Queen.”
He turned, his deep laugh booming through the cave. Kimmie went limp in the hands of her captors, her strength gone, the breath sucked from her lungs. She inhaled deeply, recognizing the torment about to tear through her body. She glanced over at Buka, who cowered in the corner of the lair. She’d never seen him look so scared, not even when Ollie threatened to burn him alive.
She wondered what that meant for her…