Red couldn’t make much sense of what she was seeing.

A Crone.

A goblin.

A mix of both.

The figure was still tall, but instead of leathery grey texture, her skin was now a little smoother. A little greener. Those fingers Red had noted, the ones that had seemed far too long and clawed for a Crone, did indeed resemble that of a goblin’s. Her captor’s head had grown more rounded, the nose lengthening to normal, goblin-sized proportions.

“Who—what are you?” Red asked.

“Can’t you tell, little goblin?” The creature before her performed a slow pirouette, as though showing off her form to her audience. She didn’t care that her clothes were on fire. Her eyes—big and round like a goblin’s—drank in Red’s expression. “I am one of you.”

Red brandished her wand, landing on the only possible explanation. “What kind of nasty magick is this? Changing your shape to deceive others. I should have known your kind would be capable of such trickery too.”

“No magick. No trickery. What you see before you is the truth.” Her grin sharpened. “A truth you should never have witnessed, little goblin.”

Red’s mind whirled. “And what is the truth?”

The creature laughed again. “Oh, do you truly believe I am the right person to reveal it to you?” She tutted. “Come now, you used to hear stories, yes? Where did you listen to them the most? The real truth can be found at the same source.”

Stories? Red’s mind jumped from one potential meaning behind the creature’s words to the next. Then her grip on her wand tightened. “I’m here to make sure you won’t ever endanger my source of stories again.”

“Oh, but we can’t have that, now can we?” The half-goblin, half-Crone raised her hand and clapped. The sound reverberated in the room like the gong of a bell. A moment later, a distant door opened and closed, and then a real Crone appeared at the far end of the room. “Make your choice, little goblin.”

Choice? Red’s eyes trailed from the creature to the actual Crone. The hag was holding a sack in her hand, which she proceeded to open and display the contents.

Red stared. “No…”

“You recognize them, yes?”

“They’re—you thief!”

The sack held everything that those invading Crones had stolen from Great ma’s hut. Paintings from the walls, vials full of herbs and concocted tinctures, various little tools and crafting materials besides. The horde of a reprehensible robber.

“Give those back!” Red demanded.

The half-goblin, half-Crone tutted. “That would be too easy, don’t you think? How about we make a deal instead? I will give you all these in return for you leaving me in peace.”

“You’ll simply give them to me?” Red couldn’t hide the scepticism from her voice. “And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

“Yes. They’ve served their purpose already. I don’t care for them any longer. You can take them, so long as you promise to leave.”

Red wanted everything in that sack, was determined to get them back. But not before she finished what she had really come here to do. “I will take it all. But I won’t be leaving you in peace. You won’t be leaving us in peace. Even if you say you will, I can’t take your word for it. So I’m going to make sure you don’t harm us ever again.”

With another little tut, the half-goblin, half-Crone wagged a finger in front of her face. “Ah, you think you have a choice in the matter, when you clearly do not.”

“I will take it all back.”

“Of course. But do you truly wish to waste your time here?”

“What do you mean?”

The creature snapped her fingers. Immediately, the Crone turned and ran back the way she had come. A second later, Red heard the distant door slamming closed.

“What?” Red asked, slightly confused. “Where is she going?”

The half-Crone’s smile was as evil as the smoke slowly filling the room. “Where do you think?”

Red’s mind raced. Where would this hag send the other one with everything she had stolen? Her breath caught in her chest when the answer arrived, her tongue stumbling as she tried to get the words out. “You’re sending them back!”

The half-Crone clapped mockingly. “I could tell you were intelligent. To a degree. So now, this begs the question. What choice will you make, little goblin? Which is more important to you? Your intentions, your righteousness, the goal you have set yourself.” The smile of hers sharpened, widened, cutting straight across Red. “Or your Great ma?”

Of course. Of course.

The half-Crone was sending everything back to where it had been stolen from. But that wasn’t all. She was going to lure Great ma over here, pull Red’s ancestor straight to this trap where she would end up captured just as Red had been. Or worse.

And Red was the only one who could warn Great ma against doing so.

Red’s chest heaved as her breaths came faster and faster. She could stop this. She could prevent Great ma from coming here and facing the army of Crones lying in wait.

