10:14 PM, 5th of December
<3 days, 21 hours, and 46 minutes until departure>
No one knew when and where the Urlking—at least in his current and most powerful form—had originated.
Whether due to age or by some accident of birth, he presented with various morphological differences from the majority of his subjects, enough to raise doubts that he was a true Goblin at all. One persistent ‘hypothesis’ among human loremasters—one that wouldn’t die down despite being impossible to test—was that the Urlking could trace a part of his lineage to a long extinct family of Elven nobles.
That would certainly explain his extraordinary height, translucent skin, and prominent lack of an underbite. The Goblinoid features he did retain were the teeth (though his tusks were often hidden behind the drapes of his beard), the ears (batlike and upright, unlike an Elf’s), and a pair of amber eyes that blazed and oozed like molten lava. Not to mention the Crown—long believed to be the very source of his unusual powers of domination over both human- and Goblin-kind—that sat secure upon his silver mane as it emitted a faint hoary glow.
All that combined to give him the appearance of a ghost or some eldritch being—something otherworldly and omnipotent before whom a mortal’s only recourse was to yield, obey, and worship. This effect was only further enhanced by his aristocratic dress and comportment, by the dense snow that invariably heralded his arrival, and of course, by the dreadful rumblings of his favoured mode of transcontinental travel.
“The Kronvall Express!”
Gabs announced as she set down a model train on a cluttered table in the middle of her workshop. Even in its shrunk-down form, it was a rather heavyset thing, with a wide base, even taller compartments, and a procession of thick wheels that to Wolf looked like something with which one would ride into war, rather than a station full of admiring spectators.
“This is a mock-up I put together,” Gabs went on to explain, “based off a blueprint I copied in Yakovo Vatt’s office when he got drunk off his green tits at last year’s Christmas party. See? It does pay to have friends in high places.”
At this, Salt let out a dubious grunt.
“Enough with the faculty politics. Just tell us what we need to know.”
“I’m getting to that, if you’ll just let me. Alright, do you all remember what the train was like the last time we, er, invited ourselves on board, some thirty years ago? Of course you do. In short, think of this year’s iteration as bigger and better in almost every way. Brand new engine with boiler pressure pushing 1,000 psi, torque for days, coupled with a whopping nine-foot driving wheel, we’re talking tractive effort of—”
“Big fast train,” Linlin was next to interrupt the runaway train that was the gabbing Artificer herself. “Get to point.”
“Should’ve known better than to expect a stimulating discussion with you lot.” Gabs turned into Grumbles for a second, then rapped the exterior of the model train with her knuckles as she continued, “Right. I suppose the first thing you’ll be interested to know is how we’re getting in. Don’t let the pretty blue paint fool you. These walls are reinforced with three layers of ballistic steel and ceramic tiles, all state-of-the-art Goblin engineering. I’m sorry to say even my [HEX BOMBS] won’t put a dent in them. No, you lot will have to do the heavy lifting this time. Luckily, I hear one of you has an ‘in’. Edwina?”
Right on cue, Eddie pulled out a piece of paper from her coat, unfolded it, and slapped it down on the workshop table beside the model train—perhaps with a little more flourish than was warranted.
“This here is the programme for the Urlking’s Soiree,” the Tactician explained, making no secret of her contempt for the very idea, “because apparently, it’s not enough to only kidnap our children, he also has to watch us celebrate his doing it. I’d say that’s unbelievably arrogant of him, if it weren’t so perfectly believable and in line with every self-absorbed tyrant that ever walked the earth. In any case, unlike Gabs, I didn’t have to liquor up any colleagues to get this information. Because I myself happen to be one of the Urlking's honoured guests.”
Around the table, the packmates exchanged grim looks. Wolf especially ground her teeth in barely suppressed anger. Arrogant was right. For here was the Urlking, openly inviting Eddie Hofstra to join him for an evening of merrymaking and diplomatic manoeuvrings… knowing full well that she’d been one of the six women that had made an attempt on his life thirty years ago.
And not just Eddie. Here was Gabs Dominguez, allowed to work in close quarters with the best and brightest of Goblin minds, close enough even to steal industry secrets. Even the Bolton twins and Linlin Yuan, absent a direct connection to the Urlking’s inner circles, were nevertheless prominent members of Franzish society that had suffered no repercussions for their role in the Hunt That Never Was.
