What Do You Say to a Naked Elf?

by Cheryl Sterling

  She swiveled, unsure which way would return her to Lowth. It all looked the same. Then, in the distance, she saw the bobbing of a pale yellow light. Not a white, artificial light that Earth would host, but a warm glow. A fire?

  Thinking Charlie had lit a torch, Jane hurried toward it.

  And fell right into the middle of a goblin camp.

  The goblins surrounded Charlie before he had a chance to escape. They leapt on him when he burst through the portal, tackling him to the ground. Within moments, a rough rope bound his hands and feet, and a gag cut off his words.

  Light from the full moons and the goblins’ torches illuminated pale green faces. Hauling him upright, slight frames belying their strength, they carried him into the center of the camp. Without ceremony, he was dumped on the ground near a large fire.

  Charlie twisted, seeking the leader. Though they’d never met, he knew of Wo’mmarph’s reputation. Fearless, Wo’mmarph had taken control of the nomadic goblins when the Dymynsh began decimating their numbers. By sheer guts and determination, he’d kept them alive. Even if it meant theft, raiding parties, and, more recently, the death of innocents.

  After several minutes, Wo’mmarph made his appearance. Bright feathers tied to long braids distinguished him as leader. His clothes, simple homespun and tanned animal skins, mirrored those of the others. He circled the fire once before he stopped in front of Charlie.

  “Welcome, Whelphite,” the chief said in a low, guttural voice, his words thickly accented.

  Charlie growled in the back of his throat. He’d been stupid to run through the portal without thought of what lay on the other side. Earthlings or goblins, he should have prepared better, but his thoughts had centered only on Jane. They still did. Nothing he’d seen or heard indicated her whereabouts. He had no idea what had happened to her. His telepathic inquiries were not returned.

  “You arrive before expected,” Wo’mmarph continued. His eyes, typical of his race, bulged like a frog’s. “We did not know if the portal found you or not.”

  Found him? The portal had looked for him? Charlie reeled at this new information. Did it think on its own, or did others control it? The goblins? Blacwin? After learning of Eagar’s schemes, Charlie didn’t think he could be surprised anymore. He’d miscalculated.

  “You save us time,” the goblin leader said. He waved expansively. “Shallen lies close. Tomorrow you go there.”

  Wonderful, Charlie thought. Wo’mmarph’s comment worried him. It proved an alliance with Blacwin—news Charlie did not want to hear. He’d expected to meet the wizard, but on more equal terms, not as a prisoner.

  The goblin threw a blanket in Charlie’s direction.

  “Sleep, Whelphite,” he said. “Much happens soon.”

  “Get up,” a rough voice ordered.

  Jane groaned and turned over, her body protesting the movement. Why did she ever agree to horseback riding with Tivat? Certain parts of her anatomy ached more than she’d thought possible. Her head as well, she realized. What had they put in her drink before she fell asleep?

  At the thought of alcohol and her pregnancy, Jane struggled to sit up, a difficult task as ropes bound her wrists and ankles. Coarse hands grabbed her and spun her around.

  She looked at a goblin much like the dozens that had swarmed around her the night before. Bug-eyed and long-limbed, they had skin that reminded her of a dirty McDonald’s St. Patrick’s Day shake. Minty green mud. Except this particular goblin had Irish green eyes.

  “Tivat?” she said with hesitation.

  “Shhh.” He held an elongated finger against thin lips.

  “Wow, you morphed into a goblin,” she said in amazement.

  “Except the eyes—I can never get them right.” He crouched next to her. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “Charlie?” Her voice broke. “What about Charlie?” She hadn’t heard from him, and it worried her.

  Tivat shook his head. “I don’t know. I spent most of the night searching for you.”

  Jane looked around. Predawn light showed scores of tents reaching into the distance. Purple mountains hunched over the camp. The faintest smell of the sea hung in the still air.

  “We lie an hour from Shallen.” Tivat answered her unspoken question. “I fear we underestimated our enemy.”

  Jane drew in a sharp breath. “Blacwin?”

