Goblin Quest (33 page)

“Where are you going?” Riana yelled.

He ignored her. He knew what would happen if the adventurers didn’t find the rod. Once they slaughtered the hobgoblins, the only place left to search would be the goblin lair.

 

Jig stopped to catch his breath. He heard Riana coming up behind him. She must have followed the sound of his footsteps. Was this the same girl who had cowered in darkness a few days ago? She had changed too, apparently.

He could see the red flicker of torches up ahead. A part of Jig wanted to run past the guards and into the main cavern, to curl up in his corner and forget about everything. He could lie about what had happened, say the surface-dwellers had used magic to make him betray his captain. The next time they chose him for patrol, he would think of some excuse to stay at home. So what if they branded him a coward. At least he could live the rest of his life without having to see another dragon or adventurer.

Except that he knew it wouldn’t work that way. If he was lucky, one day might go by before Barius brought the others here.

Maybe Jig could convince the goblins to negotiate. If the goblins gave Barius permission to search for the rod, there would be no cause for bloodshed. But even as he tried to figure out a way to persuade the other goblins, he knew it wouldn’t work. Barius
wanted
bloodshed as much as any goblin. He lived for combat and glory and victory, and every time he cut down an enemy, it made him feel stronger.

Nor would the goblins take kindly to surface-dwellers scrounging through their homes. Sooner or later, and Jig would wager on sooner, one of them would try to put a knife in someone’s back.

On Jig’s shoulder, Smudge waved his forelegs in excitement. He recognized these tunnels and knew they had come home. He couldn’t understand that Jig might be killed as soon as one of the guards spotted him. Nor could he know that, even if they survived, it would only be to die as soon as the adventurers arrived.

So why had he come back? Why not stay with the others? At least that way, when they killed the goblins, they might have let Jig live. If Jig was here when Barius arrived, they would kill him without a second thought. They probably wouldn’t even know it was him. All goblins looked alike, after all.

The god’s answer was brief and discouraging.
If I think of something, I’ll let you know.

Jig started to laugh. Not even a god could think up a way out of this. In the past few days, Jig had come within inches of being eaten, drowned, poisoned, zombiefied, ripped apart, and if you included having to live on bread, starving to death. He could be an entire song all by himself. “The Hundred Deaths of Jig the Goblin.” If he was going to die anyway, why not add a few more deaths to the song by storming back into the clan and trying to prepare for the inevitable battle?

“Keep going,” Jig said when Riana caught up. He pointed down the tunnel. “You should reach the way out in a little under an hour.”

“I can’t.” When Jig cocked his head in confusion, Riana explained, “I’d have to go through that room with the glass ceiling. Straum would see me. If he realized I was trying to escape, he might think I had the rod. And he can talk to Ryslind.”

Jig nodded. She was right. Ryslind would be after her in a heartbeat.
They might already be after us. They probably think we know where the rod is, which means they won’t bother with the hobgoblins. We don’t have a day after all. They’ll come as soon as they realize we’re missing.

“Come on.” Straightening his shoulders, Jig walked past the goblin marker and into the tunnel. Riana followed, knife in hand.

“What are we doing?” Riana asked.

Jig didn’t get to answer. Up ahead, he spotted the two guards. One carried an old spear, the other a club. After spending so much time with Darnak, Jig wasn’t impressed with the club. It looked like an old table leg. Darnak would have knocked it into splinters, right before doing the same to the goblin’s skull.

“What are you doing out there?” the one with the spear asked. Getting a better look, he said, “Jig? Is that you?”

“You’re in trouble,” said the other. “We hear you killed Porak.”

Jig didn’t break stride. They thought
he
had killed Porak? How marvelous! He wondered how much the story had grown in the past few days. Never mind . . . so long as they thought he was dangerous, maybe he had a chance.

The guards pointed their weapons at him. “Who’s the elf?” one asked. “Did you bring her back as a gift for Porak’s friends?”

“Wait,” Jig said, more for Riana than the guards. Another comment like that, and the guard would find himself eating Riana’s knife for a snack. “She was with the surface-dwellers. We’re going to see the chief.”

