The Prince and the Goblin

by Bryan Huff

  Hob struggled meekly, but only so that in his last moments he could tell himself, I tried.

  He knew it was futile. Not only was the troll too strong, but Hob had given up his only weapon, and had lost his only means of protection. All he had left were his ordinary clothes and his goggles—still flipped up on his forehead, where he’d worn them under his helmet. Meanwhile, his helmet, breastplate, sword belt, and shield all lay discarded in the main gorge below. The troll had shucked them from him, like a shell from a crab, and had let them drop at the base of the gorge’s northern channel.

  Now, it was up the northern channel they climbed. Though it was steep and narrow, it was full of fallen stone and easily ascended.

  “Where are we going?” asked Hob. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but his curiosity always did get better of him.

  “Somewhere no one can see us,” whispered Carl One, glancing back over its shoulder at the main gorge fading away in the mist below. “You’re mine this time.”

  “Ours,” Carl Two corrected him.

  “Ours,” Carl One conceded. “The point is—this is personal.”

  “Look what you did!” added Carl Two.

  Hob couldn’t help but look. A bizarre injury had befallen the troll. Carls One and Two, its left and middle heads, were the same as ever. But Carl Three, its right head, was conspicuously absent—replaced by a lumpy sack full of turnips on an otherwise empty shoulder. The sack wobbled unsettlingly, poking out from the tattered remnants of the troll’s third hood. A smiling face had been smeared onto it with red war paint. Drippy and lopsided, the face was supposed to look happy—but didn’t.

  “You led us to that terrible woman,” Carl One hissed.

  “And now Carl Three’s a turnip sack,” moaned Carl Two.

  “There, there,” said Carl One. The troll patted itself on the shoulder. “He’ll soon be avenged.”

  Even though Carl Three’s demise was ultimately Captain Fist’s doing, the troll seemed more than happy to punish Hob for the part he’d played in it.

  Carl One peered backward again. The main gorge had now vanished. “This is far enough.”

  “Look there!” whispered Carl Two, pointing up ahead.

  The remains of a single dead tree passed in and out of the waves of mist. It wasn’t far off.

  “That’ll do nicely,” Carl One observed. “A fine chopping block!”

  They approached the dead tree. It was a squat old mountain pine with a broken-off top, which had grown up through the cracks in a wide rock shelf at the center of the channel. Its roots twisted all over the rock, and its skeletal branches rattled in the wind.

  As soon as they reached the tree, the troll forced Hob to the ground. Suddenly, Hob found himself lying on his stomach, with his head facing sideways down the channel, and his neck pressed up against one of the tree’s gnarled roots. To keep him in position, the troll pinned him under a crushing foot. Hob couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  A faint scraping noise, barely audible beneath the wind, told Hob the troll was drawing its axe.

  Just then, a thick band of cloud moved off, and a bleary light shone down. Hob looked up out of the corner of his eye. Pale pinks and purples bloomed behind the dark mountain peak above. This was the last thing he would see—the beauty of a sunrise never to come. The cloud closed in again, and the light was gone.

  “Any last words?” growled the troll.

  Hob had none. He simply closed his eyes.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Hob could feel the troll’s weight shift as it raised its axe. Soon the blade would fall. Soon it would all be over.

  “there! there he is!”

  It wasn’t the troll’s voice. It was Stella’s again!

  Hob opened his eyes. A dark shape swept up the channel below. It grew and solidified, until suddenly it was overhead. The airship! A long rope ladder dangled below it. Stella held on near the top. Monty and Edric held on near the bottom. When they were right over the troll, Monty and Edric dropped from the ladder.

  Edric came down on the troll’s back, grabbing the collars of its two remaining hoods to stop his fall. The troll choked, sputtered, and staggered backward. Monty landed on its weapon arm, wrapping himself around it, and biting down hard. His teeth never broke the leathery skin, but, just the same, the troll howled and dropped its axe. Monty recoiled, spitting profusely in an attempt to get the taste of troll out of his mouth. Finally, the troll began spinning and shaking its arm, trying to throw off its assailants.