  Tivat nodded. “I heard talk. He’s in league with these goblins.”

  She tugged against her bonds. “You have to get me out of here. I need to find Charlie.”

  His expression of grim negativity frightened her. “Dawn comes,” he said. “Too many eyes will see. We must wait until tonight.”

  Panic crawled under her skin. More time spent with her captors wasn’t on the top of her list. She’d been lucky yesterday. Several times she’d heard them call her “elf.” What if they learned of their mistake and found out she came from Earth? Had Blacwin put a price on her head?

  “They’ll see us tonight, with the full moons,” she protested. “Why not go now?”

  He placed a hand on her arm. “It’s too risky.”

  “Tivat—”

  “Do you want to meet Blacwin as a prisoner?” he rasped.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then you must wait.” He rose.

  Jane clutched at his leg with her tied hands. “No, you can’t go.”

  He looked her in the eyes. Conflicting emotions clouded his own. “I can’t stay. I’m goblin now and must blend in.”

  “You’ll come back?” Her voice cracked. She wanted to spill her guts about being the future queen of Malin, to throw a royal command his way, but first she had to prove her claim.

  Tivat nodded. “At full dark.” Abruptly, he moved away.

  Jane noticed two other goblins walking toward them.

  “How will I know you?” she croaked. “I haven’t been too friendly with these guys. I don’t want to punch you by mistake.” At his hesitation she added, “You all look and sound alike in the dark.”

  “You’ll know me,” he said, his gaze on the two who had stopped. They were engaged in a heated debate.

  Probably about me, she decided. To see who gets the first round. She didn’t want to think about what the activity would be.

  “Wait, Tivat.” She wanted to delay his departure as long as possible. “Let me give you a password to use.”

  “Password?”

  “You have them at Sylthia. Charlie told me.”

  “Yes, yes.” He glanced at the two goblins, anxiousness in his body language. “What do you want me to say?”

  What did she want him to say? She thought furtively.

  Tivat took a step.

  “The crow flies at midnight,” she blurted.

  “The crow . . .” Amusement tugged at his mouth.

  “Flies at midnight,” she finished. The two goblins had finished their argument and continued their journey toward her. “Remember,” she cried to Tivat.

  Charlie realized they’d drugged him. After Wo’mmarph had left, someone had given him charred meat and bitter ale—heavily laced with dalc cone, his pounding head testified. The drug was most effective if injected, but stirred into a drink it could lead to unconsciousness.

  The angle of the sun and the blue skies overhead told Charlie he’d slept through most of the morning. A gentle rocking motion indicated a journey by boat. Probably across Lake Shallen, a large inland body of water that surrounded the city.

  It’s come to this. Trussed up like a bird, his wings useless beneath Tivat’s shirt, he had no means of escape.

  Jane is lost to me, he thought in despair.

  One of the goblins rowing the boat noticed Charlie’s wakefulness. He muttered something in his own language. The others laughed, glancing at him in cruel amusement. He felt a sharp prick on his arm, and the sun exploded in his head.

  “The crow flies at midnight.”

  The amused whisper roused Jane from a light doze. On hyperalert all day aga
inst possible trouble from the goblins, she’d lain down after supper. She fully intended to stay awake, but exhaustion claimed her.

  “The deer run in the meadow,” Tivat improvised, his breath in her ear. She felt his hands at her bonds. “The midsummer moons come but once a year, and the babies are born in the spring.”

  For a moment, Jane thought he referred to her baby. Then she remembered Charlie telling her that most of the village women conceived during midsummer festivities.

  “Very funny,” she said. “How did you get past the guards?” Those two had hung around her all day.

  “This.” Tivat held up something. A knife. It glinted in the moonlight that escaped into her tent.

  Jane felt the pressure on her wrists lessen. The rope slipped away. She rubbed the circulation back while he took care of the binding around her ankles.

  Two dark lumps lay in the corner of the tent. Definitely goblin-sized. Definitely dead. Her guards, Mork and Dork. She’d seen nasty things on this journey, even death. Reality slammed into her.