“Uh . . .” The guards looked at each other uncertainly. “You can’t.”

Jig walked right past them, motioning for Riana to follow. He had counted on this. Goblins didn’t go in for sneakiness. If Jig was the enemy, he should have attacked immediately. Instead Jig acted like nothing was wrong. Like he
belonged
here. He could imagine their confusion.

“Wait,” one said. Jig glanced back to see the guard’s spear leveled at his back. “I don’t know if we should let her in there with you. She’s got a knife, you know.”

Jig spoke quickly. “She’s with me. The other adventurers will be here soon. You should worry about them instead.”

The one with the club looked nervous, but the other shook his head. “Porak’s friends are mean, and they’ll have my head if they find out I let you live. Besides we haven’t had elf meat in months.” He jabbed his spear in Riana’s direction, forcing her to hop back.

Jig nodded. He should have known it wouldn’t work. Maybe heroes and adventurers could get away with this sort of trick, but Jig obviously wasn’t good enough to make it work. So he would have to do this the hard way.

He stepped closer to the guard, who frowned. Jig had again done something unexpected.
He’s wondering why I don’t run away,
Jig guessed. If goblins were better trained with their weapons, would this one have realized that the last thing he should do was allow Jig to get inside his guard? If Jig hadn’t watched the way the others used their different weapons, would it even have occurred to him to try?

Probably not,
he decided. He drew his sword and attacked. The guard snarled and tried to swing his spear, but Jig was too close. The shaft bounced off his shoulder, hard enough to hurt, but nothing more.

Remembering one of Barius’s moves, Jig took a quick half-step and lunged. He overbalanced and almost fell, but his sword bit into the guard’s stomach. Jig caught himself, pulled the sword free, and spun around before the other guard had figured out what was happening.

Jig pointed his sword at the other guard, ignoring the groaning goblin on the floor. Doing his best to mimic Barius in voice and posture, he said, “I told you we need to see the chief.”

“But . . .” The guard glanced at his bleeding companion. He stared at the sword in Jig’s hand, his eyes focusing on the blue smear of blood. He took a step back, and the tip of Jig’s sword followed him.

“Right,” he said meekly. “Sorry about that.”

Jig nodded. He lowered his sword, hoping the guard hadn’t noticed how his arm shook. Dramatic poses were
hard
! Even a short sword got heavy if you held it outstretched for very long.

“Come on,” he said to Riana. He led them down the tunnel toward the main cavern. He hoped he hadn’t killed the guard. He had come here to
help
the goblins. Though eliminating some of the stupider guards might be construed as helping. He would have to think about that later. For now, getting past the guards had been the easy part. Getting past the hundreds of goblins they were sure to encounter next would be a much larger challenge.

Apparently Riana was having similar thoughts. As they neared the jagged entrance, she whispered, “Do you have a plan, or was this just another way to commit suicide?”

“Suicide,” Jig answered. Plans were for adventurers. He preferred the goblin approach. Blind panic might not work all the time, but at least it saved you the stress of planning.

He blinked. Panic might be exactly what he needed. His jaw jutted into a wide grin. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Riana’s arm.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m going to make sure you die with me.” But she sounded resigned, not angry.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m sure I will.”

A hundred goblin voices washed together in a low roar as they walked into the room. The noise died within seconds as the goblins stared at Jig and Riana, trying to understand what they were doing here, so obviously out of place. At any moment, someone would cry out and send the cavern into total chaos. Jig wanted to make sure that someone was him.

“Adventurers!” he screamed at top volume. He waved his bloody sword in the air, hoping nobody would remember that adventurers tended to bleed red, not blue. “They’re attacking the guards! Where’s the chief? I have a deserter from their party who can help.”

Whispers spread like lice, and Jig heard his name mentioned a number of times. Nobody moved. Didn’t they believe him? He waved his sword again. Riana swore at him and wiped off the dots of blood which had sprayed from his sword onto her sleeve.

“What did you say?” she asked.

He had forgotten she didn’t speak Goblin. “I told them the adventurers were coming, and you were going to help us.”

