The World Below, page 11
Every muscle groans. After yesterday’s efforts I suspect they were wanting a rest. The pack on my back is way too heavy, but even as my body protests, I find myself enjoying the experience of walking in the fresh morning air.
When we stop for a drink break, I take off my jacket and tie it around my waist before pulling my pack back into place. By the second stop, I am so hot, I take off my beanie. I grimace as I tidy my hair into a loose braid in an attempt to tame its wildness.
Snake has been silent the entire time and, unusually for me, I don’t feel much like talking either. It’s almost as though being somewhere less frantic is allowing my brain to slow down and relax, to appreciate the silence rather than feeling a need to fill it.
Three hours into the walk, I check the map. We will soon be at Wistman’s Wood, the goblin stronghold. At the very thought of the place, any sense of peace vanishes. I am all too aware that I don’t know what to expect and, even worse, I have no idea how to behave. I have spent my life learning what is expected of me in every possible social situation, so this realisation is mortifying.
‘What are goblins like?’ I ask, breaking the silence. ‘I mean, I always imagine them a little like Dobby from Harry Potter.’
Snake barks out a laugh. ‘You’d best keep that thought to yourself when you meet them.’
‘So, what are they like? And why is their stronghold so close to the witches’?’
I hate not knowing this stuff, and I really hate relying on Snake so much. But I do want to rescue my parents, and I can’t do that if I don’t learn more about the creatures we will be meeting.
‘Human storybooks got some things right about goblins. They are fast and mischievous. Mostly, though, they are game players. Like gnomes, they are not as well thought of as elves and witches. Even though they aren’t a lesser race, they often feel the need to ally themselves with the powerful,’ Snake says.
The snarky tone of his voice tells me he doesn’t like goblins very much. Which is interesting because he would rather go and ask for a token from them than his own people. I file that away to consider later while wondering what had happened that was so bad, he wouldn’t ask his own race for help.
‘Actually,’ Snake continues, ‘we can use that to our advantage. They like flattery, although not obvious flattery. In this instance, because of who you are, you should speak with them.’
I frown, trying to catch up. ‘Because I am an elf and you are a gnome?’
‘Exactly. And because your family is from the royal bloodline.’
‘Does it really matter that much?’ I ask.
He stops in the middle of the path and his eyes pin me in place. ‘Ever been somewhere in the human world where people speak to your friends but not to you? Where they won’t even meet your eyes?’
I’m about to tell him not to be ridiculous, people don’t behave like that in civilised society. But I bite my tongue. He is right, much as I hate to admit it. There are enough people who judge me not worthy simply because of the colour of my skin that I know what it feels like. Dad says things are better than when he was a kid, but that doesn’t mean racism has disappeared. It’s more that most people hide it better.
‘And in the World Below, you are treated like that?’
Snake nods. ‘Pretty much. Not by the lesser creatures so much, but by the others. And to be fair, most goblins are treated that way too. The only difference is, they are always playing power games, trying to trade into better positions. That earns them respect from some, fear from others, and vilification from most.’
‘That’s so sad.’ I’m liking the World Below less and less. From my current perspective, it makes medieval times sound progressive. Perhaps Mum and Dad had good reasons for keeping me away.
‘Is positioning their stronghold close to the witches’ a sign of a political alliance? Is that why you think coming here is a good idea?’
‘You’re catching on.’ He turns and starts walking. ‘Come on. I think that’s Wistman’s Wood over there.’ He points to the edge of a copse of trees.
My muscles twinge and complain as I force myself to move. I keep fit with karate and tennis, but this walking lark is a whole new ball game. It takes about another half an hour for us to reach our destination.
As we move under the shelter of the trees, I am taken aback by how dark and weird and twisted and tortured they look. I mean, these are right out of every creepy forest in every horror movie, and I can almost hear their cries of pain as we brush past them. The air is cool, and at the same time, oppressive.
