by Zoe Arden
"Done."
"And two. Be careful. Goblins are rather fond of bows and arrows. They like to shoot first and ask questions later. Especially trespassers. And you, Ava dear, are a trespasser."
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CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
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Beggars Forest was tall. The trees were ancient. They reminded me of a bigger version of the Redwoods. In my time on the island, I'd only ever skirted the edge of the forest. I'd never actually gone inside. I'd been tempted to—the sheer size and age of the trees were enough to draw curiosity out of even the most mundane creatures. But in the end, something had always stopped me.
According to William Carney, that something was the goblins. Though the wizarding community on Heavenly Haven openly acknowledged that goblins shared the island with them—along with pixies and vampires—no one ever seemed to want to discuss the subject in detail. Least of all Sheriff Knoxx.
I supposed I could understand why. He got enough grief from people about his heritage as an adult. What must it have been like for him as a child?
I wondered if I should have told my aunts where I was going this morning, but I was afraid they would have found a way to stop me. So instead, I'd told Snowball. I'd also given her explicit instructions to tell Eleanor and Trixie if I wasn't back by noon.
William had told me that the goblins had placed various enchantments along their land in an attempt to keep intruders out. Should anyone venture too near without permission, a feeling of intense anxiety would overtake them. Sometimes the anxiety manifested in bizarre ways.
Like the human who had suddenly decided he had had a paralyzing fear of oxygen, much to his fiancée's dismay. He'd insisted they leave the island at once and head back to the city, where the air was more polluted.
Then there was that time a group of young wizards had wandered into the forest together. Pre-teens who dared each other to run into the forest and touch a particular tree that was a hundred feet in and supposed to be infested with goblin mites. Which, William told me, weren't a real thing.
The tweeners had tried, one by one, to make it to the tree. The farthest any of them had gotten before returning was about twenty feet. They'd all been gripped by the sudden, overwhelming desire for chocolate ice cream. The fear of not getting it had made them all but fall into one long, ongoing panic attack.
When I stepped into Beggar's Forest, my first thought was not of ice cream or oxygen, but bugs. Giant bugs. I was certain that in a forest this size, they must exist. I wished now that I'd thought to ask William about such a thing.
"Just keep going," I muttered to myself, even though I could already feel my body wanting to pull back. My legs kept trying to move in the other direction. William had told me if that should happen, don't stop. Just move faster. The farther you got into the forest, the easier it would get.
Right now, though, I found that difficult to believe.
I kept my mind trained on the idea of getting to the rock William had told me about. He'd said I’d know it when I saw it. It looked like a giant lightbulb. By the time I reached it, the effects of the enchantment should have worn off.
I forced my feet to pick up the pace. My legs began to move faster and my heart began to race.
"One, two, three..." I counted off as I ran, hoping that by the time I got to ten, I'd be safe inside the forest.
"...ten..."
I stopped running and looked around. The forest seemed to have shifted. The trees still dwarfed me, but now they were more intriguing than frightening. It was almost like I could see them breathe. For every breath I took, they exhaled with me. I shook my head, positive it had to be my imagination. Up ahead a few more feet, a giant rock jutted unnaturally out of the ground.
"Once you get to the rock, you won't need to find them. They'll find you."
"What do I do then?"
"Just stand there and wait."
Willian had been right on all counts thus far. The rock I now leaned against was a quarter the size of the trees, which meant it was still about twenty times as big as me. I leaned against it, cooling myself in its shadow.
"Hellooo?" I called, feeling like an idiot. "Anyone here?"
The forest was surprisingly absent of sound. Which is why it was so jarring when sound finally came.
Leaves and twigs crunched under heavy footsteps.
"H-hello?"
A deep voice growled at me from fifty feet away. "Who are you?" It sounded like someone was talking through a bullhorn. The voice was deep, loud, and traveled for miles.
"Hi," I said, searching the trees for a face to go with the voice.
"Who are you?" the voice repeated. It sounded annoyed.
"I'm, um, Ava. Ava Rose Fortune. I came here to—"
"Go away."
"I can't. Not yet, anyway. I need to talk to someone about my friend, Lucy Lockwood. She's missing and I think some of your, er, people, might know what happened to her."
There were low whispers, and I realized whoever was speaking wasn't alone. Suddenly, a group of goblins stepped forward. I had no idea how they'd hidden to begin with. Their frames were enormous. They were short and scaly looking. An odd combination of gremlin and warthog. And there were at least ten of them. And one of me.
"Oh, my roses," I whispered and hoped they couldn't hear me. If they could, I hoped they weren't easily offended. Because I thought my heart had just stopped.
"You must leave this place," the goblin who sounded like a bullhorn repeated. "Go away. Do not return."
"If I could just talk to you for a minute. I don't mean you any harm." It sounded so cliché, but what else was I supposed to say? "I just need to ask you about my friend, Lucy."
Something whizzed by my ear. It sounded like a mosquito. I slapped it away, but another one whizzed by a second later. Bigger and faster.