  As the troll spun, Hob was released from underfoot. He rolled away onto his back, wheezing as he filled his flattened lungs.

  A moment later, Edric landed lightly beside him, having dropped from the whirling troll. He reached down, helped Hob to his feet, and together they took cover against the trunk of the dead tree.

  Hob stared at Edric in silence, struggling to believe he was really there. “How?” he asked. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Because of this!” said Edric.

  He pulled something out of his belt, and held it up for Hob to see. It was Hob’s sword—the one Edric had given him at the inn. The falcon-shaped bronze hilt and steel blade shone softly in the burgeoning light.

  “Then we spotted your armor at the base of this channel, and we figured you were up here,” Edric added.

  “And … you came for me?” asked Hob.

  “You came for me first,” said Edric, smiling warmly. “Besides … who else is going to get us to the Lost City?”

  Hob beamed at him. “You can count on me!” he said. “First we head due west from Valley Top, then we find the turtle-shaped mountain, and we—”

  “Great, great, I trust you,” said Edric, glancing over at Monty, who continued to cling to the spinning troll. “Oh, and let’s just keep this between us, okay? I still don’t want Stella finding out about the book. It won’t do any good.”

  Hob nodded agreeably.

  Then Edric grabbed him, and pulled him to the ground.

  crack! The tree shuddered above them, as Monty slammed into its trunk. crunch! In a shower of broken twigs, he landed on his rump beside Edric and Hob, between the tangled roots.

  “Enough with the howdy-dos, lads!” Monty said, somehow hopping right back to his feet. “We’ve got company!”

  The troll recovered its axe, and began to charge, while Monty drew a sword, and rushed to intercept. As the troll took a wide horizontal swing at Monty’s head, Monty ducked it and batted the troll’s shin with his sword. The troll then roared and caught Monty with a fierce sideways kick. Monty rolled across the rock shelf, slid to a stop several paces from the troll, and lay there in a daze. Enraged, the troll stomped over, raising its axe to cleave him in two.

  With a quick nod to Hob, saying stay put, Edric launched himself into the fray. But he wasn’t going to reach Monty in time.

  Thinking quickly, Hob grabbed a small stone from between the tree roots, and hurled it at the troll’s back. Thump! A perfect hit.

  Carl the Troll staggered to a stop, forgetting all about Monty, and turning its remaining heads to seek out its new attacker. Hob slipped behind the tree, so the troll saw Edric instead. Still clutching Hob’s little sword, Edric looked ready for a fight. The troll gave him one.

  Edric waited until the last possible second, rolling away just as the troll’s axe smashed down. It chipped at the rock, spraying sparks and shards of stone. Edric circled behind the troll. The troll spun, swinging its axe sideways. Edric dove right under it and through the troll’s legs. He popped up behind the troll again, back at the tree.

  Having recovered his wits, Monty rushed over to join him. “Those dozy gnomes!” the old dwarf huffed. “What’s takin’ so long?”

  “They’ll be back!” Edric assured him. “We just have to hold on a little longer!”

  They stood side by side, with their backs to the tree and their swords before them. The troll whirled and lashed o
ut, attempting a heavy vertical chop. smash! Edric and Monty sprang apart, and the axe struck the ground between them.

  The troll unleashed a wild barrage. Its axe thrashed back and forth, shattering more stone with every missed strike. Edric rolled. Monty leapt. Edric caught the troll’s axe handle with his sword, knocking the weapon from the creature’s hands. Monty charged the unarmed troll. But it didn’t work. wham! With a hammer-like fist, the troll sent him rocketing skyward.

  Another shower of twigs rained down on Hob, as Monty landed in the tree above him. Wedged upside down between several upper branches with his coat flipped over his head, the old dwarf struggled to untangle himself.

  Taking advantage of the opening, Edric surged to his feet, hacking at the troll with his sword. The troll held out a shield-like palm to stop it. Both heads grimaced. The troll had caught not only Edric’s hand but also the bottom part of his blade. Still, the troll’s fingers closed tightly around both.

  “Ahhhk!” Edric screamed, as his hand was crushed.