Goosebumps prick my skin as I ask, ‘Do we need to go right in?’ I’m hoping the answer is no.
‘A little further, I think,’ Snake says.
I try to suppress a shudder. ‘How do you know when we’re at the right place?’
He takes a few more steps under the trees, stops, shuts his eyes, then slips his backpack from his shoulders.
‘Close your eyes,’ he tells me.
My natural instinct is to snap at him to stop ordering me around, but I do as he says, trusting he has a good reason for being so bossy.
‘What are your senses telling you?’
I peek through a single eye, thinking he can’t be serious. His face shows no sign that this is a joke, so I squeeze my eyes shut and describe everything I am sensing. ‘I smell damp earth. It is cool here. A breeze is blowing hair across my face. The rustle of leaves sounds so loud.’
‘Good. Now hold on to those feelings, listen to the trees, and block everything else from your mind.’
This sounds very new agey, and I cringe as I do as he says. Moments later, the noise in the clearing changes. The rustling is louder, and the air feels almost as though it is charged with something. The ring on the middle finger of my left hand starts to warm up, and the sensation pushes everything else out of my mind.
‘Ouch!’
‘What is it?’
The worry on Snake’s face is the first thing I see as my eyes fly open. I glance down at my ring, then look up. ‘It was…’
‘Warm?’ he asks, an excited smile forming on his lips.
‘Ah, yes. How did you know?’
He reaches up to the neck of his T-shirt and pulls out a medallion on a leather thong. ‘We are all given a token when we’re young. It’s a tool to help us learn to use magic. When your body senses or draws magic, it will warm up to show you’re doing it right.’
I stare at the ring. I felt magic? For a moment, I’m not sure how I feel about that. Actually, that’s not quite right. My head is not sure, but my body is singing.
‘Here is okay then?’ I say, dumping my pack beside his and turning away to cover my confusion.
Snake steps up beside me, his green eyes dark with concern as he flicks his fringe out of the way. ‘Here should do fine.’
I take a deep, shuddering breath, surprised to find I’m more nervous than I was when sitting my exams. You can do this, I tell myself as I turn to face Snake.
‘What do I do? Do I just call the goblin like you called the White Witch?’ I try to ignore the tingle of magic I now sense all around me and focus on the task at hand.
‘You will need to use magic to contact him. Are you okay with that?’ he asks, unable to keep the worry from his voice. I glance away, not wanting to see it written on his face.
‘I am fine with it,’ I say, my voice flat and even—controlled. My stomach, on the other hand, is churning like a washing machine on spin cycle.
‘If you’re sure….’
His tone telegraphs his doubt, and this ignites my anger. Good. Anger is better than a fear of failure.
‘What is his name?’ My voice is harsher than I mean it to be.
‘Grossman Green.’
Laughter bubbles its way up from the pit of my belly and rushes out. Once it escapes, I can’t stop it.
‘Please, don’t say anything,’ Snake says. ‘He may be listening to us.’ There is laughter in his voice as well, but he is doing a better job at holding it in than I am.
It takes a while, but finally, I am able to calm down. I close my eyes like Snake had me do before and reach out, letting the magic tingle over my skin. The ring on my finger warms up, and I start to call for the goblin, but then break down again.
I’m laughing so much, I can’t stand. Dropping onto the log behind me, I draw in some deep breaths. I don’t know why I find the name so hilarious—I just do.
‘Are you going to be able to do this?’ Snake asks. ‘I mean, without cracking up?’
His face is so stern, laughter bubbles out again. I look away and nod, unable to speak.
‘Sometime today?’
My shoulders shake. Then I can hold it in no longer. It feels good to laugh, and it is like all that tension that’s been building over the last couple of days drains out of me. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turn to Snake. ‘Yes, today.’
He raises a single eyebrow, but the twinkle in his eye shows me he also appreciated the joke.
I gulp in some air. Giggle. Then take a few more calming breaths. I remind myself of what is at stake, and the urge to laugh disappears.
