Imelda paused at the diner door and looked back over her shoulder. Something felt off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. The air had an odd stillness unrelated to the diner being on the city limits. She sighed and made her way into the diner, uncertain what to do but knowing things were brewing.

In the back corner of the almost empty diner, Imelda found her usual group in their usual spot. She had to admit it was an interesting group. All grandmas, but an odd blend of human and supernatural. Metzli, a chaneque nature spirit from Central America, caught her eye and tilted her head ever so slightly to a darker spot down the large table. Imelda glanced in that direction and noted a couple of kobold grandmas sitting there, close enough to be part of the group, but far enough to show their independence.

She sighed and settled into her chair across from Metzli. Josephine, another human, sat to her left, while Ish’niki, a goblin, sat to her right. Imelda nodded a greeting to Josephine before turning to Ish’niki.

“Ish’niki! I didn’t expect to see you here after that trouble with your eldest grandson the other night.”

The goblin bowed her head for a moment, heaving a heavy sigh. “I know. And he’s still not back, but what good does it do me to sit in my warren and mope about it? Getting some fresh air will at least keep the fires of retribution burning bright.”

“Indeed, they will. Any idea where he might have disappeared to?” Imelda nodded.

“A few rumors, but nothing certain enough to act on, according to the authorities.”

Imelda arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? What rumors?”

Josephine jumped into the conversation. “They say there’s a demon gang encroaching into the city. Snapping up kids and the gullible left and right for their crazy rituals and such.”

Metzli snorted. “That sounds pretty far-fetched. The mayor said he put wards around the city limits to protect against this after the events down in Chicago.”

A hiss came from the end of the table where the kobolds sat. All eyes turned to them.

The silence stretched to where Metzli squirmed a little. Imelda tapped Metzli’s foot with her own under the table. When the nature spirit met Imelda’s eyes, Imelda gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Metzli settled. Several more seconds ticked by before the elder of the two kobolds spoke.

“My name is Narickt and I come from the Chicago Umbark clan, invited to this matriarchal enclave by Imelda.” The kobold tipped her head to Imelda in recognition before continuing.

“And I can share that the rumors about Chicago are true. There is a demon gang that has taken over the south side. Few are safe there anymore. Lawlessness reigns supreme. The Umbark clan has lost over half our young, and many warriors, to this gang.”

The group inhaled as one and held their breath. Imelda made a placating gesture. “Hear her out.”

“The Umbark clan has elected to abandon our territory in Chicago and seeks refuge elsewhere, safer for our young. Garlith and I came here to see what sanctuary we could find, only to discover the early signs of demon gang infestation that we missed in Chicago.” Narickt turned to her partner, who was only a bit younger in appearance than Narickt.

Garlith bowed her head before catching the attention of all the females around the table. “My elder speaks true. The first of our young disappeared quietly, slipping into the night when their caretakers’ backs were turned. We found them quickly enough, but they were not the same. At first, we lost one or two every couple of months. But in the last six months it is as if a floodgate opened, washing our young into the vile arms of those things. If your young are disappearing, it is likely the work of the demon gangs.”

Metzli shot a quick glance at Imelda, who, once again, nodded almost imperceptibly. “But how do you know it’s the demon gangs here? What are these signs you mentioned? "

Imelda worked to hold in a smile. Metzli always did a great job of appearing to be defiant. Garlith and Narickt exchanged looks before Narickt responded.

“Have you noticed the abandoned places in the city feeling darker than they should? Has the city felt uneasy in a way you could not explain? Does it not seem harder to cast peaceful magic, like it wants to warp into chaos despite your best efforts?”

Imelda watched as a dozen heads around the table nodded. She saw the old kobold’s grim smile. “Aye, we did as well. Do not make the same mistake we did, though. Do not pass this off as some shift in the veil and that is it. This city rests not all that far from Chicago, not for the demon gangs. And consider the crossroads that run through this city.”

“We all know the risks of living with a crossroads like the one in this city regardless of what the mayor says. It makes sense.”

Josephine’s words made Imelda bite her tongue or she would have cheered. The African American woman could not have timed her thought any better had Imelda coordinated it. It was definitely one of those times she suspected the woman wasn’t a full-blooded human, though Imelda could never prove it and Josephine would never say.

“What do you propose, then? If what the kobold say is true, more of our young will be in danger.” A pixie named Lasaria leaned forward as she spoke, her voice growing shriller with each word. “There are too few of us pixies left; we can’t survive something like this!”

Somna, an elf, made to rise. “We must bring this to the mayor’s office. He’ll know what to do.”

“No!” The bark in Josephine’s voice gave them all pause.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Metzli gestured for Josephine to continue. “Why not? He is the mayor and tasked with keeping the city safe. A demon gang invading is not exactly what one would call harmless.”

Josephine nodded. “I know, but think about it for a moment. The mayor has already said the city is safe. Why would he believe us? A bunch of old women?”

The water spirit and elf bristled at Josephine’s question. “We are most certainly citizens of this city. And we are leaders among our respective kinds. There is no reason for him to disbelieve us.”

Ish’niki stood, tears in her eyes, prompting the others to hold their words. “Josephine is correct. The mayor would not believe us because we have nothing to prove our fears. We know what happened in Chicago, and these two kobold representatives can verify the details. But that doesn’t mean it’s happening here.”

Imelda rose and embraced Ish’niki for a moment before turning to the others. “I hate to say it, but I agree with Ish’niki and Josephine. Without evidence, we are as good as gossiping to the mayor, and that will get us nowhere.”

