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The road was no less bright, but the sense of urgency was now gone. Betty strained her elongated ears and heard nothing but the natural sounds of the wind and birdcalls, the snorting of the two horses, and, of course, the hushed and heated debate of the human children. The deeper voice of Burt, filled with determination, wanted to try and break free. Timid Namia was convinced they would get in more trouble from the knight. She also worried real goblins now lurked in the woods. The more thoughtful Atty seemed torn between caution and freedom. He agreed to let Burt attempt to free the chain from the wagon while he kept a watchful eye on the tree line.

If Wik was still in the area, she was remaining utterly silent.

Betty was still unprepared to face the glaring sunlight. Staying out of sight but close enough to the open sky to start her eyes adjusting, she opened her newest window again. After the line about gaining a level, whatever that meant, she saw the following text.

You may choose two of the following options:

Goblin

* +1 Might* (Due to gear, will only improve unequipped Might)

* +1 Health

* +1 Speed

Sizzler

* +1 Magic

* [Sear] +1 Damage level to [Ignite] or [Heat]

* [Toss] +1 distance increment to [Ignite] or [Heat]

The list was finally something Betty could easily understand. She just had to pick two things from it. A +1 to one of those categories on her screen made sense to her. Even the options for her magic powers were not hard to comprehend. While she didn’t know the best choice to make, for the first time, she truly understood what the windows were asking of her.

As it was the last thing she read, the sixth option held her attention. The [Heat] spell seemed like a powerful tool, but it came with a serious drawback. Requiring her to be within inches of a target was just not safe. That would be one of her picks, for sure.

She opened her character page, hanging the two floating screens in the air in front of her. As she reread them, Betty immediately knew what else she wanted. The words weak health bothered her greatly. That would just not do.

She had worked hard to ensure everyone in her family ate healthy meals and exercised- no sitting in front of the television or playing on their devices for hours on end. As she had gotten older, she had come to accept certain health issues were par for the course: arthritis, poor eyesight, etc. Yet here in this place, it seemed like she could choose to be healthier just by selecting it. Who in their right mind would pass up that opportunity?

By the time she finished her selection, her vision had adjusted to the worst of the light blindness. Gritting her teeth against the glare, Betty stepped out of the trees and walked toward the youths. Immediately, both boys shuffled in front of young Namia. Burt, the bigger of the pair, was holding a broken spoke from the wagon wheel, menacing her with it. Betty held her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Easy now, children,” she addresses them in what she hoped was as close to her school-teacher cadence as her goblin garble could produce. “I am not going to hurt you. Let’s remove that chain and get you away from here. That man will not be coming back, but I don’t know about any others like him.”

“Get away, you stinking gobbie,” Burt shouted. “There’s three of us. We’re not afraid of you.”

“Excuse me! You watch your tone, young man,” Betty scolded sharply. She had mastered that commanding tone long ago, and the big farm boy immediately faltered. The spoke drooped while his eyes opened wide. “I just went through a harrowing ordeal to make sure you three were safe. I understand you have no reason to trust me, but I suggest you mind your manners unless you want to spend the night chained to that wagon.”

“You don’t talk like a gobbie,” the gruff youth huffed.

“Then take it as a sign that I will not act like you expect me to either. Now, may I approach?”

The other boy, Atty, whispered to his companion, “Let her, but stay ready.” Betty could hear them plain as day, but she saw no reason to inform them of that fact. The burly young man gestured for her to approach.

Closing the distance, she finally was near enough to see the children clearly in the bright light. They were dressed in simple smocks of loosely woven fabric that reached their knees and pointed leather shoes. They all had olive complections, snub noses, and extremely curly light brown hair. The combination was not one she could have placed on Earth. Then again, Betty reminded herself, she was no longer on Earth.

Even though she knew this from listening to their conversations, the similarity of their features made it obvious that the children were closely related.

Standing in front of his siblings was the largest boy. He had several inches on Betty now, but given the size of the armored man, she guessed he was likely only a few grades ahead of her five-year-old grandson Billy. Burt clearly had spent time working on a farm or something of that nature. The young man had an inherent sense of brawn about him.

