The Goblin Deception, page 2
Isla’s words caught in her throat. Goblins did not lie, but she couldn’t think of a deflection from the direct question fast enough.
Extending the box to her, Galhad gave a soft smile. “I know you have worked hard to control your abilities, Isla, but given the suspicious circumstances surrounding these ‘accidents,’ now more than ever, no one can know about your curse. And I cannot keep you at my side forever, no matter how much I would selfishly like to do so. I think it might be time for you to go on your roaming.”
Eyes wide, Isla took the box from her father with gentle hands, her heart racing at the thought of what could be inside. His meaning didn’t sink in until she lifted the lid and saw a glistening dagger nestled in black satin. The smooth black leather-wrapped handle with thin gold trim led up to a simple silver blade that reflected a blurry image of her own awed face. At the base of the dagger’s blade, in the centre of the crossguard, was an engraved sigil: a fist holding a leafy branch. It appeared again on the plain black scabbard, embroidered in gold, and Isla didn’t recognize it at all.
“Father…” Isla couldn’t find the words. Her heart thundered in her chest now. Receiving a blade was a tradition for young goblins before they left for their roaming journey. “What is this sigil?”
“It is yours, Isla. I combined the symbol of the strong fist from the Calchlan clan with the thistle, beautiful but tough. I believe this represents your strength and your grace. I hope you do not mind my sentiment,” he said, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“I-I don’t understand.” Her voice shook, breathy from shock. All Isla had ever known was her village. Any dreams of something more had involved military training, maybe shadowing more of Mica’s duties, or finally getting to try her hand at a trade. She never imagined she would actually leave. “You always said I couldn’t train with the others because of the risk of revealing my ability. Going roaming, seeing other clans, meeting humans … would be a huge risk.”
Galhad dipped his chin. “I always kept you away from training and trade-schooling for your safety. You had such little control of your invisibility when you were young. I … I admit that I was afraid, Isla. I was afraid that if you participated in those activities, something might provoke you to reveal yourself. I thought you were better off using that time to master your power. But I know that my decision deprived you of many experiences.”
Isla’s jaw dropped, her hands quivering on the box. She always knew why she hadn’t been allowed the normal upbringing a goblin should have, but to hear that her father had been afraid? It rattled her.
“But your curse is only a curse in our village, Isla. You know that. Out in the world, it may even be considered a gift. One you would not have to hide.” Galhad’s soft words floated in her ears, carrying with them a heavy sadness that made her eyes burn with the threat of tears. “You have made a place for yourself here in spite of carrying this burden, but it means always having to hide a part of yourself. I want you to experience freedom and see what other options are open to you. And of course, you can always come back. Though you will have to be sure not to visit the other goblin villages while you roam. If this meeting goes to plan, and we are able to establish a communications network amongst all goblinkind, then any news of your ability would be sure to reach us.”
Isla looked up to see the apologetic look on her father’s face. “There are always paths expected of us, and even paths chosen for us. It requires great courage to forge the paths we choose for ourselves.” He smiled. “You could be more, Isla. I want to give you the chance to find out.”
Shaking her head, Isla closed the lid of the case with a firm snap and held it out to her father with a jerk. “I don’t think I’m ready.” All her life, she had had a specific place in her village — at his side. Even with his encouragement, she couldn’t imagine actually leaving.
Gently, Galhad pushed the box back toward her. “Think about it. You can wait until after the proceedings to decide. Though while the chiefs are here, you will have to be extra vigilant, Isla. I mean no use of your ability at all,” he warned her, his tone becoming firm.
With a robotic nod, Isla pulled the dagger and scabbard out of the box, placing the empty container on Galhad’s desk. She carefully slid the blade into its case, rubbing her thumb along the golden insignia before strapping the dagger to her hip. It was hidden nicely beneath her jacket, but she could feel its weight.
The timing of her father’s request made sense. If the village knew Isla could turn invisible, it would make her an instant suspect. Worse, they would probably blame her for any number of past misfortunes, since she carried Talbot’s curse, and would believe she had been corrupted by the evil that he had inflicted upon the village. She could be exiled, or even executed, if they found out about her.
But Isla had hidden her abilities from everyone for eighty-three years; she was confident her people would never find out. It was more important to her to be here with them, to support Galhad’s vision of unifying goblinkind. Even if she wished she could be more than an administrator, maybe helping to see the proceedings go off smoothly would be enough to convince her father to let her integrate more with the rest of the village rather than run away from it.
“In the meantime—” Galhad began to say but was cut off by a knock at the door. Lieutenant Jordan, a young goblin woman with faint freckles and dark blonde hair tied back in a high bun, poked her head in the door. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Galhad, but we have visitors.”
Galhad frowned. “Has one of the other chiefs arrived early?”
Jordan shook her head. “No, they’re … strangers.”
Sharing a confused look with Isla, Galhad immediately made for the door. Isla was close on his heels. The village never got strangers. Sometimes curious hikers found the road near the base of the mountain that led up to their village, but the soldiers always turned them away. Why would they bring the strangers up here?
As Jordan steered them toward the entrance of the village, Galhad asked that same question.
