The Glittering Dark: and other stories of the goblin world

by Jaq D. Hawkins

Karesyk ran. Habit dictated that he ran at top speed, and in fact doing so would get the message to the next grotto faster even though there was no real urgency to spread the news. Still, it was training. Goblins survived because they could communicate faster than men, even if sending a runner was more primitive than the technology of the surface dwellers.

  Other runners would be on their way to the nearest grottos in other directions, then new runners would take the news throughout the spider web of underground grottos that made up the world of the goblins under the city of men. It would take little time for all to know that something momentous had occurred. Something that could change their world and the uneasy peace with the humans that would seek to slaughter their kind if they knew and understood the significance of the celebrations to come.

  The sound of goblin feet slapping against solid rock echoed in a primitive rhythm throughout the intertwined passages of the underground tunnels. Karesyk thought of the rhythm of The Dance, the pulse of drumming that echoed the natural heartbeat of the earth. The primordial rhythm brought the goblins into ecstatic movements that entered them into the trance state that formed their spiritual connection to the planet. The act of running itself brought him to a form of trance, a euphoric sense of purpose that focused his mind on reaching his goal.

  Legna was the target grotto. It was the one grotto where many runners were reluctant to go, but Karesyk was not afraid. From there, others would carry the message and Karesyk would seek hospitality and perhaps even the possibility of being chosen by a female if his timing was good. With the grottos so interbred that births were few, any visitor stood a good chance of getting chosen in The Dance.

  Goblins didn't measure time as humans did. With no sunlight to penetrate the caverns, the movements of the celestial bodies mattered only to the Betweeners who lived near the surface and to those who went above to gather food. Karesyk was one of the Deep Dwellers, although young among goblins. His bloodlines went back to the oldest of their kind, hardly showing any relationship to the humans who legend told shared their ancestry far back in antiquity. The sharp and prominent ridges on his face marked his noble ancestry, just as it would signify him as a monster to human eyes. It was just as well that his kind seldom crossed paths with men.

  Instinct and old memories of the path might have told Karesyk that he neared his goal, but the smell of food took over and drew him eventually into the wide cavern where the grotto had gathered. Karesyk entered quietly, showing respect to the goblin speaking to the others gathered within. Two goblins at the entrance were dispensing food. As custom demanded, Karesyk took the bowl offered to him and nodded slightly as his body dipped for a polite undulating bow to those who offered him sustenance.

  The food smelled succulent and spiced. Karesyk sat quietly and looked into the rough ceramic bowl to see a wheat porridge with fresh vegetables and a slab of unknown meat. After his run, the exquisite delicacies were a welcome feast. He used two fingers in the customary way to scoop the porridge into his mouth, sometimes dipping the meat into the pasty concoction to manage larger mouthfuls. He would be expected to speak next and didn't have the leisure to eat slowly.

  No one had turned to stare at him as he had entered, but goblins noticed any stranger. That he was one of their own marked him as a runner. They would be expecting news, if not of the nature that he brought for them. No invasion of humans threatened their world at that moment. He brought glorious news of a birth.

  The other goblins sitting near him glanced to read his expression. They did not hold eye contact as that would be considered a challenge among goblins. They politely kept their inquiring gazes furtive and paid attention to the speaker who was regaling them with lessons of the movements of the planets and stars. The subject didn't interest Karesyk. He preferred stories of his people's history or the made-up stories that were only for amusement. But the speaker chose. Some taught lessons for the younger goblins, some told fantastic stories or lessons in history which reminded them all of why they lived as they did, out of sight of the humans.

  Some, like Karesyk, brought news of events in other grottos. Karesyk's news would be of particular interest to the goblins of Legna, as their passages led deep into the earth, into the realm of the Foringen. There were still many among his kind who feared to wander in the realms where the dark skinned goblins lived in harmony with the dragons.

  The Foringen, forgers of metal, would already know of the birth. The dragons themselves would have celebrated as soon as the infant drew breath. He was whole and would live. The mother had picked up the child and suckled it, indicating that it was healthy. If the stories were true, the dragons would have been rejoicing at that exact moment.

