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by Vivian Vande Velde

  Angrily, I gave him a shove down the hallway where Robin and Marian said the goblin with the silver tray had gone. This hallway was lavender.

  Not knowing where he'd delivered that tray, we had to check each room. We passed a pantry, a linen closet, and a study. There was a goblin sitting at a desk in the study, and Cornelius shot him with a blast of Wizards' Lightning from the doorway. The next door opened on a set of stairs leading up in a tight circular twist, obviously one of the turrets we had seen from outside.

  On the second floor, the walls were the color of lilacs. As on the first floor, there were life-size pictures lining both sides. We crept up to the nearest door and Thea, first in line now, peeked in.

  Frantically she gestured us back to the stairwell.

  "What?" we whispered at her.

  She made shushing motions and gathered us in even closer. Barely audible, she whispered, "It's her—the princess. But there's half a dozen goblins in there guarding her. We can't just burst in, or they might hurt her."

  "Burst in is exactly what we've got to do," Feordin said. "Just like in the kitchen: neat and clean."

  "Yes," Marian said. "We've got to be super quiet."

  Behind me there was a crash. I whipped around and saw that Nocona had knocked one of the pictures off the wall. Perhaps he had simply leaned against it accidentally.

  Perhaps not.

  Feordin put his knife under Nocona's chin.

  The rest of us stood poised, waiting to see if anybody would come to investigate.

  My heart beat so hard I had a coppery taste in my throat. I wanted so much for this to be over.

  We waited.

  And waited.

  I glanced back at Nocona, whose eyes dared me to accuse him. Another picture hung crookedly on the wall as though he'd brushed against it too. I noticed because the wall behind was a darker shade of purple, as though the picture had been hanging a long time. I picked up the one that had fallen to rehang it—no reason to let anyone see we'd come this way.

  The first thing I noticed was that this was the last picture on the wall, though there was room for maybe three more before the stairs.

  The second thing I noticed was that the picture had been hung recently enough that for this one there wasn't an outline on the wall.

  The third thing I noticed was that the picture was of a group of men dressed in what I suddenly recognized as the uniform of King Ulric's Grand Guard—Princess Dorinda's bodyguards.

  Nocona, also looking at the picture, raised his eyebrows.

  Before I could mention any of this, Marian nodded impatiently toward the room and took off without us.

  Feordin finally removed his knife from Nocona's throat, with a look warning that next time he wouldn't take any more chances.

  We crept after Marian to the door. I got the briefest of glances, but it was enough. There were six big goblins wearing all sorts of glittery medals and epaulets. Veterans. War heroes. Tough guys. They were all holding their swords up in the air, standing around the princess, who was sitting on the edge of a large canopied bed. She was small for her age, looking no more than six, though I knew she was ten. Her light blond hair was a tangled mess around her heart-shaped face, which was incredibly pale. No wonder, considering the goblins looked like they were about to chop her to pieces. She was facing us; the goblins had their backs to the door.

  For the briefest moment I thought we were in luck. If only the princess didn't react to our presence. I saw her eyes focus on us. I put my finger to my lips.

  She screamed.

  Probably I would have too, if I'd seen somebody who looked like me, who looked like any of us.

  She jumped off the bed, even with those armed goblins standing there, and tried to crawl underneath the overhanging comforter.

  The goblins, naturally, whirled around to face us.

  Two fell right away, one vaporized under Wizards' Lightning, the other with a stone right between the eyes. As the rest of us moved in—me, Thea, Feordin, and Marian—I heard Robin call out, "Don't be frightened, Princess Dorinda. We're here to rescue you."

  The goblin I was matched up against swung his sword distressingly close to my midriff.

  I parried, and our swords came together with a clang like someone whacking a flagpole with a metal two-by-four.

  He was a lot fresher than I was, and a lot stronger. I found myself hard pressed just to defend myself, parrying instead of thrusting, and backing up. We rounded the corner of the bed, me trying to escape, him trying to pursue, and I stepped on Princess Dorinda's fingers as she tried to crawl out from under the bed to make her escape.

