by Bryan Huff
“You can’t be serious?” Hob groaned. “We’re still going?”
“We have to!” said Edric. “It’s the whole reason we came!”
“But now there’s an angry mob after us!” Hob protested.
Edric looked like he was about to reply, when the sound of thumping boots and jangling armor stopped him. He grabbed Hob and pulled him behind a stack of barrels at the edge of the alley. Hob peeked through the cracks between the barrels and saw the source of the noise; a whole troop of city guards went marching by.
“I wonder what all the panic’s about?” said one.
“Who knows?” said another. “But, if it means a chance for us to get out of the castle and see the festival, then I’m all for it!”
“My ol’ lady’s birthday’s comin’ up,” said a third. “Maybe I’ll get her a pot.”
“Don’t get her cookware,” interjected the first. “Women hate that.”
“Oh … well maybe a nice broomstick.”
A second later, they were gone, headed in the direction of the town square.
Edric waited for the thumping and jangling to fade, before emerging from behind the barrels.
“Did you hear that?” he said. “The angry mob is drawing the guards away from the castle. If anything, that’ll make things easier for us. Let’s go, before they come back.”
“But, Ed,” said Hob, following him out into the street, “this makes no sense!”
“Look, I know you don’t get it,” said Edric. “But this is happening. You can either come with me, or go back to the inn on your own.”
Hob sighed. He didn’t want to be left alone in a town screaming for goblin blood, so he followed Edric up the street to the tower.
Edric wasn’t wrong about things being easier with the castle guards called away. Soon, he and Hob were sneaking in through the castle’s open gate, with not a watchman in sight.
The castle was made of the same weathered gray stone as the rest of the city, but cut stronger and thicker. And, while it was modest by castle standards, it was impressive to Hob, who’d only read of such things.
As he and Edric passed through the gate in the outer wall, they entered a vacant cobblestone courtyard with a small keep on the far side. The keep’s main hall rose up only four stories under a gabled roof, but the tower next to it added at least another three. The tower was round and topped by a wide room with a conical spire. Ivy snaked up and down its stonework, stemming from a little garden at its base.
The whole place gleamed with the red light of the sinking sun. But, unlike the evening before, Hob was in no mood to admire its beauty. It was a bad sign. They’d wasted too much time at the festival. Dusk drew near, and, soon, Stella and Monty would return to find them missing.
Edric gestured for Hob to follow him as he led the way around the courtyard. Nestled along the inside of its walls were stables, workshops, and storehouses, which the castle relied on for its daily needs. Sitting next to them were piles of timbers, stacks of barrels and crates, and two large hay carts. Edric and Hob edged their way around these buildings and supplies, and crept over to the base of the tower. They took cover in the garden there, huddled behind some shrubs.
“See?” Edric whispered. “Easy as pie.”
“Now what?” asked Hob, glancing around. He saw no entrance to the tower anywhere.
Edric smiled. He pulled the crossbow from his back and the coil of thin rope from his belt. He began to tie the end of the rope to a loop near the bottom of a thick bolt already loaded in the crossbow.
Hob gaped. “I don’t think that’s going to work, Ed. Maybe we should try the castle door? Or call up to her? Or, better yet, we can leave a note, go back to the inn, and you two can be pen pals!”
Ignoring Hob and finishing his work, Edric raised the crossbow to his eye, took aim at the top window of the tower, and—twang!—loosed the bolt. Thock! It buried itself deep in the upper part wooden window frame. Edric gave the rope a sharp tug to see if it would support their weight. Satisfied, he tossed his crossbow into the bushes to lighten his load.
“Fine. Just a quick hello then,” Hob went on. “I don’t think we should be pushing our luck.”
“That’s the plan,” said Edric, as he began to climb the rope. “Just a quick hello.”
The Prince was tired and sweaty when he reached the top of the rope a few minutes later. Carefully, he climbed through the open window into the tower room.
