RUSTY
The sun rose too quickly, and the gang looked exhausted from the day before. The tribe was gathering around the stage where Grik had originally announced the trials, the crow’s nest above it listing to one side.
"What kind of speech are you going to give?" Chul asked Seok.
He’d apologized profusely to Rusty for deciding to take [Spirit Link] without his consent, and Rusty had mostly forgiven him. He was no longer worried Chul was influencing him nefariously in some way. Quite the opposite. Chul was young, and he often acted even younger than he was, and Rusty felt uncomfortable with the idea that their instant connection could have resulted from the way the [System] dealt with draconic companions. When a dragon hatchling imprinted on someone, did that person become attached to the hatchling whether or not they wanted it?
Seok, leaning against an old barrel, tapped the side of his head. "I have an idea,” he said, “but I’m not going to tell it to you because I don’t want Jiho to steal it. You’ll have to wait and see.”
Jiho snorted, raising an eyebrow at Seok's assertion. "As if I needed your expertise to write a speech.”
"Everyone has room to grow," Jiwoo chuckled, teasing his grandson. "Maybe Seok’s onto something.”
"I sure am," Seok said. "What are you going to say, Jiho?"
Sooji laughed. "He’s going to claim that he should be elected Great Goblin on account of his perfect hair.”
"And his shirt," Jiwoo added, grinning as Jiho's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “He loves those fishnets. The tribe won’t be able to resist.”
"Joke all you want," Jiho told them through clenched teeth. "You should be careful talking that way about your future leader."
The gang exchanged glances, and despite the teasing, they knew the importance of the upcoming challenge. The idea of Jiho becoming leader of the Midden Tribe was no joking matter, and he really did have a way with words, though Rusty doubted that would be enough to see him through in the melee.
Another goblin bumped into Chul as the gang found a spot where they could all see the stage. He was wearing a bowl on his head, and slippers made of rat skins.
"Hey there," he said in a muffled voice, “You should watch yourself.”
“You bumped into him.” Rusty hissed, and the goblin’s eyes widened.
“No no no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, lowering his voice even further. “I meant be careful. People are talking about the Gang of Fools being in the election, and a lot of them don’t like it. You should all watch out, is what I’m saying.”
Jiho’s eyes narrowed, pressing in between Chul and the newcomer. “Is that a threat?”
The goblin put both of his hands on top of his bowl hat. “Sorry,” he stammered, “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He disappeared into the crowd.
“He seemed nice,” Chul said.
“Do you think we’re in danger?” Rusty asked. “I know people don’t like you, but it seems like you’ve gotten along okay since we came here.”
“People talk,” Jiho said, “it isn’t important.”
Rusty looked around and thought he saw Slink watching them among the other goblins. A glimpse of drab cloth and blue eyes, and then she was gone. He shivered.
The trial was about to begin, and they could see Grik stepping carefully up on to the stage wearing his ritual sash and leaning on his staff.
"This is a silly trial," Sooji said. "Everyone either lies or says basically the same things. 'I'm the strongest goblin, blah blah blah.' It's going to be dull."
Grik cleared his throat, and even against the light of morning, Rusty could see that the lantern atop his staff was glowing.
"Attention, fellow Middenites!" Grik announced, his voice echoing over Midden. "Today, we gather to hear the candidates make their case for why they should become the next Great Goblin. It is a test of their charisma and their tongue. A leader must not only be admired, but be able to negotiate disputes between goblin families, maintaining the peace of Midden."
Jiwoo snorted. “Get on already.”
As if in response to Jiwoo’s grumblings, Grik threw out his arms with a shout, stepping back to allow the first candidate to ascend the mast and address the crowd from the crow’s nest.
Grizzletooth regarded them from high above, wearing a fierce scowl.
"Goblins!” He bellowed. “I am Grizzletooth, the strongest of us all! I have crushed our enemies with these very hands, defending the junkyard from the humans!"
There were cheers, though Rusty couldn’t help but note that Grizzletooth had been absent during the last raid. Had he been there to help the Great Goblin, things might have turned out differently. Grizzletooth’s statement quickly devolved into unintelligible roars and shouts, which the goblins seemed to enjoy, many of them joining in. It was far from the worst performance of the day. Slink didn’t even take part. Grik called for her, and she was nowhere to be found, so he moved on to the next name on the list.
