by Luca Tarenzi
A Pale Death dived down at him with lightning speed, but he fell backwards and the seagull just missed him.
Stylus rushed for the nearest piece of rubbish, but another bird was right on the tail of the first one. Verdigris drew her sword and started running to his side, but then she staggered, took a step backwards and dived for safety. Stylus was watching her when the bird's head darted forward.
Needleye clung to the side of the bag, unmoving and powerless, as the Pale Death soared upwards with the slender silhouette of Stylus in her yellowish beak. Above all the piercing bird shrieks, she was sure she could hear him screaming.
Then there was a sharp snap and he was silent.
2
The White Darkness stung his eyes.
It was too big. Too empty. Too white.
He shouldn't have let himself be dragged that far. It was Stamen who had convinced him to come.
Stamen always wanted to see and hear everything himself. Stamen had said, "Come with me, we'll see Moryans!"
But he could see practically nothing in all that White Darkness.
And there was the noise, too much noise. Loud noise coming from above. He tried to look up, but everything was confused and moving, the Whiteness blinding him. Stamen was ahead of him, in the midst of the rubbish, and he used his arm to signal to him.
He wanted him to follow, saying the Moryans were about to fight and there'd never be another chance to see such a battle with their own eyes.
This was why he'd brought him there; there was something there the Moryans wanted, would fight for.
Right now, he wished more than anything he hadn't followed his brother into the middle of that Whiteness. He was cold, scared and confused by the great open space that kept falling down onto them like an avalanche.
How did Stamen not feel it?
He tried to move forward, mainly to make sure he didn't lose sight of his brother and end up alone, but he wasn't used to this rubbish that slipped and slid under his feet.
Then the world came tumbling down on him. Suddenly, without warning. One moment Stamen was in front of him, gesturing and getting more excited, and the next he felt himself whisked up from the earth and dragged away. He tried to scream and struggle, but the weight of the collapsing world was too immense to fight.
As he tumbled head-over-heels like a rolling stone, he pushed his head between his knees and hoped it would be over soon. Even if over was only darkness.
Needleye could smell Albedo's rage even before she went into the tent. Waves of her brother's Glamour came out of the plastic bag that had been cut in two to make an entrance. It was an icy, controlled anger that pulsed like a badly tuned radio and, despite the cold, smelled like boiling water.
She straightened up. She wasn't going to see him with her head lowered, like someone asking for forgiveness. She had nothing to be sorry about.
Not with him.
She looked at the unguarded entrance, the guards having been sent away by Albedo.
Livid would be there though, somewhere hidden and listening. Whenever Albedo met someone, even his own sister, Livid was not far behind.
At eighteen inches in diameter, her brother's tent was the largest in the tribe, as befitting a king. It had been made with scraps of hardy material - mainly jeans, but also some canvas bags and a few shreds from a backpack - sewn together with string and lined with plastic to keep the rain out. It had been in their family for generations and survived the numerous unplanned moves and catastrophes the Goblins had to deal with every time the diggers and graders driven by men changed the shape of the Landfill.
The light from a fire radiated out, another privilege of being in charge, as the tribe sought to light fires as little as possible after the sun when down. No type of Glamour was able to conceal the glow of a flame and, in the darkness, even a tiny light could be seen from afar.
Of course, humans weren't very attentive to such things, but no Goblin wanted to tempt fate unnecessarily, especially when it came to hiding from humans.
Needleye paused for a second more, breathed in deeply, pushed open a plastic flap and went in.
Albedo was waiting behind the door, to one side, and welcomed her with a carefully aimed punch to the face.
Needleye saw it too late. She only managed to dodge it partially, the blow landing on her shoulder and spinning her around.
Her brother was on her in a second, throwing her to the canvas lined floor, but before he could pin her down, she rolled onto her side and tried to take out his legs with a kick. Albedo jumped back to avoid her leg, giving Needleye time to shoot back to her feet.
They faced each other, shoulders low and eyes staring, with the air crackling and smelling like burnt plastic where the two clouds of Glamour met.
He brother wore a leather tunic that had once been the finger of a glove, and a grey fur cloak - real fur taken from a human garment, not the rat fur so many ordinary Goblins wore. He was two millimeters taller than her, but otherwise they were quite alike. Their builds were pretty much the same and both had pale skin with a green tinge that was just a touch more evident on the face and hands. Both had the same purple eyes, pointed ears and the same black hair. The only real difference was that Albedo's hair was straight, not spiky like hers. It was also shaved on the sides and, at the top of his neck, it was gathered into a shiny ponytail that Albedo had since he was born. It was an unmistakable sign that at least one of his distant ancestors had been a Kelpie, a Water Horse.
It must have been on his mother's side because Needleye showed absolutely no signs of such ancestry.
"I should smash you to bits." Albedo's voice was cold like his cloud.
Needleye shifted her weight from one leg to the other, never dropping her guard. "I'm ready."
"You took eight rats without permission. Eight." Albedo's Glamour was tinged with a jarring touch of scratched metal. "You went beyond our borders. You lost one of our men. You fought the Boggarts."