Hob followed immediately after him. Being small and spry, the climb had given him much less trouble. He hopped down softly from the windowsill, and joined Edric on the stone steps below, where the Prince stood trying ever so quietly to catch his breath.
They found themselves in a vaulted, circular chamber that appeared to serve as both a bedroom and a library.
Massive floor-to-ceiling bookcases covered every inch of wall inside, except where they’d been built around the window and door. Fashioned of dark wood, trimmed with polished bronze, and packed with thick tomes, the shelves ran up easily a dozen feet, and a long ladder slid around them on tracks. Hob couldn’t believe how many books they held—easily twice as many as had been in the little bookshop on the square.
On the bedroom side of things, most of the furnishings had been built right into the shelves, including a desk, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers. However, standing separately on a dais at the center of the room was a huge four-poster bed draped in rich purple curtains.
The only thing that suggested any sort of curse or imprisonment was the door. It looked like that of a dungeon, with its thick black wood, great iron braces, and tiny hatched window.
As Hob looked around the room, he caught a flash of movement. A single eye peeked out through the curtains of the four-poster bed. It disappeared with a swish of purple cloth. The Lady of Valley Top!
Edric must have spotted her too, because he stepped forward and fell to one knee to address her. “My Lady of Valley Top, why dost thou hide? I have come to look upon thy beauteous face!”
Hob shot Edric a quizzical look. “Beauteous? Dost thou?” he whispered.
“That’s how you talk to Ladies,” Edric explained.
From behind the curtains came a muffled reply. “I hide when I see arrows strike my window,” said the Lady, who sounded more like a girl to Hob. “I don’t like visitors. Now go away! You aren’t allowed to see me!”
“Fear not, my Lady, for I am Prince Edric of Yore!” said Edric, with flair.
“Ahhk!” screamed the Lady. “Then you really can’t see me! Go away!”
Hob and Edric exchanged baffled glances.
Hob turned back to the window. Looking out over Valley Top, he spotted the city square and, beyond that, the shady district where their inn was located. It looked much farther away than he would have liked. And the sun was dipping dangerously low behind the mountains.
“Well, that’s it then,” he said, feigning disappointment. “Guess we’d better get going!”
Edric didn’t budge. “Come on, Hob,” he said. “She obviously needs our help.” He gazed absentmindedly around the room. “See what you can find out about her, while I take a look around.”
“W-what?” Hob stammered. “B-but you …?”
It seemed like Edric should have been the one talking to the girl, while Hob played lookout. But Edric wandered away before they could discuss it.
“O-okay …” Hob finished.
He watched as Edric circled the room, taking stock of the bookshelves. This wasn’t at all how Hob had pictured things unfolding. Still, if he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, he would have to try talking to the Lady himself. He left the window, sidled up to the edge of the bed, and gave the curtains a little tug.
“My Lady,” he said, “what’s wrong? Why won’t you show him your face?” He added softly, “He’ll leave if you do.”
A long silence followed, before the Lady’s timid voice answered from behind the curtain.
“B-b-because I can’t.”
“Why not?” asked Hob. “Is it the curse?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, wow. I thought you were just stuck in the tower. I didn’t know you were stuck in bed. What if you have to, you know, go?”
“No!” replied the voice. “That’s not the curse. Neither is being stuck in the tower. That’s just a rumor my father started as an excuse for me to hide in here, to save me the embarrassment of people knowing the truth!”
“What truth?”
“That I refuse to leave.” The voice hesitated for a moment. “You see, one day, while I was brushing my hair before bed, a wicked fairy appeared in my room. She said something about inner beauty, waved her wand, and turned me into a horrible monster.” The voice paused. “And, I get it. As a little girl, I spent days in front of the mirror, trying on dresses and brushing my hair, making sure I was pretty, just like a Lady should be. It was all I cared about. Maybe I deserved to be cursed … But that was years ago. I’ve learned my lesson. And yet the curse won’t break!”