‘I’m ready now,’ I tell Snake as I close my eyes and allow the magic to flow through me again. ‘I, Priscilla Crown, request an audience with Grossman Green.’
I slowly release my magic and open my eyes, prepared to wait, only to find a suited man standing beside Snake looking very out of place in the woods. Something in my face must have alerted my companion to the other man’s presence, as he turns, stumbles over a root and face plants.
The suited man sneers at Snake, as if his actions are to be expected from one such as him. Looking down his nose, he turns to me and performs a sketchy bow. ‘Princess Priscilla, I am here at your request.’
Without the supercilious twist of his lips, Grossman Green would be a moderately handsome man in his late thirties, perhaps early forties. He is dressed in a smart pinstripe suit that could be found in offices all over London but is completely out of place in the middle of a forest.
I watch Snake haul himself off the ground and move to stand behind me. Dusting leaves and forest debris from his clothes, he takes a position behind my right shoulder. The waves of distaste swirling around him are every bit as real as the magic in the air.
‘Mr Green.’ Too formal? The way Grossman stands a little straighter tells me I hit just the right note. ‘I would like for myself and my bodyguard to attend The Court Below this week, and I was hoping you would do me the honour of endorsing us so we may do so.’
My eyes widen a little. Is he actually preening? Could it be this easy?
He clears his throat and says, ‘I must respectfully decline.’
I do a double take. ‘I am sorry. You decline? You are refusing me, a member of the royal line?’ I try to sound as haughty as possible, which is actually quite haughty, but it has no effect.
‘With respect, you may be a princess, and of royal blood, even, but there is nothing you can give me that would persuade me to endorse you. Not even your pet witch’s familiar could do that.’
Pet witch? Familiar? What is he talking about?
‘I came out of courtesy when you called, but now I must go. I was in the middle of a merger meeting.’
Before I can utter a word, Grossman Green blinks out of existence. I turn to find Snake with his jaw hanging open, as confused as me.
I had just walked almost five hours to spend less than five minutes with a goblin who never had any intention of helping us. Confusion is quickly replaced with anger, and my fingers curl into fists.
‘What just happened here?’ I ask.
Snake shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he has seen either.
‘I’m not sure. The Greens always ally with the witches, who are second only to elves in the creature hierarchy. For him to have turned your request down can only mean one thing—a powerful elf got to him first.’
I frown, trying to work out what elf might want to stop me from going to the World Below. ‘You mean, someone like Giles Regis?’
Snake’s laugh is tinged with bitterness. ‘No, someone way more powerful than him.’
‘But he called me a princess. I am of the royal line. Who is more powerful than that?’
‘Exactly.’ Snake moves to pass me, running his hands through his hair. ‘I am starting to wonder if there actually is more going on here than our parents being taken before The Court to answer mundane charges.’ He pauses. ‘This isn’t right. Something else is going on here, Pris.’
Snake is clearly upset, and with my lack of knowledge of the creature world, I have no idea what would rattle him this much. ‘Like what?’
Snake’s jaw tenses. ‘I don’t know. Come on. If we want to catch that lift, we had better get a wriggle on.’
I don’t move. Is he really going to drop a bomb like that and then leave? He turns away from me, and I realise that is exactly what he is going to do. No way am I going to let that happen.
I move to follow him and trip, grabbing hold of a tree to stop myself from falling. What the…? I stare down at my feet—well, down at the vines covering my feet and winding up my ankles.
Anger is replaced by confusion. ‘Snake? What’s happening?’
I look over to find my friend struggling with his own problems. The tree behind him has reached out and wrapped its limbs around Snake, who is frantically wrestling, trying to get free.
‘Green. GREEN. Get back here,’ Snake growls as the branches grip him more tightly.
Nothing happens other than the forest pulling us in further to its clutches.
‘Mr Green, please,’ I beg.
