The goblin's curse sos-3

by Gillian Summers

  Mimicking Peascod’s moves, Toshi circled around him.

  “What did Peascod do?” Keelie gasped. She remembered Peascod mentioning “dimension travel.”

  Tavyn peered down his nose at her. His pointed ears peeked through his thick, silver-shot dreadlocks. “I thought you had studied the Compendium.” He used a condescending tone of voice that reminded Keelie of Niriel.

  “I did,” Keelie said. “It seems to have layers it decided not to reveal to me.” Like moving an entire faire to a different dimension. She definitely hadn’t read that chapter-she would have remembered it.

  “The book reveals what it wants when it wants.” Tavyn flicked his eyes over at Peascod, who had an idiotic grin on his grotesque face. His mask was gone, shattered by the debris, revealing the necrotic skin beneath.

  “The fool has lost his mind.” Tavyn turned to Keelie.

  She pointed at Peascod. “So, I take it he used goblin lore to… ”

  “Move the High Mountain Renaissance Faire to a different dimension.” Tavyn yawned, as if not caring about the danger he, too, was in. It seemed Peascod would do anything to get his freedom.

  “What dimension?” Keelie asked, as if she knew one from another.

  “It might be the one between the human world and the spirit world.” Tavyn looked around. “Hard to tell. Far from the reach of human, fae, or elven intervention.”

  “Can you send us back?” Keelie wanted the Rocky Mountains, and she wanted to be back on good ol’ Earth. She’d had enough of spirits and gods. She didn’t want to meet up with whatever lived in this neighborhood.

  “I’ll need the Compendium.”

  “Well, you know where to get it. Your jester has it.” If Tavyn could move the faire back to the Earth, maybe she could do the same. It was a stretch, but she was desperate. She didn’t trust him. He had aspirations to become a god to the dark fae.

  A line of fire landed near Tavyn’s feet and he jumped back. Keelie did too.

  She looked up in the sky at Finch flying overhead. The dragon circled around, coming in for another attack.

  The goblins went on the rampage again, taking advantage of this latest distraction. The shop owners and performers were losing the battle, despite the fresh dwarven troops fighting valiantly alongside them. Fatigue, despair, and confusion seemed to be written on the humans’ faces. The dwarves fought on with grim determination.

  Thomas the Glass Blower staggered toward Keelie, blood bubbling from a wound in his chest. He collapsed on the road, and the goblin behind him waved his bloody sword and roared in victory.

  “No,” Keelie shouted. She started to run toward the fallen merchant, but Knot leaped in front of her, causing her to trip. She landed hard on her knees but still managed to keep from breaking Hrok’s branch.

  “Meow too dangerous.”

  Thomas lay crumpled in the clutter-strewn, dusty lane, and his eyes dulled as life faded from his body.

  twenty-three

  Peascod glared at them from the road in front of Galadriel’s Closet. Toshi shook its head, but smiled as it looked directly at Keelie, and then clapped its little wooden hands.

  “Seems as if we have our first human casualty.” Tavyn arched an eyebrow.

  “Tsk. Tsk. The first of many casualties, including you, Tavyn,” Peascod called out. He clung to the Compendium, looking drawn and pale as his puppet soared toward the goblin-elf. “Although I should thank you for giving me that idea about moving the faire to this dimension. We can take care of our business unimpeded.”

  Keelie sent a “thanks a lot for nothing” glare at Tavyn.

  Tavyn held out his hand and the puppet stopped. It couldn’t move, immobilized by magic.

  “Peascod. I tire of your games.” Tavyn’s voice deepened. He pushed his hand forward, and the puppet zoomed back and slammed into Peascod.

  Keelie didn’t know what was wrong with Peascod, but it really looked like the jester needed to be in the hospital. He appeared to have aged in the past hour. But she couldn’t feel sorry for him-he had brought this fate onto himself. Remembering Cricket, Keelie couldn’t forget that it was Peascod who had killed the harmless little goblin.

  Toshi floated in front of her.

  Keelie recalled Sally saying that a poppet could store magic. What if Peascod had put his own life essence into the puppet?

  Destroy the puppet. Destroy Peascod.

  But how?

  Tavyn’s eyes flared with pure disgust as he glowered at Peascod. “I will deal with you later.”

  He turned to Keelie, and his eyes widened when he saw the branch. “I think I will take that gift from our friend Hrok.”

  He’d recognized the branch. It was all suddenly clear to Keelie. “You are a tree shepherd.”

  “Surprise!” Tavyn grinned, showing sharp goblin teeth. “My grandfather was a tree shepherd. Who’d guess the power would arise in me when I embraced my goblin side?”

  A goblin tree shepherd. Hrok had read it right. Keelie stared at Tavyn, horrified.

  Fire poured down from the sky, nearly hitting the goblin. Finch had zoomed in. Tavyn aimed a blast of magic up toward the retreating red dragon.

  “I have work to do. Call off the dragons, or I will order my goblins to kill each and every human found within this faire, children included.” Tavyn kicked Thomas’s body.

  Repulsed, Keelie wanted to blast Tavyn with green magic-but what if he could turn it against her? He was a tree shepherd too. Dad was right; she didn’t know enough about her own magic to be able to fight with anything but luck.

  “I don’t know how to reach Finch or Vangar when they’re in dragon form.” She shot a dark look at the goblin-elf. To think that people made comparisons between the two of them. Except for that halfblood thing, and being tree shepherds, they had nothing in common.