“Oh.” She chewed her lip for a second, then shouted, “They’ve rallied the hobgoblins and their tunnel cats. They’re coming to steal your women and children.”

“And our food!” Jig added.

That
earned a much stronger response, at least from those who understood Human. Goblins everywhere scrambled for weapons or ran deeper into the warrens to hide. More the latter than the former, but at least they were moving. More importantly, nobody had tried to kill him.

The chief had a large room behind the kitchen, so that he could eat whenever he felt like it. Jig’s stomach grumbled at the thought.

“Come on.” He struggled through the crowd of goblins, toward the far side of the cavern. Riana followed close behind.

Strong fingers grabbed Jig’s wrist. The goblin’s grip was weak compared to the dragonchild’s, but it was still too powerful for Jig to break. “How do we know this isn’t a trick?” the goblin demanded.

Jig felt a moment of bizarre relief.
At least we aren’t
all
gullible
. The fact that it could cost him his life took some of the satisfaction away, though. The other goblin had Jig’s sword arm, and his fangs were almost an inch longer than Jig’s.

The goblin’s eyes widened. He looked down. Following his gaze, Jig saw a dagger sticking out of his side. Silently the goblin fell.

“You blindsided him,” Jig said, impressed.

“I’m a thief. We’re sneaky that way.”

A few other goblins had seen what happened, and Jig’s stomach tightened as a crowd began to form around him and Riana. They were close to the kitchen. All he needed was a few minutes with the chief. After that Jig would probably die, and Riana would go into the pot, but at least he would have warned them about Barius and the others.

He pulled out his sword and screamed. Compared to Darnak’s battle cry, Jig sounded more like a frightened rat than a warrior, but it worked. Goblins fell back, startled and uncertain. Jig dashed through the gap and into the kitchen, Riana stepping on his heels as she ran.

Golaka scowled at him as he entered. “What are you doing, barging in like that? It’s another hour before dinner.”

The noise dropped as he entered the kitchen. Nobody followed. Few goblins dared intrude when Golaka was cooking, which was most of the time.

Golaka the chef was the largest goblin Jig had ever known. While not quite as tall as the average hobgoblin, she easily surpassed them in terms of bulk. The goblins liked to joke that you wouldn’t be able to tell Golaka from her cauldron if it weren’t for the fact that she never stopped complaining.

Jig figured her size was an occupational hazard. How could you spend day after day manning the kitchen without snacking a bit? But Golaka was as much muscle as fat, and she pulled out her stirring spoon and shook it at Jig like a broadsword. “Jig, isn’t it? Are you the one causing all that commotion? And what’s this morsel here? She’s a skinny one, isn’t she? Couldn’t find anyone with more meat on her bones, I suppose.”

Jig gave quick thanks to Tymalous Shadowstar that Riana couldn’t understand Goblin. “Golaka, where’s the chief?”

“Dead. He went looking for those adventurers and ran into a hobgoblin ambush. Seems there’s been all sorts of excitement these past few days. Means everyone will be all stirred up, no doubt. Fighting over who gets to be the new chief and all that nonsense.”

Jig’s body went numb. He dropped his sword. Dead? He had fought through the entire goblin lair, only to learn that the chief was dead?

“Long as I can remember, it’s always the same. Adventurers come in and cause trouble. Bunch of young goblins run out and get themselves killed. Another patrol goes out and ambushes the adventurers. I end up with a few more bodies for the pot and a dozen less mouths to feed.

“At least they’ll bring in some wood for the fire. A few arrows, maybe an axe handle or something. Haven’t had any new wood in almost a month, since that hobgoblin trader slipped and fell on my carving knife.”

Jig ignored her. The shock was so great that his entire body tingled. He stared at the scraps of wood burning merrily beneath her pot. If Golaka was telling the truth, they had continued to burn for
an entire month
without any new fuel.

She snorted. “That’ll teach those hobgoblins to get fresh with
me
. Of all the raw nerve. He’s lucky I didn’t make sausages out of his worthless guts. All for the best, though. Hobgoblin causes indigestion something fierce.”