  Karesyk might have saved himself the journey if the Foringen had been willing to travel the lesser distance to the higher levels of their own grotto, but they seldom ventured into what they regarded as the cold places of the earth. Karesyk wondered how their world would have changed if the new birth had been among the Foringen, but like the other grottos, they were too inbred among their kind. Only a cross-mating could have resulted in a healthy offspring.

  The speaker finished and moved to sit among the crowd. It was time. Karesyk stood and walked to the front of the room. All faces turned towards him. The goblins waited patiently, some with expressions of trepidation. A runner from another grotto may well mean news of war. Karesyk launched into his storytelling voice to calm their fears quickly. In a moment, they would have cause to rejoice.

  "In ancient generations, our people traced their ancestors in common with men. But in many turnings of the earth, those who were trapped underground adapted to the conditions that the earth gave us and became as my people, goblins who are feared by the surface dwellers.

  Among those who survived in the midst of us were the magicians and shapeshifters. Transformed, sometimes between one shape and another, we formed into many species. Yet all are goblins. We survive together. We watch and protect all of our kind, even those we may have cause to fear."

  Karesyk stopped speaking for a moment as several goblins shifted awkwardly in their seats. The carved rocks were uncomfortable enough, but it was the thought of what was unspoken, the vague but clearly understood reference to the water goblins who would shred the flesh of goblin and human alike to feed their insatiable hunger. Any reference to the Kol'ksu would have brought uneasiness to the attention of the listeners, even without naming them. Karesyk reached within the agitation of his fellow goblins to bring both relief and a sense of wonder to them at once.

  "Legends tell us of a species of goblin that is descended of dragons. It is said that those born as Winged Goblins communicate mind to mind with dragons still, and that the dragons will follow the will of such a goblin."

  The room fell silent. Suddenly the goblins were rapt with attention as the story unfolded before them.

  "Many thought that it was only legend until a youngling was born to the grotto of Nacibrab with rudimentary wings. Sadly, he was ill-formed and could not live."

  Karesyk stopped again, allowing his listeners to feel the grief of that loss for a moment. Any loss of a newborn among them was a tragedy to all, but that one had been especially so because of the lost potential. As the gentle sighs abated, Karesyk continued.

  "I bring you news now that Nacibrab has had a new birth. The youngling is only a male, but the wings are unmistakable."

  All eyes stared widely as the implication unfolded. The goblins waited, hardly breathing.

  "The mother picked up the infant and suckled him. He will live."

  The drumming started more suddenly than was usual at the storytelling. Feet pounded in applause at the news as the drums reflected the earth's rhythm and goblins began to stand and dance. A surge of green flesh filed from the storytelling cavern to a more open cavern nearby where there was room to dance freely and to rejoice in the primal rhythm of the drums. The sound of a huon, the sweet flute-like instrument carved from bone, lilted over the steady beating of a growing numb
er of drums. Goblin feet stamped in the ecstasy of The Dance. The Dance always followed the storytelling, but this time it was one of celebration. A new life had begun.

  Karesyk joined in, dancing in total abandonment despite the exertion of his long run. The food and rest had revitalised him, but more poignantly, the raw energy of The Dance filled him with the vibrant energy that came from touching magic. The Dance was a form of magic that all goblins could share in whether they followed the ways of the magician or chose another path. It was basic and life-affirming. The glory of pure feeling, leaving all conscious thought behind as the body moved in the waves and spirals of nature's energies that fed the soul.

  Within those natural energies, Karesyk felt the sensuality of his own body and those around him. He became very aware of the few females among the grotto as they danced closer to him. The more clever males had sought to dance near to him as well, knowing that only one female would choose the visitor and the others would make choices once he had been claimed.

  It didn't take long for a female to lay her hand on his arm, leading him gently away from The Dance. Karesyk complied. He was grateful to see that she was one of the Deep Dwellers like himself. He preferred to leave his seed among his own species, although it could only improve the bloodlines of the Betweeners who resembled humans far too closely.

  Karesyk was led to a small, private cavern. The bite came without the preliminaries of conversation. The female wanted to breed, nothing else was required. Karesyk relaxed into the familiar paralysis. As a runner, he had been chosen before. The tingling travelled from the tooth marks on his neck throughout his nervous system, making him hyper-sensitive to touch, yet unable to move. In his helpless condition there was nothing to do but give himself over to pleasure as the female used his body according to her own whims.