  “Tivat?” she said, her voice shaking.

  He held her gaze, the hard flint in his eyes underlining the necessity of his actions and her continued peril. Slowly, she nodded. She’d asked him to be her guide, right? That role included protector and whatever it took to keep her alive.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, breaking eye contact. He pulled a small bundle out of the backpack that had been taken from her the previous day.

  Hunger shoved aside all other emotions. Jane snatched it from his hands. It smelled of roast beef. The dried-out leather she’d been fed earlier wasn’t fit to be made into shoes.

  “A Double Whammy burger,” she cried at the sight of meat wrapped in soft bread. She bit into it eagerly.

  Tivat sat back on his haunches and watched her devour the sandwich. “I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

  She shot him a killing glance. He apparently could be a chauvinist pig at times. Unfortunately, she needed him to get to Shallen.

  “Did you find Charlie?” she asked between bites.

  He hesitated long enough for her to grow suspicious.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Jane, they took him to Shallen earlier today.”

  “He’s still alive?”

  Tivat nodded.

  “Good. We’ll get him back. I wonder why I can’t hear him.” She’d told Tivat of her psychic abilities the day they’d started this journey.

  “That, I don’t know. Something must interfere.”

  “Or someone. Does Blacwin have that kind of power?”

  Tivat’s hand closed around her wrist. “An in-depth discussion we can have another time. Right now we have to leave.” He tossed her a bundle of clothes. “Put these on.”

  Jane recognized the homespun cloth the goblins wore. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Tivat released her. “The watch doesn’t change for two hours. Eyebrows will not be raised if your guards disappear into your tent until then.”

  The implication was clear. Jane swallowed hard.

  “Despite the moons’ light,” Tivat continued, “it’s still dark out. If we’re very lucky, I can get you out of camp.”

  “You don’t have a cloak of invisibility on you?”

  His gaze bored into her. “This is no time for jokes. Change.”

  “Turn your back,” she said sullenly. She’d glimpsed him naked and didn’t want the favor returned. As quickly as possible, she donned the coarse garments, rolling up her own and stuffing them into the knapsack.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Tivat did not move.

  “What?” she asked, alarmed. His hesitation seemed out of character. “John, what’s wrong?”

  He glanced away. “I have bad news.”

  Jane’s heart froze. “Charlie?” she gasped.

  Tivat shook his head. “Something we didn’t anticipate.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The portal,” he began.

  “Which one? Door number one or door number two?” His hesitation exasperated her.

  “The one to Earth.”

  Earth. She tried to think of a threat that might come from there, but it had been so long since she’d been home. Sharks? Killer bees? The Sopranos?

  “Tell me.” Portals, wormholes, parallel worlds. Carl Sagan had told her there’d be days like this.

  “Jane, someone followed your mother and me. He’s here, being held prisoner in another area of the camp.”

  She grabbed at his fur vest. “John, you’re making me angry. I’m not pretty when I’m mad.” She gave him a slight shake. “I killed you once, I can do it again. Who’s here?”

  “Your brother Kevin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Charlie lay on a plain cot, his hands bound, his head aching from the aftereffects of the dalc cone injection. He couldn’t tell the time or how long he’d been unconscious. A candle stuck in a wall sconce flickered in the windowless room.

  Something creaked to his left. He turned his head. The door swung open, admitting two figures. Not goblins, he noticed from their silhouettes. One was tall, erect. The other was small, warped and gnarled.

  Blacwin and his henchman.

  They can do what they want with me, as long as Jane is safe.

  “Whelphite,” Blacwin said, his voice deceptively soft. “You come too early. We did not expect you until tomorrow.”

  “I took a shortcut,” Charlie replied.

  “Ah, yes, the portal. It catches all types of strays.” He flicked at his dark cloak. “Too bad it has a mind of its own and we cannot control it. It would save time if we could have all the players in place.”

  His words heartened Charlie. If they didn’t have everyone yet, then hope remained for Jane.