Needleye felt her self-assurance wavering. She clenched her fists tighter to make sure it didn't show. "The battery..."
"Why didn't you tell me anything about that battery?"
Needleye breathed in. "Thaw found it yesterday while he was patrolling the border. We couldn't leave it there. All that acid..."
"I didn't ask you who found it," said Albedo, "I asked you why you didn't tell me about it."
Needleye clenched her lips tightly.
"Do you want me to reply?"
She remained silent.
"It was beyond the border. On Boggart turf."
"If they'd have gotten it..."
Albedo took two steps forward and Needleye took one backwards before realising it and forcing herself to stand firm. "You crossed the border. They saw you. You fought with them. And you didn't even manage to kill them all to make sure there were no witnesses."
Needleye bit her lip. "It wasn't supposed to go down like it did."
Albedo flew at her, punching her in the stomach. Needleye doubled over, opening her eyes wide and spluttering out all the breath she had, but when he stepped in to plant another blow, she head butted him right in his face.
He staggered back and she forwards, but Albedo was the quicker to steady himself and barged her with his shoulder, knocking her into the padded baby's shoe that had been cut in two to make a sofa.
Needleye fell on her back and kicked with both her legs at her brother's chest as he dived on her, knocking him onto his back.
"They wouldn't have noticed anything," she gasped, still out of breath. "We'd have gotten it and taken it away silently. The Boggarts arrived at the same time."
"But you went ahead anyway." Albedo got back to his feet and rubbed his nose. Blood dripped from one nostril. "With all the seagulls around."
Needleye narrowed her eyes. Who'd given him all those details?
Verdigris.
Who else?
"The rats that were tied to the sled all escaped. All of them." Albedo dried his nose on the sleeve
of his tunic. "How many grams of food were there, do you think? How many days of food, for how many Goblins?"
Needleye didn't reply.
Her brother looked her in the eyes and her Glamour thinned out to a sombre note, like thunder rumbling in the distance. "Stylus' family wants your head."
Needleye felt her fingers freeze, but not because she was afraid.
She looked at her brother with all the determination she could muster. "Stylus died in battle."
"Not on my orders. Not in a proper battle. He died because you dragged him along to be part of a stupid, dangerous and futile clandestine operation."
Needleye wanted to scream No! It wasn't supposed to happen. It would never have happened if Thaw hadn't charged off ahead alone, the mad Goblin he was...
Still, Needleye knew she was ultimately to blame.
She had convinced them all to follow her there. She should have known how to handle Thaw. She had been just about to order the retrieval phase of the operation when Thaw took it on himself.
"I will speak to his family. I will explain what happened and, if necessary, I will..."
"You won't do anything. You are my sister. Don't forget that. You are the sister of a king, daughter of a line of kings."
Needleye straightened up. "That is precisely why I should take responsibility for what I did. Stylus deserves as much. He died as a warrior."
"There is no war."
"There is always war!"
"We have a truce." Albedo looked with his cold eyes into hers for the umpteenth time. "I put enormous effort into this truce, effort you are clearly quite incapable of understanding. A truce Waspider made us pay for dearly."
Needleye spat on the ground, her toxic saliva burning the canvas floor. "Endless food provisions. Fuel. Yards and yards of our turf. In return for a promise, made through gritted teeth, to advance no further, for who knows how long. You call that a truce. I call it war blackmail."
"It was necessary. We are not able to stop them at present. There are too many Boggarts."
"They'll only multiply if they eat our food and hunt in land that is ours! Plus, they have the battery now."
"Waspider has respected the agreement so far." Albedo didn't look away for a second. "A year has nearly gone by. For us, that is a year gained."
"What about the people who disappear in the border region? Just last week, you yourself told me about a whole patrol that went missing. Is that how Waspider's Boggarts comply with the truce?"
Albedo narrowed his eyes slightly. "That is precisely why I said that nobody must ever cross the border alone. An order that your friend Thaw failed to follow as far as I hear."
Needleye cursed herself silently. "Thaw does his own thing, you know that."
"Making people like him obedient is what it means to govern. It is knowing exactly when to go to war with the Boggarts and when to reach a pact, no matter what it costs." Albedo turned his head and walked over to the fire flickering in the center of the tent, protected by the bulb section of a light bulb, next to the extendible antenna that functioned as the main pole in the tent frame. In the firelight, his thick hair shined like polished metal against his fur coat. "We still don't know the reason for the disappearances. It might simply be the seagulls. Perhaps it is a plague of unusually large and aggressive rats. Who knows? It could be something else. I'm looking into it."
"Do you mean you sent Livid?"
"Of course." Her brother looked back at her. "I don't ever let him go alone. I always know where he is when he goes down there. You, on the other hand, went down there on the sly with your friends, you lost resources, a Goblin and now there is a chance war will break out again."
"If they come, we will fight them."
A muscle twitched on Albedo's tightly closed jaw. "Not today. We need that truce, Needleye."
She clenched her fists. "I feel like I'm listening to our father."