Sparkfizz, true to form, lifted his arms and shot fireworks into the sky. The crowd gasped at the detonations, many covering their faces. The initial display was safe enough, the colorful sparks and curling flames flying high into the air. There was a brief panic as a stray orb dropped into a group of spectators close to the stage, but no one was seriously hurt, and Grik shouted for the [Firestarter] to come down. Sparkfizz complied, shouting promises that there was more to come, and left the stage with a skip in his step.
“Psycho,” Jiwoo muttered.
“I admit,” Sooji said, “not as boring as I thought it would be.”
Jiho sauntered up when his name was called, plastering on a broad smile. He surveyed the crowd and winked at the females closest to him before launching into a monologue.
"Friends, gobbos, junkyardians, lend me your ears! I come to bury the weaknesses of our past leaders and claim my rightful place as your Great Goblin. I shall bring forth a new era for our tribe, for I alone possess the intellect and cunning needed to lead us."
As Jiho continued, carried away by his own self-righteous fervor, Rusty could feel the crowd's mood shifting. Faces twisted in anger, and the whispers of [Songstealer] and ‘coward’ began anew.
"For too long, you have been led by fools and brutes," Jiho continued, oblivious to the reaction he was getting. "But fear not, for I am here to release you from their incompetence. As your new leader, I will elevate our tribe to heights never before imagined!"
"Arrogant swine!" someone shouted from the audience. Others joined in, booing, and jeering at Jiho, whose face darkened in anger.
“Idiots!” He screamed. “Fools! You will respect me! I am a golden god to you people!”
Jiwoo was laughing through the entire performance.
"Looks like he didn't win them over," Sooji remarked dryly. They watched Grik banging on the mast to get Johi to come down. He did so, still exchanging insults with the hecklers, and stomped off the stage.
"Now for another fool!" Grik announced, his voice barely audible above the noise of the spectators. “Seok!”
As her cousin made his way up, Sooji leaned over to Jiwoo and whispered, "I bet he's going to flex for them."
“Taken.” Jiwoo agreed. “Two egg minimum.”
Chul giggled, his eyes following Seok as he approached center stage. Rather than shimmying up the mast, as the others had done, he struck a pose, and a troop of musicians sprang up onto the platform behind him, carrying lyres and drums.
To the bafflement of the entire assembly, the musicians began to play.
Seok closed his eyes for a moment, lost in the music. Then, with uncharacteristic grace, he sprang into motion. His movements were fluid and practiced, each step perfectly timed to the rhythm of the lyre. The audience watched, transfixed by the unexpected performance, their previous jeers falling away to sheer bewilderment.
When the last notes faded, a hush filled the air, followed by scattered applause.
"He always did like to dance when Jiho sang," Jiwoo murmured, his face drooping into melancholy.
"Where did he find that band?" Sooji commented, impressed by Seok’s resourcefulness more than his performance.
“I liked it,” Chul said, and Rusty had to agree. He wasn’t sure how it would convince anyone to elect Seok as their leader, but it was a side of the goblin he hadn’t expected to see. Jiho and Seok returned to the gang in vastly different moods, stifling any conversation. Jiho's anger pulsed through the group like a live wire, his resentment a challenge to anyone who dared comment. Seok seemed distant, almost disoriented, as if the dance had surprised him as much as anyone else.
As Rusty looked around, he saw queer looks and curious glances cast their way from the goblin assembly, somewhere between wonder and bafflement. Jiho’s contentious oratory at least appeared to be forgotten.
The trial was far from over. Most of the rest went along the lines Sooji had predicted; brash promises of supremacy and demands for recognition. The audience grew restless, responding with jeers more often than cheers as the ceremony went on.
"Chul!" Grik called out, and the young goblin jumped up so quickly that his hat fell from his head.
“Oh yeah,” he said, scrambling to collect it, “I forgot I had to talk.”
Sooji groaned.
Rusty followed his friend to the platform and paused at the mast. There was no ladder or rope to aid in the ascent, and Rusty doubted his ability to make it to the top.
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“S’okay,” Chul told him. “You can wait down here, and just, I don’t know, jump in when you want to.”
“Do you actually have a speech prepared?” Rusty asked.
“Nah,” Chul shrugged. “But I’ll figure something out.”