  Blacwin circled, and Charlie got his first glimpse of the wizard’s face. A long-healed scar ran from jaw to forehead. A black patch covered his left eye.

  “We must wait for the Earthling,” Blacwin continued, his thick eyebrows wagging. “Do not fear, Tivat will bring her.”

  That’s what you think. How had Jane escaped capture? She’d run straight into the goblin camp, and her luck wasn’t that good. Unless Tivat had found her. Jealousy grated at Charlie’s nerves. He hated relying on the elf for Jane’s safety, especially when the result would be the same. She’d stand in front of Blacwin and receive her fate.

  “Leave her alone.” Anger spurred Charlie. He launched himself at the wizard, but a heavy blow to the stomach knocked him onto the cot. For the first time, he got a good look at the henchman who’d hit him.

  The dwarf stood no more than four feet tall, but was built as solidly as a stump. Powerful arms hung at his side, great hams of fists curled at the ready. A cruel pleasure warped his darkened features.

  “My assistant, Dave,” the wizard said in introduction.

  Charlie and the Dave the Dwarf glared at each other.

  “We have quite the reception ready for the Earthwoman,” Blacwin continued. “She is the center of a long, complicated plan. As are you.”

  “Why here?” Charlie snarled between clenched teeth. “Why bring us to Shallen? We were more vulnerable on the trail.” He thought of several times during the journey when they’d been easy prey.

  The wizard looked shocked. “Obviously they do not teach half-breeds the history of Lowth. Shallen is the ancient seat of power. If we are to change the world, it is most effective if it’s done here.”

  Half-breed. The term rankled Charlie.

  “Whelphite,” he corrected, proud of his heritage for the first time in his life. He came from admirable stock on both sides. “The elves of Sylthia taught me well.” Without preamble, he threw himself again at the wizard.

  Blacwin sidestepped the attack and snapped his fingers. “Dave, take care of him. Keep him sedated until we’re ready.”

  The henchman’s muscular arms bent Charlie to the ground. He felt the now-familiar prick of dalc cone. Blacwin’s face swirled
before him, and then there was nothing.

  A thousand questions assailed Jane. Kevin here? Why?

  “Is he okay?” she blurted. Her mind filled with demonic tortures the goblins might perform on him.

  “He’s fine. Confused, but in good health,” Tivat assured her.

  “Confused?” She felt the same way. How had Kevin got onto Lowth?

  “He doesn’t understand where he is or what’s happened.”

  “You’ve talked to him?” Jane tightened her hold on Tivat’s vest. “You knew he was here and you didn’t tell me?”

  Tivat shook his head. “I found out this afternoon, patrolling the camp borders. We didn’t talk.”

  “Then how do you know?” The two dead guards on the ground, the hundreds outside and a brother that needed rescuing frayed Jane’s nerves. She longed to flee.

  “Ashara,” Tivat said, his mouth lined in disapproval.

  “Who?”

  “Ashara Visance. An old comrade of mine.”

  The way he said the name led Jane to believe they’d been more than comrades. But were no longer on the best terms.

  “She found him in the Andair Forest, close to where your mother and I appeared from Earth. He must have followed us.”

  “Then we have to get him out.” Jane stood and flung on her backpack. A glance at Tivat showed his dislike of the idea.

  “Don’t even think about refusing,” she warned, shaking a finger in his face. “We’re not leaving my brother to these creatures.” She gestured to the dead guards, expecting their replacements to burst in at any moment.

  “Jane . . . ,” Tivat warned.

  “No is not an option, John.” She pointed toward the tent opening. “See if the coast is clear.”

  As they moved around, she saw the vastness of the camp. From her view earlier in the day, she’d counted eighty-seven tents. For a people exterminated by the Dymynsh, they had a heck of a remaining population. Upward of a thousand goblins must have survived. Fortunately, most of them slept. Only a few patrolled the perimeter.

  Tivat produced a scarf and Jane settled it over her hair. She supposed, to someone with very bad eyesight or on their way to a hangover, she might look like a goblin.