The goblin appears, his face a mask of concern, but the hard look in his eyes tells me he knew this would happen.
‘Oh dear. I do apologise. This is Wistman’s Wood, and I thought you knew that no one leaves without sacrificing something.’ He smirks. ‘Oh, I see you didn’t know. How remiss of you not to do your research. The forest needs something of yours—any trinket will do.’
I smile sweetly at him, and my voice is sugary as I say, ‘I have nothing on me, and we are unable to get to our packs.’
‘I guess I could pay the price for you, but that would mean each of you will owe me a favour.’
Grossman Green’s smile is oily, and my stomach heaves in revulsion at the thought of owing this creature anything. I want to howl in frustration, but I am aware the vines have reached my thighs and Snake is turning a strange shade of grey. He wants to negotiate. All right, I can do that.
My minds starts ticking over what I can offer him in the real world, Nothing, I suspect, because whoever is pulling his strings is likely in the World Below.
‘Time is ticking,’ he reminds me.
I don’t know much about the creature world, but Giles Regis’s reaction to my threat gives me an idea; I may have something he wants or might need.
‘Here is my proposal. If we get to the World Below, and the plot against our parents fails, I will put in a good word with the Queen for you—tell her how you helped me out of a bind.’
Grossman Green smiles, and I think I have misjudged the situation. Then, as the grin widens, I start to wonder if I have offered him more than he could have imagined.
He reaches into his pocket, takes out a couple of pound coins, and tosses them in the air. ‘Deal,’ he says before they land, and disappears.
Snake falls to the ground as the trees release him, and it takes a moment for him to start breathing normally. The vines slowly leave my body, taking their time, almost caressing me as if they are reluctant to let me go.
I shudder as I am finally freed, then rush to Snake and help him to his feet. As he brushes himself off, I say, ‘I feel like I gave away the house when he only wanted a room.’
He shakes his head. ‘No, the bargain was fair, though it was more than the sneaky bastard deserved.’ He picks up his pack, slings it over his shoulder, and adds, ‘Come on. We were already late for our lift before this.’
He strides off, not even waiting to see if I’m following. I grab my pack and take a more sedate pace, wondering if he is annoyed at me or at Grossman.
I am well out of the oppressive air of the woods when I realise what Snake probably already had the moment Green turned us down—we’re one step closer to needing to visit the gnomes if we want to attend court.
CHAPTER 8
What Now?
Putting one foot in front of the other, I ignore my bruised ribs and the pain stabbing my chest each time I draw a breath. I can’t believe how that smug prat played us. It wasn’t enough to turn us down; he had to profit from our visit as well.
Targeting my anger at Green allows me to hide from the one thing I don’t want to think about. If I allow my mind to go there I might fall apart, and I can’t do that…. Not yet anyway.
With each step I take, my heartbeat slows, and my anger slowly drains away until I can think clearly again. I mull over our options and realise that the goblin’s refusal to help doesn’t necessarily mean we will end up in Mawnan. I’m sure there’s time to go to Bodmin and then up to Conway to the fairies.
As I begin to relax and breathe normally, something slowly dawns on me. Only a highborn elf would have enough pull to lure the goblins away from the witches. So, why is a high elf trying to prevent us from rescuing our parents from the World Below?
Gathering endorsements will be difficult enough without someone actively working against us. Do we even still have a chance?
Our next visit is to the sprites. Would they give in to a high elf’s request to refuse us? They are mercurial creatures, so it is difficult to predict their reaction.
Gnomes will never side with elves against me, a voice inside my head whispers. I shut it out. I’m not ready to go there yet.
The fairies in Conway also have no allegiance to any particular higher race, and…. It hits me like a sledgehammer. I swing round to find Pris is a long way behind me, and my face colours in shame. We are supposed to be in this together, and I took off without her. I stop and wait for her to catch me up.