"Oh, warthogs!" I cried. "They're not mosquitoes." A third arrow went sailing by my head, missing me by no more than an inch. I was pretty sure whoever had shot it had missed on purpose.
"Ava Fortune will go now. The time for talk is over."
Over? When had it begun?
A fourth arrow sailed through the edge of my hair, splitting my ends even more than they already were.
"I don't want to hurt you. Or eat you!" I cried, remembering the book in the library. That was the wrong thing to say. A series of grunts and groans echoed through the air. The goblins began to hop up and down and a hailstorm of arrows began to nip at my skin.
I had no choice. I abandoned ship.
Only cowards run, I told myself. An arrow grazed the top of my ear. I pushed it away with my hand.
Yeah, but they also live to fight another day.
For now, I'd have to settle for being a coward.
* * *
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
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I was back at the bakery by noon, much to Snowball's relief. She'd been waiting outside, about to tell my aunts what I'd done. I told her to go home and get some rest.
The familiar chime above the door soothed my nerves ever so slightly as I stepped into the aroma of oatmeal happiness cookies and raspberry pecan jump-for-almond-joys.
Eleanor looked tired behind the counter. The bags under her eyes had only gotten worse the last few days. I heard a loud snore from behind the swing door leading to the back and for a moment wasn't sure whether it was Rocky or Aunt Trixie.
"Aunt Eleanor?" I said. She jumped. I realized that she hadn't even registered my presence in the bakery.
"Oh, Ava. You startled me." Her voice trailed off as she took in my appearance. A big red scratch mark ran down my arm. Dirt covered my clothes. Leaves were tangled in my hair. "What happened to you? You haven't been trolling around Whisper Crossing again, have you?"
The
bakery had a few tables and chairs spread around. The backs were strung with green garland and holly berries. I couldn't believe that Christmas was so close. I took a seat at one, too sore to come up with any explanation other than the truth.
"I went into Goblin Territory."
Eleanor's mouth dropped open.
"You didn't!" The deep burgundy dress she wore highlighted the color that was fast flooding her cheeks.
I nodded.
"I told you not to do anything so foolish! I should have known you'd go anyway, especially when Rocky told me you asked him to take you there."
Ugh. Outed by a wolfhound. At least I knew I could trust Snowball. She was still running around Sweetland keeping an eye on Anastasia for me.
"I know, but I had to. Sheriff Knoxx is great at his job, but it’s been five days since Lucy went missing, and no one's found any sign of her. Anywhere."
"Yes, but—"
"I can't just abandon her. She's my best friend." I bit my bottom lip. "She's really the only friend I've ever had."
"Oh, Ava, I'm sure that's not true."
"You don't get it. Growing up, Dad never let me go anywhere or do anything. I tried making friends in school, but it's hard to keep them when your father insists on accompanying you on sleepovers and roller skating parties."
"Please tell me Eli did not really do that."
I sighed a laugh. "Constantly. By the time I graduated high school, boys knew to stay away from me. Unless they were okay with my dad tagging along on our date. No prom. No parties. No friends. I understand now why he was like that—how Mom's murder must have affected him—but at the time I didn't know anything about that. I loved him, but I resented him a little, too."
There was a creak from behind the counter, and I looked to see my dad standing in the doorway. The swing door partially obscured his body. He stepped out from behind it, his eyes glassy.
"Dad! I didn't know you were there!" I wished now that I'd kept my big mouth shut. I'd only wanted Eleanor to understand why finding Lucy was so important to me. I should have recognized my dad's snore in the back room.
"Ava, honey, I'm so sorry. I had no idea... all these years. I only wanted to protect you."
"I know, Dad," I said, rising from the chair. Seeing my father cry was probably the worst thing that could happen. It made me start crying. I threw my arms around him, pulling him into a bear hug. "It's okay," I mumbled against his shoulder.
I felt horrible that I'd upset him. When I looked up again, Aunt Eleanor was crying, too. Trixie came parading through the front door a few moments later. She stopped when she saw us all standing with tears running down our cheeks.
"What's happened?" she asked alarmed. "Is it Lucy?"
"No." I shook my head. "Lucy's fine. Or at least, I hope she is."
Trixie started to ask what the problem was then, when Eleanor interrupted.
"Do you know what your niece did?" she demanded of Trixie. Then she turned to my father. "Your daughter went into Goblin Territory. Alone."
My dad looked at me with wide eyes that screamed of a combination of anger and curiosity.
It suddenly occurred to me that it was strange he was at the bakery. He didn't normally come down here. And why had he been sleeping in the back room? It's not like there was a bed back there. I looked at his face a moment and realized it was blotchy and pale. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him look so sick. Maybe he was getting a cold?
"Please tell me my sister has lost her mind," Trixie said.
"I'm afraid not," I replied. "I had to go, though." I was tired of defending myself. "Lucy's still missing and the goblins are the only ones who might know something."
"What makes you think that?" my dad asked. "Are you basing this all on that set of footprints you found at Whisper Crossing? Because that's pretty thin evidence, Ava."