Rusty watched his friend scale the mast, admiring the ease with which he did so, and turned to face the assembly. The goblins whispered among themselves, some gesturing at Rusty. And when Chul began to speak, his voice was too small for any but the closest spectators to hear.
"Um, so, I've been thinking a lot about rats lately."
There was a cough from the audience.
“Speak up!” someone yelled.
“I said I’ve been thinking about rats!” Chul screamed, and the crowd went silent.
"Y'know," Chul continued, his voice high and small, "rats are kind of like us gobbos. They scurry around, just trying to survive. I saw one gnawing on a broken glass bottle the other day, and I thought, that must not taste very good little buddy, so why are you chewing on it? But I guess it was all he had."
"And then there was that rusty spoon I found near the wall," Chul rambled on, oblivious to the audience's confusion. "It was all ugly and dull, but I polished it up, and sharpened it like you do, and it was there for me when I needed to stab that [Ranger] in the neck. You see?"
Rusty wasn’t sure what part he was meant to play in Chul’s stream-of-consciousness presentation, but since Chul paused when he asked the question, Rusty chose that moment to spread his wings and raise himself up on his hind legs. The crowd didn’t know what to make of this, and Chul continued.
"What I mean is like...I used to be a rat; you know. So, I lived with rats. And then I met my scaly dog, and I realized I didn’t have to be a rat if I didn’t want to. I don’t think any of us have to be rats. I can be a scaly dog, and I’m just a little gobbo, you know. So…I guess anybody can be one if you want. A scaly dog, I mean, or a sharp spoon, or something."
Rusty looked out among the sea of green gazes and saw Sooji hiding her face with her hands. Jiwoo, however, stared with rapt attention. There were others as well, mesmerized by Chul’s words, seeming to take more from them than their simple narrative would suggest. Rusty spotted the goblin crone who had given Chul her pledge after the first trial. She was crying.
“So, what I’m saying is,” Chul drew the statement out, struggling to find his train of thought once more, “I don’t know if I should be the Great Goblin. But you can pick me if you want.”
Chul slid down the mast in silence that followed, landing lightly on his feet.
"No more rats!" one elderly goblin cried, raising his fist into the air on the end of spindly arm.
"I want to be a scaly dog!” Someone else yelled, and the quiet that had descended during Chul’s speech was shattered by a tremendous roar. They were cheering and shouting and waving their arms. There were a few boos from supporters of the other candidates, leading to angry words from those around them. Several fights broke out, and shortly afterward, the entire mass of goblins was in chaos.
Rusty had no idea how Chul could have garnered this level of a reaction. It had been a nice speech, in its way, despite its meandering, and he knew there was a message there. Things could change. Goblins could be better. Other candidates had said similar things, though in a more straightforward manner, and it hadn’t gotten them anywhere near this kind of response.
"Chul for Great Goblin!" Someone cried, and others picked it up, growing in volume until it became a chant that shook the stage. There was more fighting, and Grik was banging his staff on the platform, demanding that the goblins control themselves. His pleas had no visible effect.
The trial was over. There were still a couple of names that hadn’t been called, and they never were.
Shortly thereafter, the candidates assembled on the pledging platforms. As the trial had not been the sort with an obvious win condition, they could stand where they liked, and Chul and Rusty were comfortable joining Jiho and Seok on the lower platform, where there was space.
More goblins came to give their pledges on this day than there had been after any of the previous trials. Jiho gained no new followers, and in fact, may have lost some. Most of the other candidates received similar levels of support to what they had gotten in the previous days and Slink was not even present.
Froglick shook Chul’s hand before the pledges began pouring in, congratulating him on his progress, and telling him he was a credit to the [Marsh Warden]s. Chul apologized if his speech had seemed offensive to rats, as Froglick had a rat for a companion, but the older goblin only laughed as if he had made a clever joke. Grizzletooth stood stoically apart, but he gave the gang a nod, while Sparkfizz didn’t come up onto the platform at all. Instead, he remained on the ground, sending up the occasional burst of sparks, wandering around, cackling, and accepting pledges as he went.
Most of the candidates had dropped out, but Rusty was coming to recognize those who remained. Heavyarm was still in the competition, though his standoffish manner and lack of success in the trials meant he hadn’t won many new followers. There was also Mudroot, a [Shaman], Leafsniffer, an [Herbalist], and Yellsmash, a [Screamer]. Windskip made the rounds, greeting other candidates, and goblins everywhere seemed to respect him, even if his following wasn’t as impressive as some.