  She scurried back under the bed, which was where I would have put her if I had the choice, but meanwhile I felt the wall at my back and still that goblin came.

  My right arm began to ache from wielding the sword, and I knew I didn't have the strength in my left arm to switch, not since Wolstan. I slid along the wall and backed into a piece of furniture, a low table with the silver serving tray we had been following and some sort of tiny cage.

  If he'd only let up for a second, I thought, I could reach behind me with my left hand, fling something from off the table at him, then—while he was distracted—finish him off.

  He didn't let up for a second.

  I kept backing up, and the wooden table scraped across the flagstone floor with a skitter-screech I could feel in my jaw.

  And still from the goblin there was this flurry of sword thrusts and swings and jabs, and I was breathing through my mouth and still not getting enough air, and the table leg snagged on a slightly raised flagstone and tipped, and I went down with it.

  There was a flash of light and a smell of sulfur. I listened—once I could hear above the pounding of my heart—and realized the fighting was over. Wonderful. The climax of our adventure, and here I was flat on my back, once again rescued by the superior ability of the others.

  From under the bed, Princess Dorinda looked out at me like I was a princess-eating ogre.

  "It's all right," I said. I switched my sword to my other hand and reached out to her.

  She flinched.

  "We're going to take you home," I said, trying to sound as gentle and reassuring as I could, lying there on my back among the ruins of the splintered table, covered with sweat and grime and orc, wolf, and goblin blood.

  "Home?" Her voice was a scared little kid's voice.

  Thea came round to the near side and stooped down closer. "We've come to take you to your father. We've come to rescue you."

  Slowly, still not completely trusting us, Dorinda crawled out from under the bed. "You're not going to hurt me?" she asked, looking pathetically at each of us with her pale blue eyes.

  "Of course not," we all assured her.

  Except for Nocona, who was gagged.

  Suddenly Marian gasped. "Oh, no!" I thought she was extending her hand to help me up. But she was pointing at something on the floor: the cage I had glimpsed on the table. It was made of gold, and it held a little chipmunk. "Look what you did, Harek. The poor thing."

  "Everything's all right," I said. "Don't worry, I'm fine." But I picked the cage up anyway. The brown-striped creature looked at me with its tiny black eyes. "And you're all right too, aren't you, little fellow?" I smiled encouragingly, and the miserable beast sank its teeth into my finger. "Yow!" I let the cage drop.

  "Harek!" Marian picked the cage up by its wire handle. From talking to me in a growl, she shifted to a friendly salesman purr. "Is this your pet?"

  The princess nodded.

  "What's his name?"

  "Chipmunk," the princess said.

  "Clever name," I said.

  Robin, helping me to my feet, stomped on my toes.

  Marian said, "Do you and Chipmunk want to go home?"

  Dorinda nodded.

  "All right, then." Marian handed her the cage. "We've got to go quickly and quietly."

  Dorinda nodded solemnly. Although her size made her look younger than she was, her sa
d eyes were of someone who was much older, someone who had seen more of the world than any ten-year-old should have.

  Take-command Marian put her arm around the princess's shoulders.

  The princess said, "Do you know about the back way?"

  "The back way?" We all looked at one another.

  "It's a secret shortcut."

  I shook my head. "We left one of our people in the dungeon," I said. "We have to go back for her."

  "The dungeon's where it leads," she said. She nodded toward the back door.

  "I'll check it out," Cornelius said. He opened the door. Beyond was a deserted hallway, a mauve-colored one. There was only one door, way down at the far end.

  "This way." Dorinda dashed ahead of us.

  "Dorinda," Marian said, not quite daring to shout. "Honey."

  Dorinda got to the door a full five yards ahead of us. Robin and Feordin were in the rear, dragging Nocona between them.

  "Wait!" I called.

  She flung the door open anyway.

  My heart almost stopped, but she said, "See, nobody here," and disappeared through the door.

  We followed her, all of us.

  And found ourselves in what had to be a goblin barracks room.