"It's not just that," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. The truth was, it wasn't just the footprints. It was a gut feeling I had. But I didn't think that would go over too well as evidence of goblin involvement.
"Aunt Eleanor, can't you talk to Sheriff Knoxx for me? He's part goblin. I'm sure if he went with me next time, they'd be much more receptive."
"Absolutely not!" Eleanor said, aghast that I'd even suggest such a thing. "Zane—I mean Sheriff Knoxx—has enough on his mind already. He's doing everything he can to find Lucy."
"I know he is."
"Maybe Ava has a point," Trixie said. I snapped my head toward her. Thank the roses someone was on my side. "It couldn't hurt to ask them. Goblins have a way of being in the right place at the right time. Someone may have seen something."
Eleanor's lips curled back. I could tell she was really angry. "I will not, under any circumstances—"
She was cut off before she could finish her thought. The front door burst open and Melbourne Hammond ran inside. He was out of breath, and his face was even whiter than usual.
"Has anyone seen Pennyweather?" he asked between gasps for air.
We all looked at each other uncertainly.
"Not today," Eleanor finally said. "Why?"
"I can't find her anywhere," Melbourne said, his voice cracking. "She's missing."
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CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
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My father had to restrain Melbourne from jumping out of the car when we rolled up to the sheriff's station. Melbourne already had one foot out the door and was about to get it run over by a wheel when my father yanked his shoulder and forced him back into the seat.
Eleanor jolted the car to a halt.
"Let me go!" Melbourne cried.
"Not until I'm sure you're not going to get yourself run over." My father looked around our parking space and, once satisfied that Melbourne wasn't about to get creamed by another car, let him out.
"Do you really think Pennyweather's missing?" I whispered to Trixie as we walked into the station behind him.
"If she's not, she's got one very frantic boyfriend she's gonna owe some big apologies to."
We walked fast but Melbourne still beat us into the station by a mile. By the time we got inside, he was already rambling to Deputy Otis Winken, the Barney Fife of Sweetland Cove. Otis stood there scratching his head and trying to calm Melbourne down.
"Now just listen a minute, Melbourne," Otis said. His thin frame seemed to shake the more Melbourne breathed on him. Otis was like a twig that could get blown over at any second.
"She's gone, I tell you!" Melbourne bellowed, almost knocking Otis over. It didn't help that every time Melbourne yelled, Otis began flapping his arms like a bird. I thought he was trying to steady himself.
Sheriff Knoxx rubbed his temples as Margaret Binford stood beside him, her hands on her hips. I wondered what she was doing here and felt bad for Sheriff Knoxx having to deal with her on top of Melbourne.
"You see!" she shouted.
I couldn't decide who was louder—Margaret or Melbourne. They kept shouting over each other, which only made the whole thing worse.
"You have to find her!" Melbourne pleaded.
"I knew this would happen!" Margaret yelled.
Sheriff Knoxx rocked back on his heels and took a deep breath. He picked a stapler off his desk and absently began to twirl it in his hands.
"Quiet!" he roared.
Everyone stopped talking.
"You," he pointed to Melbourne, "over there."
Eleanor and Trixie each grabbed one of Melbourne's elbows and steered him away from Margaret and the sheriff before he could start talking again. They forced him into a chair at the back of the room. Otis gratefully followed.
"You," Sheriff Knoxx said, rounding on Margaret, "out."
My father stood in the center of it all, his head bouncing back and forth like he was watching ping pong match.
"I was supposed to meet her for breakfast," Melbourne told Otis,
who was trying to type everything into a computer. The computer squawked at him. Then squeaked. Until finally Otis gave up and grabbed a pen and paper.
"When she never showed up, I knew something was wrong. I went to her house and found the door unlocked. When I walked inside... she... there... her stuff was everywhere."
Otis nodded sympathetically. "Anything else that you noticed was out of place?"
"Just the smell. It was like a rotten egg had exploded all over her walls."
Melbourne hiccupped, and Margaret took that as her cue to crow at Sheriff Knoxx some more. She put her hands on her hips and bent forward at the waist. It took all my strength to suppress a laugh. She looked like a chicken.
"I came down here to talk to you about Lucy Lockwood," Margaret scolded. "And I find out that you've got another disappearance on your hands. Did you think you could keep this a secret?" Spittle flew from her mouth.
The sheriff ducked out of its way before it could smack him in the eye.
"I just found out about Pennyweather's disappearance," Sheriff Knoxx tried to reason. "Literally. Just now. At the same time you did."
"That's no excuse. You've had ample time since Melbourne barged in here to begin... well, something. Phone calls. Missing persons posters. For witch's sake, you haven't even taken his statement yet."
"Oh, I've got his statement, Ma'am," Otis said.
Margaret's face turned eggplant. "Did. You. Just. Call. Me. Ma'am?" Her teeth were clenched so tight I thought they might break.
Otis turned pale.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Binford."
Margaret rounded on Sheriff Knoxx one last time. "I suggest you figure out what's happening in Sweetland, Sheriff Knoxx. Fast. Or the next time I see you, you won't be sheriff anymore."