Chul was once again overwhelmed by the attention he received, and Rusty noted the most effusive praise, and many of his new pledges, came from the oldest goblins. A wrinkled elder hobbled over, so curdled by age that Rusty could only guess that he was male. He stood with the aid of a child; his milky eyes wet as he touched Chul’s face.
"I heard you," he rasped, clutching Chul's hand. "I heard you."
“Thanks,” Chul said. “I was talking as loud as I could.”
“Tomorrow,” Grik told them. “The melee. May the blessings of the Great Mother be with you all.”
********
Under the cold, star-speckled sky, beneath the planks and rods that made up the canopy of the Creaking Forest, the gang huddled together around a dim campfire, discussing strategy for the following day.
"Since it’s a melee," Jiwoo began, his voice low and serious, "there can only be one winner, but you three can work together until the end." He glanced at Jiho, Seok, and Chul, who all nodded in agreement.
Sooji's brow furrowed in concern as she glanced at Chul, the firelight casting shadows across her face and over the pillar of her bright orange hair. "Chul," she said carefully, "you've done amazing. I never thought you would get this far. But there are still much stronger goblins in this trial, and you could die in that melee."
“You haven’t supported us in any of this,” Jiho said coldly. “Maybe tomorrow, you can pray.”
“I will,” Sooji said, shrinking back from her brother’s accusation. “But I still think this is a bad idea.”
“What level are you now?” Seok asked.
“Six,” Chul answered, puffing out his chest.
“Will you take [Marksmanship], at least,” Jiho begged.
“I put it into [Terrain Mastery],” Chul said. “The advanced skill it opens up is really cool.”
The experience Rusty had gained from adding the rest of the gang’s collections to his hoard had brought him to level four. Dragons gained an attribute boost every five levels, while goblins got them faster, the [Systems] way of compensating for their low starting stats. It had occurred to Rusty that since goblins could gain and lose levels almost instantly through the pledge mechanic, they could abuse it to receive the attribute bonus over and over, but Jiho had explained that because the attribute bonus was permanent, it would only occur on the first time they achieved a given level. Attributes could also be improved through persistent training, but it took a long time and a lot of effort, so none of Rusty’s attributes had changed since he hatched, except for the odd occurrence of his [Wits] stat being readjusted.
By advancing to level four, he had gained ten skill points to assign. Given the circumstances, he’d invested all of them into [Physical Mastery] and his breath weapon, which brought them to ranks eight and five, respectively. His claws were sharper, and his scales were harder. Though he hadn’t tested out his breath weapon yet, he suspected it could now do more than stun a big rat. It had taken a lot of willpower not to put any more points into [Material Mastery], which would have allowed him to sense junkyard treasures at a greater range and in more detail, but he’d promised himself that he would do so later.
Jiho scowled, making his face appear even sharper than usual. "If we all make it to the end," he grated, "you two should concede to me."
Seok shrugged, his shoulders flexing with the movement. "I'm fine with that. I'm not sure if I'm ready to be the Great Goblin, and you’re still the smartest one here, Jiho."
Chul frowned, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "I don't know if that's right," he said carefully. "He is the smartest, but more people want me to be the leader than Jiho."
Sooji cut in before an argument could begin. "Our priority should be survival. If any of you are hurt or think you're about to be killed, you need to surrender and leave the arena."
Seok's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "I don't surrender," he growled.
Jiho scoffed at Sooji's caution, rolling his eyes dismissively. "We'll be fine."
A mix of fear and determination swirled within Rusty’s chest. He agreed with Sooji that the best thing for them to do would be to withdraw. Chul was popular enough that the new Great Goblin, whoever it was, would welcome the gang into the Midden Tribe. He knew, however, that Seok and Jiho were determined to go forward, despite being woefully outmatched by the competition. Chul would never let his family fight without being there to help them. Rusty felt that certainty through their bond, which meant he was bound to go as well to protect Chul.
As the night progressed, Rusty was amazed at the gang’s ability to drop straight to sleep while he tossed and turned. Eventually, he did succumb, only to be troubled by more nightmares.