When she finally joins me, I know I should apologise for my bad manners, but I can’t find the words. Instead, I say, ‘Pris, did you take our itinerary to bed with you the night before last, or did you leave it in the dining room?’
When we stop for a drink break, I take off my jacket and tie it around my waist before pulling my pack back into place. By the second stop, I am so hot, I take off my beanie. I grimace as I tidy my hair into a loose braid in an attempt to tame its wildness.
Snake has been silent the entire time and, unusually for me, I don’t feel much like talking either. It’s almost as though being somewhere less frantic is allowing my brain to slow down and relax, to appreciate the silence rather than feeling a need to fill it.
Three hours into the walk, I check the map. We will soon be at Wistman’s Wood, the goblin stronghold. At the very thought of the place, any sense of peace vanishes. I am all too aware that I don’t know what to expect and, even worse, I have no idea how to behave. I have spent my life learning what is expected of me in every possible social situation, so this realisation is mortifying.
‘What are goblins like?’ I ask, breaking the silence. ‘I mean, I always imagine them a little like Dobby from Harry Potter.’
Snake barks out a laugh. ‘You’d best keep that thought to yourself when you meet them.’
‘So, what are they like? And why is their stronghold so close to the witches’?’
I hate not knowing this stuff, and I really hate relying on Snake so much. But I do want to rescue my parents, and I can’t do that if I don’t learn more about the creatures we will be meeting.
‘Human storybooks got some things right about goblins. They are fast and mischievous. Mostly, though, they are game players. Like gnomes, they are not as well thought of as elves and witches. Even though they aren’t a lesser race, they often feel the need to ally themselves with the powerful,’ Snake says.
The snarky tone of his voice tells me he doesn’t like goblins very much. Which is interesting because he would rather go and ask for a token from them than his own people. I file that away to consider later while wondering what had happened that was so bad, he wouldn’t ask his own race for help.
‘Actually,’ Snake continues, ‘we can use that to our advantage. They like flattery, although not obvious flattery. In this instance, because of who you are, you should speak with them.’
I frown, trying to catch up. ‘Because I am an elf and you are a gnome?’
‘Exactly. And because your family is from the royal bloodline.’
‘Does it really matter that much?’ I ask.
He stops in the middle of the path and his eyes pin me in place. ‘Ever been somewhere in the human world where people speak to your friends but not to you? Where they won’t even meet your eyes?’
I’m about to tell him not to be ridiculous, people don’t behave like that in civilised society. But I bite my tongue. He is right, much as I hate to admit it. There are enough people who judge me not worthy simply because of the colour of my skin that I know what it feels like. Dad says things are better than when he was a kid, but that doesn’t mean racism has disappeared. It’s more that most people hide it better.
‘And in the World Below, you are treated like that?’
Snake nods. ‘Pretty much. Not by the lesser creatures so much, but by the others. And to be fair, most goblins are treated that way too. The only difference is, they are always playing power games, trying to trade into better positions. That earns them respect from some, fear from others, and vilification from most.’
‘That’s so sad.’ I’m liking the World Below less and less. From my current perspective, it makes medieval times sound progressive. Perhaps Mum and Dad had good reasons for keeping me away.
‘Is positioning their stronghold close to the witches’ a sign of a political alliance? Is that why you think coming here is a good idea?’
‘You’re catching on.’ He turns and starts walking. ‘Come on. I think that’s Wistman’s Wood over there.’ He points to the edge of a copse of trees.
My muscles twinge and complain as I force myself to move. I keep fit with karate and tennis, but this walking lark is a whole new ball game. It takes about another half an hour for us to reach our destination.
As we move under the shelter of the trees, I am taken aback by how dark and weird and twisted and tortured they look. I mean, these are right out of every creepy forest in every horror movie, and I can almost hear their cries of pain as we brush past them. The air is cool, and at the same time, oppressive.
Goosebumps prick my skin as I ask, ‘Do we need to go right in?’ I’m hoping the answer is no.