Then there was the group’s leader. Atty was slighter than his brother, but everything about him suggested he was older than Burt by a few years. His features were less childlike, and he had an alertness that Betty had not seen in many elementary school children.

It was difficult to discern much about little Namia. The small girl, about the same size as Wik, had scrunched herself behind Atty’s back, only peeking out at Betty. She was a lovely little girl, but she was clearly terrified. Betty moved slowly and casually for her sake, allowing the child time to stay behind her brothers as Betty walked to the wagon.

Following the chain, she noted that each of the ankle manacles was directly linked to it. It ended in a padlock looping through a heavy ring stapled to the wagon's side. Breaking any of the metal shackle would not be easy. The only weak spot she could see was the wood around the staple.

“Is there an axe or hammer around here anywhere?” she asked. Her frying pan might work in a pinch, but she did not want to risk damaging it if she didn’t have to.

“Do we look stupid, gobbie?” Burt blurted. “Why would we tell you where a weapon was?”

Sighing, she shook her head. “This is going to take much longer if you are going to question everything I do or ask. If I prove that I don’t need a weapon to overpower you, will you give me the benefit of the doubt from here on out?”

“Uh,” the big boy stammered until Atty spoke up.

“It would have to be a convincing example, Ma’am,” the slender boy stated. His expression was stern and calculating. While it lacked his larger brother’s open hostility, it didn’t display any sign of trust either.

Climbing into the wagon, which was nearly empty at this point, she stepped over to where the staple was mounted. Grabbing the chain, she sat down in the wagon bed and placed her feet against the sides of the vehicle. She was unsure how strong a fire titan was or what ‘prestigious might’ actually meant, but they sounded promising. She wrapped the chain around her wrist and pulled.

Expecting far more resistance, Betty wasn’t quite ready when she ripped the staple and a chunk of wood free on her first tug. She tumbled backward, but thankfully, her embarrassing flop was out of the children’s line of sight. She quickly stood up and brushed herself off before jumping down out of the wagon, a considerable height for her tiny new frame.

“Now, since I can’t do the same with your feet without crippling you, how about you help me find a hammer or something else we can use to snap that chain?” she asked as cheerily as she could.

“There are tools in the good wagon,” the Atty remarked. He was a bright one, like Jason’s little Zoe, working out the angles of every problem. “We should take the wagon and drive ourselves out of here. Nami won’t be able to walk far enough with that chain on. Nobody should find us if we head down to Logger’s Ford.”

“Aren’t you a clever boy?” she replied, but her flattery had no effect on the young man, who still looked at her with heavy suspicion.

This whole time, the youngest child had remained silent, hiding behind the boys.

“I hope you two know how to work one of these contraptions,” Betty continued. “Otherwise, we’re back to walking.”

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“I can drive if Burt helps.”

“Very well. You three get aboard and get it ready to go. I’ll be right back.”

Betty knew there was an excellent chance the kids would try to drive off without her, but she also knew the best way to develop trust was to extend it. She was certain she and Wik would be able to follow the creaking wagon to their destination, keeping an eye on the kids, even if from out of sight. She was still unsure of what her long-term plans were, but protecting children was obviously her top priority, no matter what.

As she reached the blessed shade of the forest, she found the small goblin girl waiting for her. The tiny green youth had a new accessory. Looped over her shoulder like a sash was a man’s leather belt with the dagger the knight had been using to try and remove the super-heated thigh plate.

“You found yourself a treasure, Wik. Good for you,” she remarked cheerfully, trying not to notice how bloody some sections of the belt were. “That should get you many meals.”

“I wanna go with you, Great One. Don’t want to go back. You have fire and might. And you’re nice to me. Please? I stay with you?”

She knew she could no more leave this little one than she could the human youths. “Alright, come along. We’ll have to go into the bright sunlight. We also are going to need to look after some human children.”

“Humans? In the bright? Um … um …,” Betty could see Wik’s little brain churning over these very alien ideas. “If you say so, Great One.”