Hob felt awful for her. As much as he envied her extensive library, he knew how miserable life could be having only books for company.
“I’m sorry …” he said. Then he paused. “What kind of monster are you?”
“What do you mean, ‘what kind?’” she asked. “An ugly monster!”
“Well, I’m sort of a monster too,” said Hob, getting an idea. “So, maybe you could show your face to me?”
“You’re a monster?” the voice replied, as one eye peeked out from behind the curtains. “ahhhk!”
The curtains closed again, tightly.
“Shhh!” Hob hissed. “I told you I’m a monster!”
“You didn’t say you were a goblin!” the Lady replied.
“A goblin’s a kind of monster,” Hob muttered, “and not the worst kind, either! Just wait till you meet a troll.”
“A troll!” squealed the Lady.
“Don’t worry, my Lady!” Edric chimed in from across the room. “Hob’s a nice goblin. And we haven’t seen a troll since yesterday.”
“Thanks, Ed,” said Hob.
“Don’t mention it.”
Hob tried again to reason with the Lady behind the curtain. “So, are you going to let me see you?” he asked.
“Is he looking?” the Lady replied.
“Nope, he’s busy checking out books … for some reason.”
It was true. Edric had started picking through the bookshelves, inspecting the spines, and pulling the odd one out to peek inside it.
“Okay then …” said the girl behind the curtain, “but promise you won’t scream.”
“I promise.”
A hand emerged, and slowly, reluctantly, pulled back the curtain. There, through the gap in the veil, Hob saw a normal looking teenage girl, kneeling on her bed. At least, as far as he could tell, she was normal looking. She had long auburn hair, soft freckles on her face, and big hazel eyes, which, had they not been so mournful, might have been quite pretty. She wore a rich green dress, which brought out their color.
“Huh?” said Hob. “You don’t look like a monster to me.”
“That’s what my parents always told me!” the girl complained. “But they were just trying to make me feel better. I can see the truth right here.”
From under her covers, she pulled out an old silver hand mirror. She held it up and examined herself. Then she tilted it, directing her reflection at Hob.
“See?” she said.
“Looks the same to me,” said Hob, more confused than ever.
“I knew it!” she cried, yanking the curtains shut again. “But at least you tell the truth!”
“Hob! What’s the matter with you?” snapped Edric, as he rolled the bookshelf ladder around from behind the bed. “You’re supposed to be helping!”
“I told her she looks fine,” said Hob.
“Well, that’s clearly not what she wanted to hear,” said Edric, beginning to climb the ladder. “Don’t you know anything about Ladies?”
“No,” said Hob. “I’ve never met one before.”
“It’s all right,” the Lady sighed. “Maybe goblins just can’t see ugliness.”
“I can too see ugliness!” Hob insisted.
“I’m surprised you can see anything at all, really,” said Edric, stopping halfway up the ladder, “with those goggles on inside.”
“The goggles!” Hob exclaimed. He gave the curtain another tug. “Let me see you once more, my Lady. Ed, don’t look.”
Without saying anything, the Lady of Valley Top parted the curtains again to reveal herself. Hob took off his goggles, and studied her. She looked the same as before.
“So far, so good,” he said. “Now, the mirror …”
Again, the Lady angled her mirror toward Hob. This time, reflected on its surface was a horrible monster! It was wearing the same green dress as the Lady, but its face was completely different: purple and pocked, with crooked fangs, stubby horns, a bulbous nose, and a mane of bristly, matted hair.
“Just as I suspected!” Hob declared. “It’s not you that’s cursed. It’s your reflection. Maybe your ability to perceive yourself altogether. I don’t know. But, either way, it’s just an illusion!”
For a moment, the Lady went silent. “What? How can that be? I know what the fairy said! I know what I see and feel! How can I believe you, or my parents, when you tell me not to trust my own senses?”
“Because I can prove it,” said Hob. “These goggles see through illusions.”
He held out his goggles for the Lady, and she took them tentatively. She looked through them into the mirror, and let out a small gasp.