‘A little further, I think,’ Snake says.
I try to suppress a shudder. ‘How do you know when we’re at the right place?’
He takes a few more steps under the trees, stops, shuts his eyes, then slips his backpack from his shoulders.
‘Close your eyes,’ he tells me.
My natural instinct is to snap at him to stop ordering me around, but I do as he says, trusting he has a good reason for being so bossy.
‘What are your senses telling you?’
I peek through a single eye, thinking he can’t be serious. His face shows no sign that this is a joke, so I squeeze my eyes shut and describe everything I am sensing. ‘I smell damp earth. It is cool here. A breeze is blowing hair across my face. The rustle of leaves sounds so loud.’
‘Good. Now hold on to those feelings, listen to the trees, and block everything else from your mind.’
This sounds very new agey, and I cringe as I do as he says. Moments later, the noise in the clearing changes. The rustling is louder, and the air feels almost as though it is charged with something. The ring on the middle finger of my left hand starts to warm up, and the sensation pushes everything else out of my mind.
‘Ouch!’
‘What is it?’
The worry on Snake’s face is the first thing I see as my eyes fly open. I glance down at my ring, then look up. ‘It was…’
‘Warm?’ he asks, an excited smile forming on his lips.
‘Ah, yes. How did you know?’
He reaches up to the neck of his T-shirt and pulls out a medallion on a leather thong. ‘We are all given a token when we’re young. It’s a tool to help us learn to use magic. When your body senses or draws magic, it will warm up to show you’re doing it right.’
I stare at the ring. I felt magic? For a moment, I’m not sure how I feel about that. Actually, that’s not quite right. My head is not sure, but my body is singing.
‘Here is okay then?’ I say, dumping my pack beside his and turning away to cover my confusion.
Snake steps up beside me, his green eyes dark with concern as he flicks his fringe out of the way. ‘Here should do fine.’
I take a deep, shuddering breath, surprised to find I’m more nervous than I was when sitting my exams. You can do this, I tell myself as I turn to face Snake.
‘What do I do? Do I just call the goblin like you called the White Witch?’ I try to ignore the tingle of magic I now sense all around me and focus on the task at hand.
‘You will need to use magic to contact him. Are you okay with that?’ he asks, unable to keep the worry from his voice. I glance away, not wanting to see it written on his face.
‘I am fine with it,’ I say, my voice flat and even—controlled. My stomach, on the other hand, is churning like a washing machine on spin cycle.
‘If you’re sure….’
His tone telegraphs his doubt, and this ignites my anger. Good. Anger is better than a fear of failure.
‘What is his name?’ My voice is harsher than I mean it to be.
‘Grossman Green.’
Laughter bubbles its way up from the pit of my belly and rushes out. Once it escapes, I can’t stop it.
‘Please, don’t say anything,’ Snake says. ‘He may be listening to us.’ There is laughter in his voice as well, but he is doing a better job at holding it in than I am.
It takes a while, but finally, I am able to calm down. I close my eyes like Snake had me do before and reach out, letting the magic tingle over my skin. The ring on my finger warms up, and I start to call for the goblin, but then break down again.
I’m laughing so much, I can’t stand. Dropping onto the log behind me, I draw in some deep breaths. I don’t know why I find the name so hilarious—I just do.
‘Are you going to be able to do this?’ Snake asks. ‘I mean, without cracking up?’
His face is so stern, laughter bubbles out again. I look away and nod, unable to speak.
‘Sometime today?’
My shoulders shake. Then I can hold it in no longer. It feels good to laugh, and it is like all that tension that’s been building over the last couple of days drains out of me. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turn to Snake. ‘Yes, today.’
He raises a single eyebrow, but the twinkle in his eye shows me he also appreciated the joke.
I gulp in some air. Giggle. Then take a few more calming breaths. I remind myself of what is at stake, and the urge to laugh disappears.
