Goblins on the Prowl (11 page)

That was all the warning we had before the attack.

Being court scribbler is a solitary life. Most of my time is spent alone, wrestling with words that refuse to behave as I wish them to. On the other hand, I get to be in attendance at great events!

—Stanklo the Scribbler

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SOPHRONIA

A mischief of headband-wearing scamps had crept up the far side of the ridge. Now they flung themselves at us.

Igor thrashed around him with his bear. “Bop! Bop! Bop!” he roared. “Boppity bop bop!”

Goblins flew in all directions.

Bwoonhiwda didn't have room to spin in a circle the way she did the first time we were attacked. So she just picked up goblins and threw them.

They went a long way.

Herky leaped onto an attacker's leg and chomped down on it. The big goblin howled and tried to pull him off, but Herky clung tight.

Werdolphus began popping up beside goblins and shouting into their ears. His voice, seeming to come from nowhere, distracted and frightened them.

As for me, I pulled out my knife and held it in front of me. The goblins kept a distance from it. But I had nothing to cover my back, and one of them leaped onto me from behind. I fell face-first. He pinned me down, shouting, “The stone! Give me the stone!”

I struggled but couldn't get up. Then I heard a hiss, and the goblin holding me down shrieked in pain.

Sterngrim had returned!

The goblin grabbed at the lindling, who was clawing his head. As he did, I rolled out from under him.

Scrambling to my feet, I saw more goblins racing toward us. I was terrified until I realized these goblins were not wearing red headbands. Shouting “For king and Nilbog!” they plunged into the battle, attacking our attackers. Soon goblins were bouncing and bounding all over. Soon after that the red headband group ran, yelping, into the darkness.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I whispered to Sterngrim, who was once more perched on my shoulder.

“It was nothing,” she said. Then she gave my ear a little nip and whapped the back of my head with one of her wings.

The leader of the mischief that had come to our rescue stuck his finger into his nose and nodded, which I took to be some kind of goblin salute. “I am Grickle, leader of the Seventh Mischief and Marching Society. Welcome to Nilbog, Fauna Goblin Friend. Why do you have a winged lindling on your shoulder? Would you like me to kill it for you?”

Glad that Sterngrim couldn't understand him, I said fiercely, “She is my friend!”

Grickle looked at me oddly but went on to greet the others.

“Welcome, Igor Goblin Friend. Welcome, Herky, goblinspawn. Welcome . . . er, welcome, big strong woman.”

“Her name Bwoonhiwda,” Igor said.

Grickle nodded. “Welcome, Bwoonhiwda.”

“Hey, I'm here too,” Werdolphus said.

The voice from nowhere caused Grickle to jump, so I had to explain about having a ghost with us. When I was done, I said, “Thank you for driving off those other goblins. Do you know why they attacked us?”

Grickle shook his head. “We don't understand what is happening with the scamps. We've had reports of some going topside, and we have reports of others prowling the outer caverns. But this is the first I know of
them attacking anyone. I'm glad we reached you when we did. We were coming to escort you to Castle Nilbog.”

I started to ask how he had known we were coming, then realized Bonecracker John must have sent that little messenger lizard back with the news.

“You did arrive just in time,” I said. “And we thank you for your help. But we are not heading for the ­castle. We are on a mission.”

The goblin scowled. “You are a Goblin Friend, but that does not give you free rein to wander about ­Nilbog without first coming to see King Nidrash. He has sent for you, and it would be rude and ungoblinlike not to go.”

“You don't understand! We are looking for
the
­William. He has been captured by a giant toad.”

“The king is aware of that. He is also aware of his debt to William, and to you, and that it is enormous. But he insists you come anyway.” He leaned forward and whispered, “There is someone you must meet. I am not free to say who, but I can tell you that the king feels it may help you in your quest.”

I sighed. It looked like we would be going to the castle after all.

I hoped I could manage to stay out of the dungeon this time!

Entering Nilbog City made me sad. The first time I'd been there, I had not fully understood the damage that had occurred during the years of the goblins' captivity. Now that Wongo had explained it, I couldn't help but be aware of the decay that had overtaken Nilbog.

One thing that had not suffered—or perhaps had been repaired already—was the stone bridge that leads from the edge of the underground lake to the castle. I marveled again at the rubies, emeralds, ­sapphires, and diamonds that studded its surface. Bigger than eyeballs, any one of them would have been worth a fortune in the upper world.

We passed through tall wooden doors and into the long corridor that leads to the enormous Throne Room.

The last time I'd been in that room, it had been crowded with happy, boisterous goblins. Now it was nearly empty. On the throne, which rested atop a dais four steps high, sat the king. He looked gloomy, but at least he was in one piece. This was better than when his head had been in a wooden box and his body had been locked in the top of one of the towers.

When he saw us, King Nidrash stood and spread his arms. He was big for a goblin, an inch or two taller
than me. “Welcome, Goblin Friends,” he said. His voice was soft and subdued, and despite his smile I could hear sadness in it.

On the third step of the stone dais sat Borg, the elderly goblin who was the king's counselor. He, too, had risen when we came in, but had soon sat again.

Once we had introduced Bwoonhiwda and Werdolphus, the king said, “Again you come to us in time of need, Fauna.”

I was surprised that he spoke directly to me rather than to one of the adults. But it made sense, in a way. Having a conversation with Igor was always difficult, and Bwoonhiwda and Werdolphus were newcomers. I was the one the king already knew.

I bowed, then said, “What is your need, King Nidrash?”