But if she did so, she’d be leaving this half-Crone, half-goblin—all monster—behind. There was no time.

“What will it be, little goblin?” came that sneering voice again.

With a scream, Red hurtled away. She rushed past the monster, past the flames burning the room to ash, past the fallen furniture and the cauldron. It was no small a blessing that she didn’t slip in the spill, that the smoke didn’t enter her lungs or sting her eyes much.

The door was all too easy to find, all too easy to wrench open. Then Red was out in the open.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Free.

No Crones in sight. It was as though they had vanished into thin air. No. No, of course not. This was all a part of setting up the trap for Great ma.

Dragging in another heavy breath, Red ran once more. Where had that Crone with the sack gone?

She tried not to stop. Tried not to let her exhaustion catch up to her. She had a new goal to reach, one that was even more important than her last one. Red was not stopping.

In the end, Red didn’t find the Crone. That hag was far too fast. More importantly, she didn’t find the other Crones along her path either. A part of her was worried that she was losing herself, but her sense of smell guided her away from their lair, and soon enough, she spotted Great ma’s hut.

The sack had been left in the garden. Red could scarcely believe it. It almost felt like another trap. Like Red would relievedly pick it up, only to be ambushed by a horde of Crones rushing out of the hut.

Despite the tension rising on her shoulders, Red braved the garden she herself had tended at times. There were no silly traps or anything of the sort. Nothing that set off her senses.

“Great ma?” Red called, holding the sack close to her chest.

The old goblin emerged from the hut a moment later. She paused when she found Red, then hurried over with a little gasp. “Goodness! What has happened to you? What—that’s all my stuff. Dear, you didn’t…?”

Red’s eyes were swimming. She could barely make out her Great ma properly through the film of tears.

It was strange that Red felt like flopping. Her body simply refused to cooperate. Maybe it was the fact that she had finally reached safety, maybe it was the relief that she had found Great ma was safe. Maybe it was just all the shock and fear repressed by her own body that was now catching up with her.

But Red began leaning forward, unable to support herself on her feet any longer. Her voice gasped out, like it wanted to sob.

“There, there.” For an old goblin, Great ma’s grip was sure. Strong. She supported Red and got her into the hut, helping her into the bed where she could lean against the pillows. “Rest now, dear. Let me get you some water.”

It took some time for Red to calm down, to stop feeling like she needed to be doing something. To really feel certain that neither she nor Great ma was in any immediate danger.

To feel like she had enough time to talk properly. Time to get to the bottom of the business.

“I met her, Great ma,” Red said.

Great ma didn’t seem surprised. Only sad. Red hated making Great ma sad. It was almost like their conversation was making Great ma depressed, but she would be even more despondent if she believed Red was holding herself back for Great ma’s apparent sadness. So, Red forged on.

“I found something really strange,” Red said.

She went on to detail—in stops and starts because she couldn’t really suppress the emotions that arose thanks to the memories—everything she had experienced. Everything she had seen.

Everyone she had met.

“She was right,” Great ma said eventually, after Red had finished her tale. “You should never have witnessed all that.”

Red swallowed. “You knew, then? You knew about it all?”

Great ma’s silence was more than enough of an answer.

Red sat up straighter, trying not to appear weak. “What is the truth, Great ma? What are all the Crones doing there? Who is that talking Crone-goblin thing? Tell me, please.”

Great ma took a deep, shuddering breath. “This is the natural way of the world, dear. The natural order, that I rebelled against.”

“Natural order?”

With careful movements, Great ma removed her mittens. Cleaned off the cream on her face. Pulled off the cap covering her head. Rolled back the sleeves of her long, billowy gown.

Revealing that she was half-goblin, half-Crone too.

“Dear,” Red said. Her voice didn’t sound hers. Her body didn’t feel hers. It was as though she was experiencing this moment through a third-person perspective. “That was what she called me, at first.”

Great ma looked away, letting the silvery hair cover the side of her head. The side that showed skin that was slowly turning more grey than green. “She is also following the natural order. Of how things are supposed to be.”

“Of you turning into a Crone?”

“Yes. That is the curse. The burden we must bear.”

“Why?”

“Because of the Great Tree, dear.”