‘I’m ready now,’ I tell Snake as I close my eyes and allow the magic to flow through me again. ‘I, Priscilla Crown, request an audience with Grossman Green.’
I slowly release my magic and open my eyes, prepared to wait, only to find a suited man standing beside Snake looking very out of place in the woods. Something in my face must have alerted my companion to the other man’s presence, as he turns, stumbles over a root and face plants.
The suited man sneers at Snake, as if his actions are to be expected from one such as him. Looking down his nose, he turns to me and performs a sketchy bow. ‘Princess Priscilla, I am here at your request.’
Without the supercilious twist of his lips, Grossman Green would be a moderately handsome man in his late thirties, perhaps early forties. He is dressed in a smart pinstripe suit that could be found in offices all over London but is completely out of place in the middle of a forest.
I watch Snake haul himself off the ground and move to stand behind me. Dusting leaves and forest debris from his clothes, he takes a position behind my right shoulder. The waves of distaste swirling around him are every bit as real as the magic in the air.
‘Mr Green.’ Too formal? The way Grossman stands a little straighter tells me I hit just the right note. ‘I would like for myself and my bodyguard to attend The Court Below this week, and I was hoping you would do me the honour of endorsing us so we may do so.’
My eyes widen a little. Is he actually preening? Could it be this easy?
He clears his throat and says, ‘I must respectfully decline.’
I do a double take. ‘I am sorry. You decline? You are refusing me, a member of the royal line?’ I try to sound as haughty as possible, which is actually quite haughty, but it has no effect.
‘With respect, you may be a princess, and of royal blood, even, but there is nothing you can give me that would persuade me to endorse you. Not even your pet witch’s familiar could do that.’
Pet witch? Familiar? What is he talking about?
‘I came out of courtesy when you called, but now I must go. I was in the middle of a merger meeting.’
Before I can utter a word, Grossman Green blinks out of existence. I turn to find Snake with his jaw hanging open, as confused as me.
I had just walked almost five hours to spend less than five minutes with a goblin who never had any intention of helping us. Confusion is quickly replaced with anger, and my fingers curl into fists.
‘What just happened here?’ I ask.
Snake shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he has seen either.
‘I’m not sure. The Greens always ally with the witches, who are second only to elves in the creature hierarchy. For him to have turned your request down can only mean one thing—a powerful elf got to him first.’
I frown, trying to work out what elf might want to stop me from going to the World Below. ‘You mean, someone like Giles Regis?’
Snake’s laugh is tinged with bitterness. ‘No, someone way more powerful than him.’
‘But he called me a princess. I am of the royal line. Who is more powerful than that?’
‘Exactly.’ Snake moves to pass me, running his hands through his hair. ‘I am starting to wonder if there actually is more going on here than our parents being taken before The Court to answer mundane charges.’ He pauses. ‘This isn’t right. Something else is going on here, Pris.’
Snake is clearly upset, and with my lack of knowledge of the creature world, I have no idea what would rattle him this much. ‘Like what?’
Snake’s jaw tenses. ‘I don’t know. Come on. If we want to catch that lift, we had better get a wriggle on.’
I don’t move. Is he really going to drop a bomb like that and then leave? He turns away from me, and I realise that is exactly what he is going to do. No way am I going to let that happen.
I move to follow him and trip, grabbing hold of a tree to stop myself from falling. What the…? I stare down at my feet—well, down at the vines covering my feet and winding up my ankles.
Anger is replaced by confusion. ‘Snake? What’s happening?’
I look over to find my friend struggling with his own problems. The tree behind him has reached out and wrapped its limbs around Snake, who is frantically wrestling, trying to get free.
‘Green. GREEN. Get back here,’ Snake growls as the branches grip him more tightly.
Nothing happens other than the forest pulling us in further to its clutches.
‘Mr Green, please,’ I beg.
The goblin appears, his face a mask of concern, but the hard look in his eyes tells me he knew this would happen.