“Where did you get that title from, Dear? Just Betty is fine.”

“I can’t do that. Hschk the Burner and Mual the Brute would strike me down, Priestess.”

“Well, I’m not quite a priestess either. How about...” Betty was about to use the name her schoolchildren did, ‘Missus Watts,’ but that seemed wrong here. She was nervous it could somehow endanger her or Morty. Instead, she went with the name she had been going by every day recently. “How about you just call me Granny, then?”

Wik smiled and nodded. Betty had been listening to the roadway this whole time, and while she had heard metal jingling and the wagon creek, she had not heard the cart drive off. The children must really be in a bind to choose a monster as a companion when they obviously had an excellent chance to escape.

“She’s got another one,” Burt’s surly voice carped as Betty and Wik stepped out of the trees.

“And she is as much under my protection as you three are. Understood, Burt,” Betty stated with a no-nonsense tone.

“How do you know my name, gobbie?”

“I don’t like that term, boy. That will be the last time you use that slur on either of us.” Betty was not certain the word was derogatory, but from the way the big boy spat it out, there was a very high likelihood of it. The flush of his cheek all but confirmed her guess. “This is Wik, and like her, you may simply call me Granny.”

“I’m Atmus. This is Namia. We should really get going. Someone will come looking for this wagon eventually.”

After hoisting Wik up, Betty climbed into the back of the vehicle. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you stayed.”

“I worked it out. You could have killed us easily when we were chained to the wagon: missile attacks or poison. Also, someone threw flames at Sir Grybar, so one of you has fire magic. That means you could set the wagon on fire or choke us with smoke. But you didn’t. Also, you broke us free and spoke like a civilized person. I figured we had better odds with you than without.”

“You really are a bright young man. And correct. But I will let you know this. You can also help me so we can have an even exchange between us. I need to know what is happening around here. You explain, and I will do my best to get you out of those chains and keep you safe. Deal?”

“Deal,” was all the boy replied as he pushed a long wooden lever. Atmus clucked his tongue and snapped the reigns, setting the wagon moving. Burt had moved his sister onto the seat beside the Atty and turned to face the two goblins, bearing a thunderous scowl.

They had been driving only for a short while when Atty turned them off the country dirt lane onto a smaller wagon track. The track ran through the woods until it reached a slow-moving river. A crude log bridge now covered the once-named ford. Atty drove them across and pulled the wagon up next to a very weathered-looking shack.

“Nobody should be here,” the older boy remarked. “The knights rounded up all the hunters and loggers a while ago. Um. Granny Gob, the hammer and chisel should be in that box to your left.”

Betty smirked at the compromised name. There was no disdain in Atty's voice, but the qualifier allowed him to bypass actually naming her as a member of his family. She opened the heavy wooden toolbox, and sure enough, a mallet and iron chisel were right on top.

Together, the group found a large rock. They wrapped the chain and hammer with rags to muffle noise. Burt held one side tight while Wik, Atty, and Namia pulled hard against the burly farm boy. With the chain stretched tautly, it only took Betty two or three swings to carefully crack the shackles’ hinges, finally unbinding them from each other.

As the siblings dashed off for a moment of privacy with a nearby tree, Betty and Wik checked out the logger’s hut. The space was small, but it did possess a small potbelly stove, a few chairs with a round table, and a set of bunk beds. Everything was old, weathered wood, but nothing smelled rotten or moldy. Dusty, for sure, but the little lodge must have seen regular cleanings.

Betty had already raided the boxes on the ride for foodstuff to cook with. In minutes, as the children returned, she had the stove going thanks to [Ignite] and was cutting items with Wik’s new knife to build a stew. She was amazed at the new knife-skills she had developed thanks to her magic belt. Her hands flew through the preparations with a surety she had never possessed before.