“The soldiers tried to turn them away at the base outpost,” Jordan explained, “but they … well, they have some news we thought you would want to hear.”
“Who are they?”
“A witch, a werewolf, and two humans,” Jordan explained, meeting Galhad’s confused look with a confirming nod. “Travelling together.”
“And what is this news they bring?”
Jordan slowed for a moment, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “They said that there’s a demon god on the loose,” she replied, her tone turning grave. “Tracking down powerful weapons from each of the magical species. And they think we could be targeted next.”
Chapter 2
Jessica
When Jessica suggested they visit the goblins, she hadn’t expected to be dragged up to a hidden village in the French Alps at spearpoint.
The plan was supposed to be to visit the goblin village, pass along the info, and be on their way, but that plan had hinged on the fact that Jessica had thought the village was still at the base of the mountain. Turns out the Grieves clan had relocated their village up into the Alps over two hundred years ago, and what remained at the bottom was only a soldiers’ outpost. Of course the soldiers had demanded the purpose of their visit, and after Jessica had explained their intent, the soldiers had loaded them up into all-terrain vehicles to take them to another outpost, which was then followed by a hike up to the plateau where the goblin village now sat.
Now Jessica was tired, cold, and irritated that her information had been so outdated. She was sure the soldiers were equally unhappy; ever since she’d suggested their village might be under threat — she really wished she’d chosen her words more carefully there — they’d kept their spears levelled directly at her and her companions, one of whom was nearly vibrating with anger.
“Nathan,” Jessica whispered under her breath, “please don’t start a fight.”
She felt his growl reverberate across her skin. “We were on planes for almost twenty hours,” he replied, “travelled across the country, hiked up a mountain, and now we’re being threatened. How do you expect me or the wolf to be calm right now?”
“Just no sudden movements,” Damien said calmly, his voice a smooth and even presence. Though when Jessica glanced at him from the corner of her eye, she noticed his jaw was tense.
With a heavy sigh, she addressed Abigail to her left. “Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t expect this.” Information about goblin lifestyle, settlements, and history were very rare. She had been relying on Nonna’s clearly outdated account of the Grieves clan.
Abby shrugged — a gesture almost lost under the thickness of her jacket. It was zipped up over her chin, and her toque was pulled down low to cover her face up to her eyebrows. All Jessica could see were the girl’s glasses, which were fogged-up. The mountain cold attacked any inch of exposed skin and could only be combated by wearing a lot of layers. Jessica hated to think what it might be like during a storm. Though the chilly air explained why mountain goblins had evolved to have much smaller, though still pointed, ears compared to the other goblin races — it saved them from losing them to frostbite.
From what Jessica could see, the mountain goblin village in front of them was a dense collection of one-story cabins, nestled into a plateau that was surrounded by small mountain peaks. There was one pointed roof sticking out in the middle of the cluster, backed against the eastern peak, but otherwise it was impossible to make out any distinctive features from where they stood.
We’re here now. Might as well see it through. She had an emergency transportation spell in the back of her mind ready in case they needed to escape.
A small group appeared from between the cabins. They were led by a mountain goblin with a thick auburn beard and dense head of curls. He was somewhere between Damien and Nathan in height, but his presence made him feel towering. He had a wide nose and jawline, and thick eyebrows shadowing aged blue eyes. He was an imposing figure, both in face and in stature, and from the way he carried himself, Jessica guessed he must be a leader.
Next to him was the blonde soldier who had helped ‘escort’ them up to the village; on his other side was a surprisingly short mountain goblin with dark chestnut-brown hair that flowed down to her collarbone and long bangs that framed her round face. Though both the chief and the soldier had a glint of curious excitement in their eyes, the smaller goblin looked tensely serious.
The soldiers parted and lifted their spears, making room for the new arrivals.
The leader placed his hands on his hips and scanned their small group with his eyebrows knitted together. “I am Galhad, Chief of this village. State your names and your business.” Like the soldiers, he had a thick French accent.
“My name is Jessica,” she replied, though they had already been through this with the soldiers. “This is Nathan, Damien, and Abigail. We’re travellers on our way to Spain, and we had some news to share. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” She glanced at the lieutenant. “We simply wanted to have a word and be on our way.”
“Bringing news of a possible deadly threat against our village does not sound like a simple conversation.”
Pursing her lips, Jessica nodded in begrudging agreement. “We didn’t expect to be arriving so late. Our information as to your location was … outdated,” she explained, glancing at the sinking sun. Nathan growled beside her, and she shot him a warning glare.
“We’re only looking to share our story, nothing more,” Jessica pressed. She knew stories were highly valued in goblin culture and hoped that would be enough to get this meeting moving.
Though Galhad’s expression was tense, there was a gleam in his eye that made Jessica hopeful. “You know your audience well,” he murmured. Jessica relaxed but caught the short goblin next to him rolling her eyes.
“I would like to hear what you have to share,” the goblin leader decided. Both the short goblin and the soldier looked at him sharply, but if he noticed, he didn’t address it. “But as you have said, it is late, and I am sure you have had quite the journey.” Turning to his soldiers, Galhad gave them a smirk and said in French, “We will let them stay. Hopefully it will provide some amusement for the evening.”