“That’s me?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Hob.
The Lady smiled at him. Then she took another long look through the goggles. Hob made sure not to rush her. Finally, when she was satisfied, she handed the goggles back to Hob, leaned down, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you, nice goblin,” she said. “You may call me Isobel.”
Hob blushed, turning his accustomed shade of dark green. “Don’ mention it,” he mumbled, turning away to wipe the goggles on his tunic. He put them back on, but left the lenses tilted up on his forehead. “Sometimes we just need to see things through someone else’s eyes … or goggles … or whatever. If you know what I mean?”
Hob wasn’t sure he even knew what he meant, but that wasn’t important. The curse was as good as broken thanks to his goggles. Now, perhaps he and Edric could finally get out of there.
“Will you show yourself to him now?” Hob asked Lady Isobel.
“O-okay …”
Lady Isobel climbed down off her bed, and stepped out from behind the curtains. She straightened her dress, ran her fingers through her long hair, and turned to Edric.
Edric was completely oblivious. He’d come down from the ladder, and he stood there, tearing books from the shelves. He gave each one a glance, and then tossed it haphazardly into a growing pile on the floor.
“Hey, Ed!” Hob exclaimed.
“What? Huh?” muttered Edric, turning to look at them.
Hob pointed emphatically to Lady Isobel.
“Oh! Hey, you are pretty!” Edric remarked, before turning back to the books.
Now, it was Isobel’s turn to blush.
Hob was ecstatic. “Great! So can we please go?”
“Not yet …” said Edric, tossing another book on the pile.
Hob gaped. He was about to ask, “Why in the world not?” when his bat-like ears picked up on muffled sounds originating outside the tower window. There were hurried footsteps, shuffling bodies, and whispers of, “This way … Over here …” The mob was closing in.
Hob dashed to the window. The sun had finally set, and night had come to Valley Top. With his goggles on his forehead, Hob’s eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, but he still couldn’t see anyone. No torches lit the courtyard or th
e street beyond. The mob must have passed them by. Hob was certain, however, that he and Edric were running out of time.
“That’s it!” Hob said, marching over to confront his friend. He grabbed Edric by the arm and jerked him around. “You saw her. Let’s go!”
“Take it easy!” said Edric, pulling his arm free.
“No!” said Hob. “I want the truth. If you didn’t come to see her, why did you come?”
Edric stared at Hob stubbornly. “What does it matter?”
“It matters because we’re both risking our lives to be here. I want to know why!”
Edric finally broke. “It’s the book, all right? I came for the stupid book!”
Hob had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what book Edric was talking about.
“I meant to read it,” Edric continued, “just like Eldwin told me to. But his message never said what it was for. So I put it off, and put it off. And then it was gone. Stolen in the Gobble Downs! I thought Eldwin might have understood. I thought he might’ve known what to do. But when we got stuck with Stella instead … well, she would’ve just freaked out. She couldn’t know. No one could.”
Hob gaped. Suddenly, everything made sense.
“And when I heard that old woman mention the library here in the Lady’s tower,” Edric went on, “well, I thought maybe no one would ever have to.”
“So you made up a story about wanting to see Lady Isobel so you could come look for a copy of the book?” Hob surmised. “And you dragged us through the festival so you could check that bookshop on the way?”
“Yes,” Edric admitted. “It was the perfect cover. You believed it. And if anyone else on the quest ever found out, they would have too. It’d just be me being a crazy teenage screw-up, as usual. I’d rather have everyone think that, than know I almost doomed my entire Kingdom … my father.”
Hob’s palms went clammy. It had all been his fault. He cursed himself for not telling Edric about the book the night before. If only he’d known that Edric hadn’t actually read it. Now, it was too late. If the Prince found out that Hob had stolen his book—and had tried to cover it up!—there was no telling how he would react. Hob had only one option. He had to find Edric another copy fast, so he’d never have to tell him the truth.