While she worked on flavoring, Betty set the children to chores, such as finding and cleaning bowls, making up the beds, and setting the table. Betty knew they would be asleep moments after they had filled their bellies after the stress of the day. She was amused by how the children paired up. Burt and Namia took the eating utensils to the stream while Wik and Atty found sheets and blankets in a heavy mouse-proof trunk. The boy immediately worked out the best way to get the job done. Wik was tiny and agile, so he had her clamber along the wall side of the bed while he worked the outer edge.

Her culinary creation was ready shortly after the sun went down. It smelled heavenly. As it simmered on the stove, she had been adding pinches of this and that from the seemingly endless options provided by her belt. Instinctively, she knew how and when to add each spice and where it resided on the belt’s hundreds of little pockets.

Betty let them dig into the most savory stew she had ever created. She waited until their spoons slowed down before she began asking her questions.

“So let’s start with the big one. Why did that knight lock you up after the goblin attack?”

“We not attack. Is lie!” the little goblin girl declared vehemently.

“Wik’s right,” Atti confirmed. “The knights attacked us. After they killed Ma and Pa …” The young man’s voice broke slightly, but he soldiered on while Burt hugged his little sister. “They brought the gobbies, sorry, goblins, in cages and killed them too. Then they laid out the bodies so people would think just what you did.”

“But why? Why do all that?” This seemed like one of those dastardly plots a movie villain would cook up.

“I think a witch is controlling them,” the large boy announced forcefully.

“No, Burty. It’s General Galerus,” Atmus countered. Burt seemed to want to argue, but not with his older brother. He glowered a little and sat back to listen to the explanation. “Pa said the General passed his Bronze Trails years ago. He should have moved to the next Great Tier but didn’t. He stayed in Copper Hollow and built an army instead. Pa told me the General wants to take the Kingdom of Dranadad from King Leofrick, make the King surrender, and name him the new king.”

This sounded dire.

“How does capturing you three help with that?” Betty asked, putting down her bowl since her appetite had just deserted her.

“Uncle Rom said the General kidnapped the King’s heirs; Rom’s a captain in the Dranadad guard. The heirs are locked up with lots of other children in a dungeon of silence and illusions. With that many other kids around, King can send in one of the Royal Rogues to get them out because they would never know if they had the right ones. We were supposed to be more decoys.”

“This General sounds like an awful man. Is he really more powerful than the whole kingdom?”

“The General is smart and maxed out almost every attribute. He set it up so that the only way he could lose is in a fight. With his attributes and skills, the General could beat anyone in Dranadad in a duel. From what Uncle Rom said, his army is now as big as the Kings.”

“Your Uncle Rom? Can we get you to him? Or other family members?”

“Rommeny,” Atti supplied. “Rom rode on to Bucksville to warn them. He hadn’t come back yet. Our only other family is Ma’s side in Petrisal, about a week and a half from here by horse.”

“Well, I guess one of those is where we are headed. You should all…,” Betty began until a scrap from outside caught her and Wik’s attention. Wik’s head snapped to the side as Betty held up her hand and listened. There were sounds of movement heading toward the cabin from all sides.

Betty cursed the candle she had lit for the children. The old wood siding and loose shutters had let in plenty of moths. Those cracks must also be shedding plenty of light in the dark night outside. They might as well have set a beacon in the woods. She swatted out the flame and hissed, “Out of sight. Quickly.”

Blinded by the loss of light, the siblings barely moved, but little Wik grabbed Namia and pulled her under the bed.

A second later, the door slammed open from a solid kick.

“Shoulda gone into the woods, kiddies. Now come on outta there,” a harsh voice sneered demandingly.

Betty grabbed her heavy skillet and slid up to the side of the door. Her ears counted four armored knights, two on the sides where the shuttered windows were and two here at the door. Betty considered breaking through the back wall, but as a group, they’d surely be caught. Only she and Wik could escape that way.

Not an option.

She would have to fight. Feeling her face split into a sharp-tooth snarl, Betty found a fierce Goblin Mama Bear rise to the surface inside her. This was no gentle caretaker.

This Grandma Bear was a beast.

No one would harm these kids, it promised.

As she tightened her grip and evaporated into the shadows, all of Betty’s doubts and fears were replaced by a ferocious determination.