  Filled with goblins.

  Dorinda stood in the midst of them.

  I heard the door slam shut behind us. Dorinda said to the goblins, "Arrest these clowns."

  36. PRISONERS (PART IV)

  We could have put up a fight. After all, we already had our weapons drawn.

  On the other hand, they outnumbered us about five to one. And they had us surrounded. And they were rested and well fed and uninjured. And it took them about two seconds to get their weapons drawn. Other than that...

  "Here we go again," Cornelius muttered.

  We let our swords clatter to the floor.

  Several of the goblins hustled forward and searched us for hidden weapons. They took my dagger, which Thea had just gotten around to returning, and relieved Robin of several knives and files and assorted whatnot. They also found Cornelius's knife and Marian's gauntlets of power.

  Dorinda sat down on one of the cots. Her feet dangling over the edge, not quite touching the floor, she said, "They have a companion in the dungeon. Somebody go fetch her, too."

  I should have known, I told myself. Given the way this game had gone at every other stage, I should have known Rasmussem wouldn't give us an ordinary blond-haired, blue-eyed princess to rescue.

  "What about this one?" one of the goblins asked, indicating Nocona, his arms bound behind his back with Thea's belt. "Is he one of ours?"

  "No," Dorinda said. "But it's a good idea. Tie them all, then bring them up to the tower. I'll meet you there." The goblins saluted by raising their swords. Just like they'd been doing in her bedroom. She left, carrying her nasty pet chipmunk with her.

  The goblins jostled each other for the privilege of tying us up, and naturally those who won were the strongest and meanest. The one who did me almost broke my arms getting them behind my back—despite the fact that I was cooperating—and tied my wrists tight enough to cut off the circulation.

  We ended up with three guards; the rest settled back to doing whatever it is that off-duty goblins do. Our guards had knives that were almost as long as our swords, and these they never put away. In the hall, they waved the knives under our noses and shoved us and bounced us off the walls and called us names rather than just telling us where they wanted us to go—which would have been easier on us, but I guess not so much fun for them. Where they wanted us to go turned out to be back to the turret with the stairs. Up we went.

  And up.

  And up.

  And up.

  The higher we went, the narrower and steeper the stairs became, especially after the fifth-floor landing, which was where the castle building ended and the tower corkscrewed out and up into one of the absurd towers we had seen from the ground. We went single file, which was all there was room for: first a goblin, then Feordin, then Cornelius, Robin, Marian, the second goblin, Nocona, me, Thea, the third goblin.

  Ahead of me Nocona tugged and strained at the belt around his wrists—the belt Thea, and not one of the goblins, had tied. Which probably meant it wasn't as tight as our ropes. I know I couldn't budge my hands. I stayed close, hoping to hide his struggles from the goblin behind Thea.

  Finally his right hand came loose. Nocona caught the belt with his thumb to prevent it from dropping and becoming obvious. He was quick enough that I was certain even Thea behind us hadn't noticed.

  Now what? I thought.

  Nocona stepped on the heel of the goblin ahead of him.

  The guard stumbled, half falling into Marian, right ahead of him. He whirled around, holding his long knife to Nocona's throat. "You eager to die?" he asked.

  I stood real close to Nocona to hide his loose arms from the rear guard, who was crowding us to see what the excitement was.

  Nocona, gagged, said nothing.

  "Crazy man is eager to die," the goblin said to his companion, to both companions: the guard who'd been in the lead had stopped to watch, too. The goblin sliced his blade through the gag, just hard enough to draw beads of blood across Nocona's cheek.

  Nocona never flinched.

  "Crazy man," the goblin repeated. He flipped one of Nocona's braids.

  Nocona looked past him. He looked at Marian. He spat out the remnant of gag and said to Marian, "Sorry, Feordin."

  Marian's eyes widened slightly, that was all. I didn't see any reaction from Feordin, and I didn't look at any of the others.

  "No talking," the guards chorused.