“A wizard named Helagon has been stirring up discontent among my goblins. The joy and energy of Nilbog are being drained away. It is worst among the young. The scamps have become rebellious, and many have run away. Goblin mothers are in despair.”

“I do not know what we can do to change this.”

He raised a hand. “Let me finish. Last night one of the scamps came back. He returned because he had become frightened of what Helagon is up to and
had decided to let us know about it. This is why I have brought you here. I know you are seeking
the
William. But I am quite certain that our problem with Helagon and your problem with William and the stone toad are woven together.”

“That's interesting,” said a voice from beside me.

While everyone else was looking around, trying to see where the voice had come from, I cried, “William! You're back!”

“I thought it was time for another Sleep Walk.”

The king blinked. “Where is he? I hear him but cannot see him!”

I explained about the Sleep Walk potion. The king seemed to find this perfectly sensible. When I was done, he closed one eye, then pressed a finger on either side of his other eye, causing it to bulge out in a disturbing way. “Ah, there you are!” he cried. “Most glad to see you, William. Can you tell us where your body is?”

William shook his head. “Somewhere in Nilbog, I'm certain. But
exactly
where, I couldn't say. We've moved around a lot. I get the feeling the toad is afraid of something. I can't explore unless I do a Sleep Walk, and as soon as I drank the potion, I came straight to Fauna to find out what's been happening.”

At that moment another goblin came stumbling into the room. He was nearly as tall as the king, and quite skinny for a goblin. He had bare feet and wore a badly stained robe. As he got closer, I saw that the stains were from ink. His orange hands were ­speckled with ink too. I figured this must be John's friend Stanklo.

“I just got word of our visitors!” he burst out. “Are we going to take them to see her? You know I must be present if I am to record such events.”

“See who?” I asked.

Borg heaved himself to his feet once more. Gasping a bit, he said, “We have a visitor who knows a great deal about the toad and where it came from. Shall I lead them to her, O my king?”

“Let's all go,” Nidrash replied.

He led us behind the throne, where we entered a stone tunnel. Just inside the tunnel was a rack of glowing-fungus torches. Each of us with a body took one.

The passage sloped downward. It forked several times, which made it hard to keep track of our route. My stomach grew tight. The trip was bringing up memories of being in the goblin dungeon the year before, which was not an experience I wanted to repeat. I
thought we could trust the king, but I wasn't entirely certain.

At last we entered a cave about the size of the one where we had met Wongo. On its far side was a rounded white wall. As we approached, a burst of light from behind the wall revealed that it was not white but made of clear crystal.

On the other side of the crystal wall stood a beautiful woman. She was dressed in a white robe and had long red hair that hung nearly to her waist. Something twitched at the back of my mind when I saw her, and I thought,
Why does she look so familiar?

“It the book lady!” Igor shouted.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The book lady! The one who tell Igor to give book to William.”

“Yes, that's Sophronia,” Werdolphus confirmed.

The woman didn't seem disturbed at a voice coming from nowhere. Did this mean she could see him? Or was she just used to ghosts?

“Why are you behind that wall?” I asked.

“Who's that?” she asked. “Is the king with you?”

“I'm here,” said the king. Turning to us, he explained, “She can't see us. The wall is clear only from this side.”

Well, that explained why she hadn't been disturbed
by not seeing Werdolphus. She couldn't see any of us!

When the king told Sophronia who he had with him, she cried, “Thank goodness! There is much you need to know, and time is running out.”

“Why are you behind that wall?” I asked again. “Are you a prisoner?”

“No, no. The goblins are protecting me, for which I owe them great thanks. A wizard named Helagon is after me. If he captures me, he will . . . Well, I might be persuaded to give him information he desperately desires but must not have. This chamber blocks my magic so that he cannot find me.”

“What do you do foh food and dwink?” Bwoon­hiwda asked.

“Once a day the goblins bring them to me. We raise the crystal wall by a couple of inches, and they quickly slide them through. Then we seal it again. Now listen! There are things you need to know—things I would have told you at the Baron's castle had I not been prevented from reaching you. And there are things I need to know as well. Tell me quickly, please, what happened the night the toad came to life.”

Since William and I were the only ones who had been there when it happened, it was up to us to tell the story. Sophronia's eyes grew wide as we spoke, but she
let us tell everything—including what we had done since—without interrupting.

When I retold Bonecracker John's story about the giant and the wicked wizard, William exclaimed, “So
that's
where the toad came from! If I had known that, we wouldn't have messed around with it.”

“I intended for you to ‘mess around' with it,” Sophronia replied. “It's why I brought the book. Only, I planned to be there with you when you used it.”

“So where were you when we needed you?” I asked angrily.

Sophronia's eyes grew dark. “Someone betrayed me to my enemies, and I was being pursued. When I reached the castle, I left the book with Igor so that if I was caught, it would not be lost. Then I fled to draw the enemy away. I'd hoped to return the next night, but the pursuit was relentless. I managed to elude it long enough to find shelter here in Nilbog, many thanks to the king. Now listen! Time is pressing. Old John's story of Harry and the wizard is true as far as it goes. But, as with so many tales, there is another level, one that will completely change the way you view it. And you have a lot to do with it, William.”

“How can I have anything to do with it? It happened before I was born!”

“Just listen! What John told your friends was the exact story my husband and I wanted people to believe. But there is a story
beneath
that story, a story about a game of power that has stretched across centuries. Now that game has reached its crisis point. The danger is rising, and if things go amiss, there will be fearsome consequences . . . beginning with the destruction of Nilbog.”