  With its other arm, Carl retrieved its axe from the ground, and brought it up over Edric’s head. Edric tried to pull free but was held firmly in place.

  Then, before the axe could fall—thock!—a small crossbow bolt lodged itself in the back of the troll’s weapon hand. The troll howled and dropped its axe again. Instinctively, it clutched its wound, releasing Edric, who staggered away.

  Hob looked down the channel in the direction the bolt had come from. Captain Fist appeared there, sweeping out of the mist! She held a compact crossbow in her hands, which she promptly holstered on her belt. It disappeared beneath her billowing cloak.

  Hob gasped. The Captain must have sent her men to the Riven Gate without her, and instead tracked the goblin army at a distance, eventually finding Hob’s discarded armor at the base of the gorge’s northern channel. She’d never planned on letting either Hob or Edric go free.

  “It’s her!” growled Carl Two.

  “I know,” said Carl One. “Get her!”

  But as the troll reached down to recover its axe again, Captain Fist pounced. She leapt onto the stone shelf, leveled a sweeping kick at both the troll’s heads, and sent it reeling.

  Edric ran, quickly reaching Hob’s hiding place at the tree.

  “Look!” he cried, pointing directly up the channel. “C’mon!”

  Hob turned and saw the airship rematerialize there. It was approaching fast.

  Edric took him by the arm, and they dashed over to a large boulder behind the tree—right in the path of the airship. Edric gave Hob a boost onto the rock, and climbed up after him.

  “lower!” cried Stella, from her place atop the airship’s rope ladder. She appeared to read something she had written on the back of her hand. “laag!” she repeated in awkward Gnomish.

  The airship descended, and the ladder drew low over the rock. Hob jumped high enough to catch the bottom rung. But before Edric could grab on too, a black-gloved hand closed around his leg and yanked him off the boulder. Whoosh!

  “No!” Hob cried.

  The next second, the airship pulled up, and the ladder passed over the tree. Finally untangled, Monty sprang from the upper branches, and caught hold beside Hob.

  Only Edric had been left behind. Hob looked back. The Prince now lay on the stone shelf at the base of the boulder behind the tree. Captain Fist stood over him, preparing to shield him from the oncoming troll.

  The Captain drew her sword, deflected the troll’s axe, and then took a swing at its legs, driving it back a step. Weapon still in hand, Edric jumped up, and rushed at the troll from the side. With the back of its arm, the troll swatted him away. Finally, the combatants receded into the mist. Only the sounds of battle remained, ringing out in the distance.

  With some difficulty, Hob and Monty climbed up to the middle of the swaying rope ladder—Hob leading the way. They were making room for Edric to come aboard below them on the next pass.

  The airship rocked as it ascended, fighting the wind. Once it finally had clearance between the surrounding mountain peaks, it came about and plunged back down into the depths of the channel. Stella, Hob, and Monty trailed on the ladder in a dizzying dive. Hob closed his eyes so he wouldn’t faint.

  When he opened them again, the ship was leveling off and soaring up the channel. The battle at the tree was coming back into view. The Captain crouched on the troll’s shoulders, holding it in a double headlock, while Edric scrambled up the tree. Both had stowed their weapons.

  “hold course for the tree!” Stella cried, before reading off the back of her hand again. “ga door!”

  The ladder came in slightly off target. It brushed the side of the tree, right between Edric and Captain Fist. Edric leapt from his branch, Captain Fist from the back of the troll. Both caught hold of the ladder a few rungs up from the bottom, grabbing on to opposite sides, and finding themselves face to face.

  Instantly, they were sailing up the channel, between craggy slopes and through curtains of mist. Edric began to climb the ladder, trying to get away from Captain Fist. She climbed the opposite side, only one rung behind him. Her arm shot through the ropes, seizing him by the tunic.

  Hob could only look down in horror.

  “keep low!” Stella cried, fearing Edric might fall. “laag!”

  Dutifully, the airship ascended at an angle just greater than that of the mountain channel, leaving the bottom of the ladder trailing mere feet above the stones.