Albedo attacked her with the speed of a slingshot, but the ten paces between them gave Needleye some chance to react. She dodged the punch and tried to knee him in the stomach, but her brother managed to get out of the way. They exchanged some rapid blows before Albedo managed to grab her wrist and twist it downwards. When Needleye saw his forearm near her mouth, she lunged at it and bit down.
Albedo screwed up his eyes, but he didn't let her go. Instead, he grasped her so tightly a stabbing pain shot up behind Needleye's eyes. She mustered all the Glamour she could in her mouth and changed the saliva so it would harm even a Goblin.
There was no time for some complicated transmutation, so Needleye focused simply on something that would attack the nerves.
Albedo cried out, let her go and held his arm, right where the bitten skin began to change from a healthy green to a sickly purple.
Needleye hit him with her elbow in the side and then barged him to the ground with her shoulder. Then she jumped on him and raised her hands as one, ready to break his nose.
"Stop!"
Her brother's Glamour wrapped around her like tentacles, slipping into her skull.
Needleye tried instinctively to fight, but she knew she had no chance. She could feel Albedo's word penetrating her brain, each letter like a freezing, sticky appendix that enveloped her thoughts, holding them in limbo.
Her hands became immobilised in mid-air.
"Get off me."
Slowly, with uneasy movements, Needleye got back to her feet and scuffled backwards, unable to stop her legs.
It was a horrifying feeling to have her own body refuse her commands. Needleye knew it only too well even though Albedo rarely used this Glamour from his Kelpie ancestors on her - or anyone. It was his inheritance from those long-forgotten monsters that used to lure humans to rivers and lakes so they could drown and devour them.
It was one of those special gifts - like Verdigris the Sluagh's vision or Thaw's mysterious Glamour - that she didn't possess and which she was powerless against.
As she watched, Albedo got up and held his arm tightly to his chest, waiting for his immune system to neutralize his sister's neuro-toxins.
"You have become more dangerous," he commented. "And faster."
Needleye pursed her lips tightly and said nothing.
She tried to take a step, but her legs continued to ignore her.
"You said you want to take responsibility for your actions." Albedo moved towards a rounded container made out of a thimble, pulled out a piece of soft fabric, cut off a strip using the bone dagger he wore on his belt and used it to dress his arm. "And you will. Just like kings and those who carry the weight of command do. You must realise that for people in your position there is no such thing as meaningless antics. Your decisions change the fate of those around you."
Needleye had the cutting sensation this was the true motive for her brother calling her there. The rest had been little more than a lengthy, combative preamble.
She felt like closing her eyes, but she stopped herself.
"Stylus's family won't have your blood. That much is clear. But you ignored my orders and that will have consequences. There have to be, otherwise you will never realise why you must obey them."
Needleye gulped. Wasn't what had already happened enough? Stylus's death, the lost rats, engaging the enemy...
"Consequences that will touch you personally, I mean," continued Albedo, seemingly reading her thoughts. "And that also reminds everyone there is a king and the power of his words." He was silent for a moment. "Capital consequences."
Needleye could feel her heart in her mouth. "No..."
Albedo finished bandaging his arm and tied a knot using his teeth before staring at the bandage. "I hate having to lose another resource, especially as a new war might be about to break out. But I have to make a choice." He sighed visibly. "We need Verdigris now more than ever. She's the only Sluagh we have. That leaves Thaw." He stared straight at Needleye. "He is to be executed tomorrow at sunset. You will be there. Now get out of here!"
Needleye staggered as her legs fo
rced her to turn and move towards the entrance. She closed her eyes, trying to quell the fury of emotions that was bubbling up in her throat and making sure not to let it out into her Glamour cloud. She didn't want Albedo to smell it.
"And when I say you'll be there," she heard his voice from behind her, "I mean you will be there. Even if I have to get you myself and march you to the scaffold in front of everyone. Don't try me again, Needleye. Things will only get worse."
He remained hidden amid the rubbish, unmoving and silent, until the White Darkness had passed.
He had not seen Stamen again, or heard his voice.
Why hadn't his brother come to find him? What could've happened?
The Moryans were close now. He could hear them walking higher up, calling to each other.
He concentrated as hard as he could, knowing that if he tried enough, they wouldn't see him and would move on. Or if they did see him, they'd forget about him straight away.
But it wasn't enough.
Perhaps he was too scared or simply still too out of sorts. A black arm plunged down through the rubbish covering him, grabbed him and pulled him into the open.
"There's one here!"
He closed his eyes, unable even to breathe.
Another voice came closer, from behind. "Is it a Goblin?"
The hands were hard, shaking him very hard, turning him round and round.
"Definitely. What else could it be?"
"But it is unusual….I've never seen one quite like it."
The voices became indistinguishable, like a rumble in the distance. Perhaps it was simply the frantic beating of his heart that blocked out all other noise.
Then the hands shook him again, roughly.
"Has he fainted?"
"No, he's only pretending. See how his eyes are moving below his lids."
"Vanadium says we should whack him and then tie him up. Waspider will want to see him."
He just managed to work out what was going on and then another wave of fear rippled through him, causing him to faint for real.