If anything—and this was perhaps what most enraged Wolf—it was thanks to the Urlking that any of her packmates were free citizens at all. For if their attempted crime had been made public, the then Lord Chancellor of Franzmark would surely have come down on them with the fury of a statesman scorned. It'd been, therefore, only the Urlking’s willingness to look the other way that had allowed the Wolfpack to slip into the shadows to lick their wounds… until such time that they could rejoin society and rebuild their lives.
All except for Wolf. For Wolf alone had stayed in the shadows. Continued to run—hide—like Linlin had accused her of. That might well have been true, but Wolf now saw that her own cowardice had put her in the perfect position to take advantage of this second chance. For she alone among the Wolfpack had remained unmarked, and it was now time for her to break out of the shadows and finish what she’d started thirty years ago.
And as Eddie and Gabs continued to lead the briefing, it became clear that the whole plan, once again, was predicated on giving Wolf unimpeded access to the Urlking and his Crown.
“5 PM,” Eddie now paraphrased the programme for the group’s benefit, “the train rolls into Saint-Jude Station. 5:30, the Lord Chancellor gives his speech from the platform, for the benefit of the ‘common folk’ who won’t get to see the inside of the Kronvall Express. 5:45… is when the children are escorted onto the train…”
Wolf winced inwardly, as she felt Eddie’s pain plainly in her own heart. How much easier would the job be if they could simply focus on the children—spirit them away before the Urlking could get his claws into them? But no. All that would achieve would be to cause an international incident while leaving the master villain free to terrorize a fresh batch of children and their families. They must cut off the head of the snake, and for that to happen, they first needed this year’s ‘intake’ to be loaded onto the train.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
“6 o’clock is when the invited guests, including yours truly, will board the train from the rearmost carriage—the Reception Hall, as the Goblins are calling it.”
“That’s right.”
Gabs took her cue to reach for the model again, this time to ‘lift the lid’ on its rearmost carriage. Inside was a remarkably (needlessly) detailed miniature of this so-called Reception Hall, complete with food-laden tables and dancing guests. It looked no different to any number of extravagant dance halls one could find in country estates all over Franzmark, if said halls were far longer than they were wide and walled in by three layers of ballistic steel and ceramic tiles.
“This is where ‘the Soiree’ will take place,” Eddie again, “from 6 to 7:45, then the guests will be kicked out so the Goblins can prepare for departure. Key for us is what happens at 7:30 PM… which is when the Urlking himself makes an appearance in the Reception Hall… just briefly, but long enough for him to gloat at us human sycophants and recast [EMBRITTLE]. We need to get him before that can happen. Which means Wolf and Linlin will have to join me at the Soiree. Uninvited, of course, but I have… ways of getting around that. When the time comes, Linlin will clear out any bodies that might be in the way, then Wolf will strike from the shadows.”
“What shadows?” Wolf spoke up for the first time in the briefing. “I don’t know anything about Goblin traditions, but I’m assuming the human guests aren’t expected to dance and make merry in the dark? How will I know I’ll have a clear line to the Urlking?”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of light, alright,” Gabs chimed in again, almost giddy in her intense fascination with the topic at hand. “In fact, it’ll be the most well-lit dance hall Franzishmen have ever seen. Because the Goblins, in their infinite desire to flaunt their Industrial might any chance they get, have outfitted the whole train with electricity.”
Around the table, the packmates (minus Gabs and Eddie) exchanged blank looks. Seeing this, the Artificer let out the most withering sigh this side of the Albion Channel.
“Which works to our advantage, don’t you see? The whole thing’s connected in parallel, so in theory, knocking out one light fixture shouldn’t affect the others, but just imagine my surprise when I noticed something strange and frankly wonderful about Yakovo Vatt’s design. I’ve been dying to pick his brains about it, but it goes without saying, I can’t mention it to him without risking—”
“Please, Gabs,” Eddie became the latest to nudge the Artificer back on course, but she did so with a magnanimous smile, “stay on topic, won’t you?”
“Fine, fine. The long and short of it is that there’s a switchboard that controls all the lights inside the train from a central location. It’s located next to the boiler room, and I’ve already mapped out the circuits to know exactly how to throw the Reception Hall into complete darkness, with just the flicks of a few switches. All I need is for Alberta and Philomena to be my hands and eyes. Disguise themselves as Goblins, one to keep a lookout and the other to follow my instructions and work the switchboard.”