As Imelda looked around the table, she could see the unrest amongst many of the beings there. She knew not all of them agreed with the belief that they needed more concrete evidence before they could go to the mayor. Some might even take it to the mayor, anyway. Imelda held a silent prayer in her heart that if they did, it wouldn’t affect the work ahead of them. For Imelda knew something more was coming. She didn’t know what yet but had already figured at least some of the strange dealings as of late were the demon gangs testing the waters. After all, as the kobolds and Josephine pointed out, this city sat at a significant crossroads for close to a third of the country. Power like that always drew the supernatural in, for better or worse. Usually both.

The females moved the conversation to safer territory for the rest of the evening. One by one, they filed out of the restaurant well past midnight until only a handful remained.

Josephine turned to Imelda. “You know they’re going to take this to the mayor anyway, right?”

“I know.” Imelda nodded.

“The lot of them can be such fools.” Ish’niki stabbed at the remaining potatoes on her plate with a fork as if she had some vendetta against them. “The goblins are the ones being targeted right now and we can see the right of it. Even the police won’t do much right now about Tor’nog’s disappearance. Best they offered was a runaway report because there’s nothing to show it is anything more than that despite what we say. Blasted elves and their righteousness thinking they’re better than goblins, that looking for a missing goblin young is beneath them.”

Metzli reached across the table to lay a comforting hand on Ish’niki’s arm. “We know Tor’nog didn’t just run away. And we understand there is much more going on than what we see on the surface. You know we won’t let this get swept away.”

Ish’niki paused and swallowed several times before looking up at the remaining females. “I know you won’t. No matter what, this inner circle has stuck it out through many a difficult time. But I fear what is coming. I fear it may test us beyond anything we’ve experienced before. There is darkness and evil in the air.”

Imelda swallowed hard at Ish’niki’s words. That the goblin felt it too opened a pit in her stomach. With their near immunity to most magic, goblins often missed portents and signs like this.

“I think we’ve all tasted the heaviness surrounding the city. The question is, how do we batten down the hatches to survive it? And how do we guide our respective kinds through it without too many casualties?” Imelda struggled to look the others in the eye as she spoke.

A drawn-out silence met her questions. The four of them stared at their empty plates, left at a complete loss for words.

Metzli broke the spell. “We get through it just like we have every other crisis that has come our way. We work together.”

“Aye, that we do.” Josephine nodded along.

Imelda pursed her lips, thinking about the next steps. “Shall we meet at the goblin warren tomorrow afternoon? See what we might divine about Tor’nog’s disappearance combining our abilities?”

The other three nodded, voicing their agreement. The four said their goodbyes and made their way out of the diner.

Imelda watched the streetlights flash their way past her old little Jeep. It gave her the sense that, somehow, she was spying on tableaus happening in the light. Look for just a moment before the light flickered out.

Under one streetlight, the scene that flitted across Imelda’s vision was anything but benign. She spotted a young goblin pinned against the alley wall, a look of utter terror painted on its face. Imelda slammed on the brakes and cranked the wheel over to park the car.

She left it sitting against the curb rather haphazardly and crept back along the sidewalk toward the alley in question. Imelda stuffed one hand into the large handbag she had slung across her body, rummaging for her charms. She’d trained under her grandmother as a curandera as a child in Mexico. Training daughters as curanderas had become a dying art, which made Imelda sad. True, it had no money behind it anymore, but the role still held critical importance in the world.

Just before reaching the mouth of the alley, Imelda stopped to listen. She strained to catch any sound that did not blend into the city’s late-night symphony. After a few moments, she heard it. The slight whimpers of a young goblin in pain.

Rounding the corner, Imelda thrust her fist out ahead of her in a warding gesture. She gripped a silver cross. From her wrist dangled a charm against the mal de ojo on a red bracelet.

Within a couple seconds, Imelda noted the dark shape pressing the young goblin against the wall. But it was transparent. A mere shadow.

“Hail Mary, full of grace.” Imelda’s voice quavered a little with those first words. She took a breath and began again.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Each word took her one step closer.

The thing pinning the goblin seemed to turn, though it had no proper front or back. Imelda knew she’d gotten its attention, though.

“Blessed art though among women.” Imelda folded her other hand over the first, gripping the cross. The dark thing retreated a little, though its malevolence seemed to thicken around Imelda.

She finished the Hail Mary and thrust her charm and her cross out at the shadow creature as if to stab it.

In that moment, it did something Imelda didn’t expect. It flew at her, wrapping itself around her. Imelda choked, strangled by the darkness. Color and life leached from the world. Imelda dropped to her knees, crushed by the shadow’s weight.

Her cross and her mal de ojo charm flashed in the putrid darkness. Then, the thing was gone. Gone as if it had never existed. Imelda collapsed forward onto her hands, breathing hard. It felt like she’d just run a marathon.

A whimper caught her attention. Imelda forced herself to her feet and turned. The young goblin lay against the wall on its side. She saw its chest move, so she knew it hadn’t been killed.

Putting the mystery of what that thing was, Imelda slogged to the goblin’s side.

“Hey, my dear, can you hear me?” She checked the goblin’s pulse. Up close, she could see the goblin was female. Not Tar’nog.

The goblin stirred. “What?”

Imelda smiled a little. “What is your name, my dear?”

“Ble’nath. What happened?”

Imelda paused. “Well, I don’t rightly know, Ble’nath. What I do know, though, is that we need to get you back to the warren. Can you help me get you to your feet?”

The goblin female nodded. “I think so.”

Together they levered her up, both relying on the wall quite a bit. Then, leaning against each other, they managed to stumble their way to Imelda’s car. Once Ble’nath managed to get into the passenger seat, Imelda shut the door and leaned up against the vehicle. She stared at the clear night sky. Just a few of the brightest stars managed to fight their way through the city’s light pollution to shine upon them.

“Thank you, Lord, for getting us through that. Now, mind telling me what the hell that was?”