Jessica heard Abigail huff next to her — they were both able to understand the snarky quip perfectly — and smiled. “We’ll do our best to entertain,” she replied, also in French.
Galhad’s eyes widened a fraction, but then he gave an approving nod. “Isla,” he said to the short goblin girl, switching back to English, “take them to the tavern and have Felix set up their lodging.” He gave Jessica another once-over. “We will speak at first light.”
The short goblin — Isla — was frowning, but when the chief didn’t acknowledge her disapproval, she smoothed her expression and met Jessica’s gaze. “Follow me.” Her voice was lower and huskier than Jessica had anticipated.
Jessica glanced quickly at her friends. No one looked particularly pleased with the idea — other than a shaking Abigail — but they didn’t object, either.
As soon as they entered the village and Jessica took in the maze of tiny roads lined with hundreds of similar-looking cabins, her heart rate quickened. It would be hopeless to try and remember her way around. There were slight differences in the buildings around them, either in the colour of the wood or the arrangements of their stone foundations, but nothing unique enough to stand out as obvious landmarks to someone unfamiliar with them, and they were densely packed in seemingly random configurations. It felt like they’d wandered into a labyrinth, but Isla confidently led the way through one twisting street after another without looking back to see if her charges were following.
“The layout here makes no sense,” Jessica whispered to Damien at her side.
“It’s like a spiderweb,” Damien murmured back, “built out from a central point.”
The fact that he’d already figured out some pattern gave Jessica a bit of relief. “Isla?” she asked, raising her voice so their guide could hear. “How far is the tavern?”
“It’s in the centre of the village,” Isla replied over her shoulder. “Not much farther.”
Luckily the snow was well-trodden, making it much easier to walk on, and the tightly packed cabins blocked out the chilly wind that had plagued them on the way up the mountain. Jessica pursed her lips in a fruitless attempt to temper her impatience.
Once they were close to the eastern peak, the cabins gave way to the open town square. To the right was the towering building they had seen from the entrance, whose prominence made Jessica think it might be a kind of city hall. Its shallow steps were carved from dark grey stone and led up to two large wooden doors whose overhang was also made of stone. It blended in well with the rock wall behind it.
Isla steered them away and to the left, toward a different building across the main square. The front wall of the long rectangular two-storey tavern was deckled with stones and frosted-over with snow. Isla heaved open its heavy oak front door with both hands and gestured them inside.
As the door closed behind them, Jessica was immediately enveloped by a wave of warmth. Iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the room an ambient yellow glow. She’d seen lights on in the cabins outside as they’d walked, suggesting there was electricity in the village, but all the light in the tavern seemed to come from candles and a large stone fireplace at the far-right end of the room. Round wooden tables littered the space, some already occupied by a handful of customers who looked at the newcomers with open curiosity. A large wooden bar took up the left side of the back wall, with a staircase separating it from the fireplace and a low stage to the right where musicians were setting up their instruments. The staircase led to a mezzanine that wrapped around the side walls before continuing up to a second floor.
Isla stepped in front of Jessica’s group and called out, “Felix!”
A goblin with unnaturally bright blonde hair and gentle features popped up from behind the bar. “Hello!” he called back. Then he noticed Jessica and her friends and leaned across the bar top to get a better look. “Company?” Despite his lean frame, Felix had toned arms under his black t-shirt.
Isla smiled with a friendliness that surprised Jessica and crossed the room to join him. “Galhad would like them given rooms and food.”
Felix raised his eyebrows, making no effort to hide his surprise. “Even though tomorrow…?”
“Yes.” Isla cut him off in a way that raised Jessica’s suspicions and then turned to gesture to the group. “This is Jessica, Damien, Nathan, and Abigail.”
Felix came around the bar, his gaze lingering on Jessica. “You’re not just a human, are you?”
Jessica nodded, unsurprised. Most magical creatures had some level of sensitivity and could sometimes identify each other. “I’m a witch. Nathan’s a werewolf.” Excited whispers bubbled up from the patrons around them. The crowd had already grown since their arrival.
“I’m human,” Abby offered quickly.
Damien cleared his throat.
“And him,” Abby added with a giggle, pointing her thumb at the witch hunter.
“Thank you for hosting us,” Jessica said politely. “We’re sorry for the intrusion.”
“If the boss wills it, it will be done. I look forward to hearing this story.” Felix gave them a smooth smile, full of the kind of charm that Jessica suspected meant he usually got his way. Gesturing to the stairs next to the bar, he led them up to the second floor.
At the top of the stairs were five doors lining a hallway narrow enough that Jessica could have reached out and touched the walls on either side at the same time. She could feel Nathan tensing up behind her from claustrophobia.
“The one at the end is my room,” Felix explained, turning sideways so the others could see. “Don’t knock unless it’s an emergency. The first two here are bedrooms, the second on the right is a bathroom, and the last one is another bedroom. We have to keep some clear in case anyone can’t make it home tonight.” He turned to face them and pointed to the first two bedrooms, whose doors were across from each other. “You can split yourself between these two if you like.”