  He felt the rhythm of the drums and of the earth through the rock as he lay back, eyes closed, feeling the pleasure mount until he reached the inevitable climax that would seed a new life among his people, although for a grotto not his own. Perhaps he would meet the goblin that resulted of his pleasure one day, and would know of his part in the youngling's making.

  The female finished and threw a skin over him to give warmth as he slept. Had she coupled with a male of her own grotto, she might have gone back to choose another and increase the chances of conception. With a visitor, she would not. The need for diversity in the bloodlines ruled all.

  Karesyk dozed into a half-sleep as the steady rhythm of the drums continued to pound through the rock beneath him. The actual sound did not travel loudly to the cavern that the female had chosen, but the vibration through the earth would travel far, even as far as his own grotto where others danced for the same celebration. The venom began to wear off so that he could move again, but weariness took over and he turned only to shift into a comfortable sleeping position.

  The awareness of the drumming and festivity within The Dance played in his near dream-state, until a sudden gust of warm breath was released against his face. His eyes popped open, Karesyk was fully awake instantly. His muscles tensed to move as his eyes shifted towards the source of the animalistic gust that could come from no goblin, but he did not move. Karesyk found himself looking up into the face of a dragon.

  His mind raced. The dragons were not supposed to walk among the goblins in the cooler levels. He had teased his friends that they feared needlessly, that Legna would be like any other grotto. He had travelled here himself more than once, and never was there any sign of the creatures that everyone knew dwelled deep within the volcanic levels beneath the grotto where no goblin except a Foringen would travel.

  Karesyk's second thought was that he was not yet dead. He would have expected a quick and painful shredding from the sharp teeth that loomed above his face so closely, but the dragon regarded him as if only curious. A low rumble of sound issued forth from its throat as a single droplet of drool escaped its mouth, dripping slowly onto Karesyk's face. The viscous liquid tingled on his cheek as if it would burn if left unchecked. He had no choice but to use the sleeping fur to wipe it off even if the movement might trigger the dragon's attack.

  To his surprise, the dragon actually moved backwards as he wiped his face and sat up in the same movement. It was then that Karesyk noticed that the dragon was not a big one, perhaps only as long as the height of two goblins of his species. It was probably not much more than a baby. His surprise was exceeded when the dragon backed out of the cavern entrance and was greeted with a rolling ball from the corridor, an item obviously procured from the human world. Whoever had rolled it was unseen behind the solid rock walls, but they had made no sound. The dragon, however, appeared to be well acquainted with the ball and began to play with it, pushing it about with its nose.

  Intrigued now, Karesyk stood and gingerly followed the dragon into the corridor. Suddenly the silence of the dragon's playmate made sense. Karesyk looked upon the dark leathery skin of a Foringen. Few of his kind ever looked upon the species, but Karesyk was beyond surprise by now. The forger saw him and mimed a greeting. The Foringen did not speak a verbal language. Their world was one of loud noises ranging from fire to the clanging of their own anvils. Their language was communicated through motions of the hands and a sort of dance of the body, completely visual in nature.

  Karesyk didn't know much of the language, but he could recognise the greeting and the dark goblin's behaviour towards the baby dragon told the rest. The game was known between them, this chasing of a ball. Why it occurred in the mid-earth levels Karesyk could only surmise. Perhaps the ball would melt in the deeper places, or perhaps the dragon had wandered astray. Karesyk would seek someone to ask the next time he had reason to travel to Legna.

  Karesyk moved away from the strange pair, bowing an appropriate greeting as he left the cavern for a passage that would lead him back the way he had come. He remembered passages well, which also made him a good runner. Now he would run again, back to his own grotto. He could not sleep where dragons walked. The next time he was met with fear from those who would not travel to Legna he would not tease them. Instead he would brag that he had been to Legna and met a dragon, but lived to tell the tale.

  Karesyk found the passage he sought and began to run. He ran more swiftly than he had ever run before, feeling the vibrations through the rock as the rhythm of The Dance drove him on from the deepest places within his being. In the echoes of the caverns the drums pounded in unison with hundreds of goblin feet.

  Those Who Provide