He dreamt of an old man crushed under a mountain of newspapers, his face contorted in pain and fear. Rusty awoke with his heart pounding in his chest. This dream had been worse than the others. He’d never seen the old man before, but the terror and despair the man felt as he died had seemed as real as if they were something Rusty had experienced himself. Was the old man Russel Garfield?
As he lay there, trying to piece together the fragments of another world that were flying through his mind, he noticed a deeper space of shadow fall across Chul. Rusty's breath caught in his throat as he recognized Slink crouching beside them, poised to strike. But instead of attacking, Slink held a finger to the cloth covering her lips, signaling for Rusty to remain quiet.
Rusty obeyed, watching the silent goblin warily, curiosity and caution warring within him. A moment later, he heard the soft crunch of feet moving across the detritus of the junkyard. Slink's shadowy figure remained unnoticed by the intruders as they closed in, not on Chul and Rusty, but on Jiho, who was sleeping on the other side of the dead campfire. Slink moved in a blink, the edge of a small knife barely visible in her hand, and a choked gurgle was all that escaped the first goblin's lips before he crumpled to the ground, grasping at his throat.
Rusty sprang up, hissing fiercely and flapping his wings to make himself appear larger. Panic spread across the faces of the two remaining would-be assassins, and they fled into the night.
"Wha-?" Chul mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes. "Had the weirdest dream...human drowning in trash." He yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head, only to freeze when he spotted Slink standing nearby, wiping blood from her knife. "Um, hi there," Chul said cautiously. "What brings you here?"
The rest of the gang stirred. The confrontation had been over so quickly that it had hardly disturbed them, but Jiho had come awake from the sounds of the goblin still dying beside him. He jumped to his feet, brandishing his scissors.
"What’s this?” he demanded, backing away from Slink. “You afraid to face me in the arena?”
“She saved you,” Rusty said, “look.”
Jiho’s attention turned to the goblin at his feet.
“Oh,” he said. “What’s this now?”
“Why’d you help us?” Chul asked the silent [Sneakstabber].
She gave no reply, turning from the gang and slipping off into the darkness.
“Thanks!” Chul called after her. “Nice meeting you!”
The others were waking up, and Rusty explained the situation to them. Jiwoo received the news stoically, nodding as if it was nothing he hadn’t expected, while Sooji took it as a confirmation of her fears, begging Jiho to give up on his spot in the coming melee.
"Even if Slink did help us, we shouldn't trust her," Jiho muttered, ignoring his sister. "This could be a setup to make us think she’s on our side tomorrow."
Sooji frowned, mulling over Jiho's words for a moment before responding. "If Slink wanted any of us dead, she could have easily killed us in our sleep. You realize that, right?"
"That’s all the more reason not to trust her." Jiho insisted, unwilling to give up on his suspicions.
As they debated Slink's motivations, Rusty dwelled on the scraps of his dream that were still fresh in his mind. There were things he remembered about his old world, if not his old life. The newspapers had seemed perfectly ordinary to him, even though he hadn’t seen anything like them since being reborn, and he knew the carriage he’d been riding in with a family in earlier dreams had been a car. He knew what cars were, and planes, and electricity, and guns. His impressions from his previous life were becoming more clear instead of less since he’d stopped taking the tincture of dankroot, or maybe since the puzzle trial. But he hadn’t recognized the man or remembered the names of the family in the car.
"Chul, do you ever have weird dreams?" Rusty asked softly, not wanting to disturb the others.
"Sure, all the time!" Chul replied, grinning widely. "Sometimes I even have them when I'm awake. You shouldn't worry about it too much, Rusty. Dreams are just... dreams."
But he knew these weren’t just dreams. They were memories. Maybe Jiho was right, and the best thing to do was try to forget it. He didn’t want to go crazy, and these images and ideas weren’t of any use to him here. It wasn’t as if he was going to try to reinvent electricity or tell people about guns; if this world didn’t have them already, it was better off without them. But a part of him wanted to know who those people had been, even if just thinking about it hurt.
They had run out of food during the day. Their supplies from the den were gone, and Jiwoo’s limitless supply of mystery eggs had run dry. Across from him, Seok gnawed on a stick, the sound of his teeth grinding against the wood punctuating the stillness of the night. Rusty’s stomach complained. He was a growing dragon, but the last thing he cared about then was finding a meal.
Somehow, Jiwoo and Chul went back to sleep, while the rest of the gang kept watch until dawn.