Red slowly shook her head. The Great Tree? She had seen a few of those growing at the stone house. A little garden patch that held the saplings of the shimmering trees with their deep red leaves. “I don’t understand…”

“Where do you suppose the powers you use so blithely come from?” Great ma looked down at the wand in Red’s hand. “The Great Tree sacrifices its own vitality to imbue itself with the magick that we can make use of. But this magick comes at a cost. It shortens the Tree’s lifespan a great deal. Most Great Trees do not live for longer than a decade. Two at most.”

Red raised her wand to look at the glossy branch of wood. “And the stone house replaces the Great Trees?”

“The stone house you saw cultivates them.”

“But where does you turning into a Crone come into all this?”

“Well, tell me this, dear. Have you ever seen a fruit on the Great Tree?”

Red paused. Then blinked. “Never.”

Great folded her hands, clasping her now-stubby fingers together. “The question then arises how the tree can reproduce, yes?”

“Yes…”

Red didn’t like where this was going.

“The Great Trees do not grow seeds,” Great ma said. She sighed. “They form from the Crones.”

“What?”

“At the end of their lives, the Crones turn into the sapling. When nurtured and raised correctly, this sapling grows to become a Great Tree that allows us to channel powerful magicks.”

“No…”

“I’m sorry, dear. But this is the truth.”

Red’s mind whirled a little. This was the truth? That old goblins would turn into Crones, who would then go on to turn into Great Trees? This wasn’t truth. This was insanity.

“Why so many Crones, then?” red asked. “We only have one Great Tree. Are you telling me that most Crones don’t actually make a proper Great Tree?”

Great ma nodded sadly. “It is impossible to tell which Crone will end up becoming a Great Tree that actually flourishes. Therefore, it is necessary to give them all a chance to grow.”

“And the one who makes sure they all get a chance to grow into a Great Tree is the caretaker.” Red frowned at Great ma, recalling the evil hag who had captured and imprisoned her. “And you’re going to be the next caretaker?”

Slowly, Great ma nodded. That was all the answer she was capable of.

Red still had so many questions she wanted to ask. None of that had explained why the Crones were so… strange. Why could they no longer speak the same as goblins? Why were they so easily distracted by things that goblins didn’t care about? Why were they so obsessed with their strange implements?

Where and how had this whole system begun?

But Great ma was already getting to her feet. More than that, Red could feel that her mind just wasn’t going to be able to absorb more information. What she had learned so far was already swirling far too hard inside her head. She needed time. Maybe Great ma realized that too.

Red lay on the bed, comfy in the pillows. The burns she had suffered were soon soothed away by an ointment Great ma brought her.

Exhaustion caught up to her. Not just the physical kind. A heavy mental fatigue clouded her mind, and slowly, she began to nod off to sleep. She kept waking up in starts, afraid that the Crones would be coming, afraid that something might happen while she was unconscious.

“You won’t go over to the stone house, will you, Great ma?” Red asked. Even her voice sounded drowsy now. “You won’t leave me, right?”

Great ma sat down next to her on the bed. With gentle care, she stroked Red’s head. Her nose might have shortened and her skin might not look normal anymore, but her expression was still kind. Soft as Red had always known it to be. “Sleep, dear. Rest. I will always be by your side.”

So, comforted by Great ma’s words and presence, Red went to sleep.

When she awoke, her heart stuttered as she realized that Great ma was gone. All Red found was a simple note on the table.

“I’ve left to take care of the matter I was always meant to,” it read. “Remember your mother. Make sure to tell her everything that has happened and give her the tincture too. Take care, dear.”

Red stared at the note for a long while. She was starting to feel angry, if in a muted and distant way. All the trouble she had gone through, the promise she had extracted from Great ma. Apparently, they meant nothing, because the old goblin didn’t truly mind leaving Red behind to go to the last locations she should have. Argh.

Her body itched to do something. To once again throw herself at the stone house and fix this entire mess somehow. To do anything other than just stand there, distraught and helpless.

Great Trees. That was where the whole problem started. Red looked down at her wand. A tiny chunk of a Great Tree in her hand…

Red began to think. To plan. She was getting her Great ma back, no matter what.