‘Oh dear. I do apologise. This is Wistman’s Wood, and I thought you knew that no one leaves without sacrificing something.’ He smirks. ‘Oh, I see you didn’t know. How remiss of you not to do your research. The forest needs something of yours—any trinket will do.’
I smile sweetly at him, and my voice is sugary as I say, ‘I have nothing on me, and we are unable to get to our packs.’
‘I guess I could pay the price for you, but that would mean each of you will owe me a favour.’
Grossman Green’s smile is oily, and my stomach heaves in revulsion at the thought of owing this creature anything. I want to howl in frustration, but I am aware the vines have reached my thighs and Snake is turning a strange shade of grey. He wants to negotiate. All right, I can do that.
My minds starts ticking over what I can offer him in the real world, Nothing, I suspect, because whoever is pulling his strings is likely in the World Below.
‘Time is ticking,’ he reminds me.
I don’t know much about the creature world, but Giles Regis’s reaction to my threat gives me an idea; I may have something he wants or might need.
‘Here is my proposal. If we get to the World Below, and the plot against our parents fails, I will put in a good word with the Queen for you—tell her how you helped me out of a bind.’
Grossman Green smiles, and I think I have misjudged the situation. Then, as the grin widens, I start to wonder if I have offered him more than he could have imagined.
He reaches into his pocket, takes out a couple of pound coins, and tosses them in the air. ‘Deal,’ he says before they land, and disappears.
Snake falls to the ground as the trees release him, and it takes a moment for him to start breathing normally. The vines slowly leave my body, taking their time, almost caressing me as if they are reluctant to let me go.
I shudder as I am finally freed, then rush to Snake and help him to his feet. As he brushes himself off, I say, ‘I feel like I gave away the house when he only wanted a room.’
He shakes his head. ‘No, the bargain was fair, though it was more than the sneaky bastard deserved.’ He picks up his pack, slings it over his shoulder, and adds, ‘Come on. We were already late for our lift before this.’
He strides off, not even waiting to see if I’m following. I grab my pack and take a more sedate pace, wondering if he is annoyed at me or at Grossman.
I am well out of the oppressive air of the woods when I realise what Snake probably already had the moment Green turned us down—we’re one step closer to needing to visit the gnomes if we want to attend court.
CHAPTER 8
What Now?
Putting one foot in front of the other, I ignore my bruised ribs and the pain stabbing my chest each time I draw a breath. I can’t believe how that smug prat played us. It wasn’t enough to turn us down; he had to profit from our visit as well.
Targeting my anger at Green allows me to hide from the one thing I don’t want to think about. If I allow my mind to go there I might fall apart, and I can’t do that…. Not yet anyway.
With each step I take, my heartbeat slows, and my anger slowly drains away until I can think clearly again. I mull over our options and realise that the goblin’s refusal to help doesn’t necessarily mean we will end up in Mawnan. I’m sure there’s time to go to Bodmin and then up to Conway to the fairies.
As I begin to relax and breathe normally, something slowly dawns on me. Only a highborn elf would have enough pull to lure the goblins away from the witches. So, why is a high elf trying to prevent us from rescuing our parents from the World Below?
Gathering endorsements will be difficult enough without someone actively working against us. Do we even still have a chance?
Our next visit is to the sprites. Would they give in to a high elf’s request to refuse us? They are mercurial creatures, so it is difficult to predict their reaction.
Gnomes will never side with elves against me, a voice inside my head whispers. I shut it out. I’m not ready to go there yet.
The fairies in Conway also have no allegiance to any particular higher race, and…. It hits me like a sledgehammer. I swing round to find Pris is a long way behind me, and my face colours in shame. We are supposed to be in this together, and I took off without her. I stop and wait for her to catch me up.
When she finally joins me, I know I should apologise for my bad manners, but I can’t find the words. Instead, I say, ‘Pris, did you take our itinerary to bed with you the night before last, or did you leave it in the dining room?’