  Taking one hand off the ladder, Edric drew his sword. “Let me go!” he shouted.

  Fist obliged, releasing him. But her free hand went straight to her hip. In a flash, her sword was drawn too.

  Clank! Edric jabbed his sword down at the hand Fist used to hold the ladder, and she angled her sword to block it. Clank! He took a swing at the ropes above her hand, and she blocked this too. Shwing! She tried to disarm him with a twist of her blade. His sword flailed out to the side, but he kept his grip.

  This sent the ladder swaying back and forth between the walls of the channel, nearly causing Edric to fall off. It was all he could do to hold on one-handed, as he recovered his balance and reset for the next clash. Taking advantage, Captain Fist sprang fearlessly upward, gripping the ladder with two fingers of her sword hand, while reaching up with the other to catch hold above Edric. She hoisted herself past him, leaned out around the side of the ladder, and barred his ascent with her sword. crash! Their weapons met and locked once more.

  “I will not let you go!” Captain Fist shouted over the wind.

  “You don’t have a choice!” Edric screamed.

  Then, without warning, the floor of the channel began to rise more sharply than ever. The airship pulled up, but not hard enough. Though the timbers of the ship’s mighty wings strained to change its pitch, its ladder’s bottom rungs now bounced along the stones.

  Whoosh!

  The ship broke free of the cloud, punching a swirling hole in the void. The ladder and its crew followed through the gap.

  At once, everything was visible up ahead. The rising channel terminated in a rocky cliff—a wedge of stone that projected past the mountain peaks to either side and out over the edge of a vast chasm. They were hurtling toward it, a ship’s length from the brink.

  Captain Fist took action. She knocked Edric’s sword away from hers, and, with a sideways slash, cut the rope ladder. She and Edric dropped onto the cliff. They didn’t fall far—only a matter of feet—but they fell hard. The rock caught them, and they were gone. Whoosh!

  The ship then hurtled out over the open chasm. Hob turned back to see Edric shrinking below, lying on the cliff just above Captain Fist.

  “go back!” cried Stella. “ga terug!”

  The ship tilted hard to the right and began to circle. Stella, Hob, and Monty clung to the soaring ladder.

  A strange world revolved around them. Thinning clouds filled the bottom of the chasm. And the roar of water rent the air. To the west, framed by mount
aintops, Hob was astonished to see the Riven Gate! The great dam stood open, just above the clouds, sending a towering flume cascading down the rocks, crashing and churning into the mist. Hob’s route through the mountains—south down the pass and back north up the gorge and channel—had returned him to the ravine.

  Rotating at the center of it all was the rocky cliff, and on it Edric and Captain Fist. Hob looked down at them as the ship circled. They had found their feet—and their swords. Edric retreated up toward the precipice, as Captain Fist advanced on him. They shouted at each other over the roar of wind and water.

  “Please!” Edric cried. “You saw that army! You know what we’re up against! The Sorcerer is back! You must let me go!”

  “No,” replied Captain Fist. She would soon have him cornered. “I swore to return you home by whatever means necessary. And ’zat is what I will to do. You will stay here, and become King!”

  Edric stopped, his hands wringing the hilt of his sword. “Not while my father’s still alive!”

  “But he’s not!” Fist cried, her voice cracking as she struggled to make herself heard. “I know it is hard, my Prince. But you must accept ’ze truth, as I have. He is gone.”

  “No!”

  Edric lunged. crash! Fist blocked his blade. And suddenly, they were dueling on the cliff.

  The rocky peak turned faster and faster as the airship closed in on it. crash! clank! clang! Edric was on the offensive. But Hob could see that Fist was merely toying with him. She calmly brushed aside his every blow, parrying but never attacking, waiting for him to make a mistake.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Edric hacked wildly at the Captain, over-swinging and throwing himself off balance. With a decisive blow, she beat back his sword, opening him up to attack. With a flourish, she caught his blade again, and sent it spinning up into the air. Then she took out his feet with a low kick, and rose to catch his falling sword, hilt in hand. Edric leapt up in defiance. But Captain Fist now held both weapons.