  "I was just worried about Feordin's rope," Nocona said. Then, to have it seem to make sense to the guards, he added, "Being too tight."

  "Never mind and no talking." The middle guard spun Marian around to face forward. "And you"—he jabbed Nocona with the index finger of the hand that still held the knife—"you'll look just the same in the Lady's picture whether you have a tongue or not."

  We started back up the stairs. Again I kept close enough to block Nocona's hands from the rear guard. The trouble with that, of course, was that I blocked his hands from Thea, too, so that she couldn't see what was going on. Nocona slipped the belt off his right wrist. He moved both hands to the front. I took that as my signal. I threw my weight backward, falling onto Thea, who fell on the rear guard.

  Nocona whipped the belt around the neck of the middle guard and yanked.

  I heard a scuffle at the front of the line, but the curve of the stairs prevented me from seeing what was happening. Not only that, but the guard Thea and I had landed on was trying to squirm out from under us. Somewhere under all that cursing and flailing was a knife long enough to skewer Thea and me both.

  "Hurry up!" I yelled. I pressed back, knowing I was squashing Thea, but hoping to hamper the goblin. Together we slid down another two stairs, but the curved walls kept us from ending up all the way down on the fifth-floor landing.

  Nocona whirled around with the dead goblin's knife.

  My words played back in my memory: You're just taking things out on me because you're worried that you're turning into a werewolf. Seeing Nocona standing there over me with that knife in his hand, I suddenly had a mental image of the moment I'd betrayed him. When I pushed the image away, I got Wolstan, watching me from across the campfire, his eyes red and hungry.

  As Nocona's were now.

  He raised the knife.

  I rolled to the right, slamming myself into the wall, digging my elbow into Thea's stomach.

  There was nowhere to go.

  I kicked Nocona's knee and he pitched forward, breaking his fall by putting out his left hand, which slammed into my face. A wave of nausea swept over me, and for a second I thought I was going to pass out. Do that and you'll die over a broken nose, I told myself and forced things back into focus.

  Nocona's attention had momentarily been diverted from me. He was on his side, but I could see him jam the knife
down with both hands and remembered, too late, how I'd instinctively rolled out of the way of that knife. And left Thea exposed.

  I kicked him in the small of his back, and he let go of the knife and rolled toward me. I heard Thea groan, which was wonderful—proving she was still alive. But the next moment Nocona brought his knee up sharp into my groin. I curled around the pain, then tried to whack his head with mine, though the entire area around my nose was throbbing. I only hit his shoulder. He put both hands around my neck and started to squeeze. Each breath brought the taste of my own blood, and there wasn't anywhere I could move.

  Somebody grabbed hold of my hair, which was weird because Nocona had both his hands around my neck. The goblin! I thought. In all our grappling with each other, we'd forgotten the goblin.

  But there was a hand in Nocona's hair too, and both hands pulled in opposite directions.

  "Marian," I gasped. Evidently they had overpowered the lead goblin and freed themselves. Of course it was too late for poor Thea. "Let go."

  "Knock it off, you two," Marian snarled.

  And Thea, her voice muffled, said, "And get off me."

  Obviously she wasn't as badly dead as I had feared.

  In a moment Robin and Cornelius came around the corner. "Everything under control?" Cornelius asked.

  "Yeah," Marian said shortly. "Right."

  We finally got untangled, and I saw that it was the goblin guard that had Nocona's knife in him.

  Oops.

  Nocona pulled it out of the goblin's chest to cut Thea's bonds, and then mine.

  "I'm sorry," I said, holding my hand to my nose, trying to stop the bleeding. "I thought—"

  "I am not," he announced to all of us, "a werewolf."

  Cornelius said, "Harek, I think we're going to have to overrule you on this one."

  Me?

  "But...," I sputtered. "I never..."

  Silently Nocona slipped the knife into his belt. Then he took the second knife from the corpse's hand and tossed it to Robin. Not that I could have used it—it was probably iron—but it sure didn't look like the thought ever crossed his mind. Still never saying a word to me, he headed back up the stairs.