“How we coordinate?” Linlin cut in, voicing the same question that had been on Wolf’s mind. “I understand sequence, but I and Wolf need position ourselves for exact moment room go dark. Act before Urlking react. Salt and Pepper have… hm, telepathy? But we—”
“I’m glad you asked! We use this, my latest invention.” Gabs happily pulled out two objects from one of her many pockets. One was a circular band with a strange hook-like extension, which she then wore around her head such that the end of the hook lined up with her gabbing mouth. The other was a tiny metallic ball, which she then threw to Wolf. “I call it [WHISPER BOND]. Go on, try it on.”
“What… what do I do with it?” Wolf muttered as she dubiously inspected the ball—which was really half a ball—in her hand. Up close, she noticed several perforations on the flat side of the half-sphere.
“What else? Stick it in your ear and make sure it sits nice and snug.”
Wolf obeyed, even as she awkwardly felt the curious eyes of her other packmates. The thing was uncomfortably cold to the touch but a surprisingly decent fit inside her earhole. Then she braced herself, suddenly remembering all the other times she’d ‘volunteered’ to be her Artificer friend’s test sub—
“CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
“Ow!”
Acting on bona fide survival instincts, Wolf ripped the metal half-ball out of her ear and threw it onto the floor. Then she glared at Gabs, who still stood across the table from her, even though it just sounded like she’d bellowed directly into Wolf’s head. What had the Artificer called her latest abomination? [WHISPER BOND]??
“Hey, watch it!” Gabs yelled in indignation. “It cost me a pretty shilling to build that prototype, I’ll have you know! Granted, I might have to play around with the volume settings some more, but—”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Wolf snapped, trying to massage her surely shredded eardrum back together. “You’re saying Linlin and I can hear you talk into this thing? Even all the way from the other end of the train?”
“Yes, exactly!” Gabs brightened again in an instant. “And the best part is, it’s small enough to look like you’re just wearing some weird new jewelry from Nova Roma, which is just the kind of thing the kind of people who get invited to the Urlking’s Soiree are known to indulge in.”
Wolf nodded slowly, one hand still over her smarting ear. The plan was sound, and the tool to enable it absolutely ingenious. In fact, to Wolf’s untrained mind, this [WHISPER BOND] thing seemed far more impressive and fantastical than a board full of light switches… but what did she know?
“Wonderful,” Eddie then said, clapping her hands both in delight and to draw the Wolfpack’s attention back onto herself. “Now, to recap, we’re splitting into two teams, with Gabs acting as a relay point in between. Salt and Pepper to disguise themselves as Goblins and access the switchboard. Myself to help Wolf and Linlin infiltrate the Ball and wait for the Urlking’s arrival. As soon as the lights are out, the Urlking is ours. Wolf will take his head—and his Crown with it. Then, in the time it takes for the withdrawal effects of both [EMBRITTLE] and [AMALGAM] to wear off, that should give us enough cover to free who we need to free and for the five of you to make your escape. All before the Kronvall Express even has a chance to depart…”
Salt rejoined the conversation then: a grunt with a distinctly upward inflection.
“And after? I imagine you also got a plan for moppin’ up the shitstorm this is sure to whip up?”
Eddie smiled. “Leave the moppin’ to me, Salt. It’s high time I actually did something useful with the wealth and influence I’ve accrued over thirty years. Besides, with the Crown on our side, that should give me all the leverage I need. I promise we won’t start a war, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Salt grunted again by way of response, one that Pepper didn’t see the need to translate.
Finally, silence filled the basement workshop for what felt like the first time all night. It was the kind of silence every member of the Wolfpack knew well from their shared youth. Understanding. Commitment. Trust. Excitement.
“I do have… one more thing to add.”
It was their leader who’d broken the silence, which was unsurprising in itself. What did pique Wolf’s curiosity, however, was the expression that now clouded Eddie’s face as she looked around the table and met the eyes of every one of her packmates. As she spoke again, gone was her earlier confident serenity, and in its place sat an almost apologetic melancholy.
“First, let me say again just how glad I am for the pack to be back together, and to see you all so hale, so strong, so fierce… like you haven’t aged a day! But because I’m so glad to see you like this, I also have to ask… are you sure about this? I know my own reasons for going after the Urlking, and I’ll never waver from it... even if I have to find a new wolfpack, even if I have to wait another thirty years to do it. But none of you are beholden to the same calling—the same need—as I am. Every last one of you could walk away, right now, and I’d have no reason nor right to call you back. So, I ask all of you, one last time… are you absolutely sure that you want to do this with me?”