  “I suggest you find a way, tree shepherdess.” He flashed a smile at her, as if he found the situation amusing. He beckoned the goblins to bring Mara and her daughter forward. A goblin ripped the toddler from her mother’s arms. Little Ava screamed and Mara reached out, crying for her daughter.

  Keelie had to do something.

  “It’s up to Keelie-she has to call off the dragons,” Tavyn yelled above the terrified shrieks of the little girl.

  Keelie hadn’t been able to stop the rampaging goblins, and so far, she hadn’t regained the Compendium. But she had other ways to fight.

  She thrust Hrok’s branch into the dirt and called on the green that surrounded them. As the trees answered, desperate for help themselves, she thrust her power into the ground. If Under-the-Hill was still there…

  The dark coolness of the Under-the-Hill filled her head, but it wasn’t the abandoned mustiness of the one under the meadow. It was the spicy-scented warmth of Herne’s dominion.

  A roar came from the end of the road and chimes rang loud and clear, filling the air. Keelie turned in the direction of the noise.

  Tavyn frowned and pounded his fist into his hand. “What have you done?”

  A pulsing swirl of light, like the Aurora Borealis, formed in the middle of the path. It looked like the vortex at the Quicksilver Faire turned on its side. It separated the lines of fighting goblins and humans.

  Tarl and Sir Davey scurried out into the lane to carry Thomas’s body out of the way while the goblins were distracted by the light. A pirate grabbed a discarded goblin sword and came to stand at Keelie’s side, ready to defend her.

  A ground-shaking crack, like thunder, split the air. Literally. Where the pulsing whirl of light had once been was a pulse-edged sliver of darkness, a door into nothingness in the middle of the road.

  It widened, and a row of gleaming, prismatic-armored knights, lances ready, rode out of the dark sliver of doorway into the faire. Keelie gasped, recognizing the High Court’s fairy army. Humans, dwarves, goblins stood frozen, staring at the beautiful beings, and then the goblins charged.

  The armored knights lowered their lances and attacked. The dwarves follow
ed, howling battle cries. Keelie was startled to see Knot, wielding a lethal-looking short sword, to the left of King Gneiss.

  Tavyn screamed and ordered more goblins into the fray, while the humans threw themselves onto the rear guard of the goblin army. About fifty armored goblins split off from the fight and ran down the road to circle Keelie, Tavyn, and the pirate. The pirate hacked at arms and legs as they came near, wounding many, but to no avail. The goblins seemed impervious to pain.

  Keelie called upon the trees again, and they bent, their branches hitting some goblins on the head and sweeping others aside like ugly croquet balls in a crazy lawn game.

  One of the fairy knights turned his mount and galloped down the lane toward them. Tavyn screamed and leaped, landing on the roof of Galadriel’s Closet. Peascod grabbed Toshi out of the air and whirled underground in a spray of dirt.

  The knight reined in his horse and leaped to the ground, yanking off his helmet. Brown hair tumbled down the shining armor, and around her father’s grim face.

  “Dad!”

  He ran to her and swept her up in his arms.

  “How…?” Keelie asked.

  “Bruce, Deuce, and Zeus have a mutual friend in common with you, and I thought we could use his help,” Dad said as he turned her around. “We brought reinforcements.”

  “The High Court, yes. What mutual friend?”

  Another knight removed his helmet, and Keelie saw that it was Salaca, the fae lord. He bowed to her from atop his war horse, then put his gleaming helmet back on, wheeled his mount, and attacked the goblin army. The fae army kept marching out of the doorway-now standard bearers came, holding aloft great silken flags with strange symbols on them. Behind them rode King Fala, the crown of the High Court fae bright on his brow.

  And at his side, antlers proud, was Herne-with his Wild Hunt behind him.

  Herne caught Keelie’s eye and winked. And then the fae warriors, light and dark, fought side by side for the first time in millennia.

  Keelie looked for a weapon, ready to join the battle, but Tarl grabbed her up and held her fast to his broad chest.

  “Don’t let her go till the battle’s over,” Dad yelled, mounting his horse again.

  “Dad, come on, I want to help!”

  He rode away, intent on the endless hordes of goblins that seemed to spin out of the ground everywhere.

  “Sylvus take me,” Keelie whispered. Even the fae might not be enough to stop them.

  Tarl suddenly cursed and turned around. Raven was standing behind them, a pike in her arms. “You hit me!”

  “Sorry, Tarl. I saw Keelie and thought you were an ogre.” Raven shrugged. “You okay, kiddo?”

  “I will be if he puts me down,” Keelie said, but her eyes were on the carnage around them. “I think we’re losing. Even with the fae, we’re losing.”

  Raven pushed her hair out of her dirt-streaked face. One of her nails had broken, and blood stained her tank top. “I have an idea, but it’s a little crazy.”

  Keelie cocked her head. “Yeah? Tarl, let go of me. I’m not going to run or fight.” Yet, she added under her breath.

  As Tarl released her, Raven grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the ruins of the King’s stage. Tarl joined Merk the Troll and what seemed to be a real troll; the three whirled giant war axes and charged a group of rampaging goblins.

  “Remember when you drew on Earth magic in the Wildewood?”

  Keelie nodded. “I can’t do that here, though. We’re in another dimension or something, and I have no connection to the Earth.”

  Raven smiled. “No, but I have a connection to my husband. Remember him? The unicorn lord of the forest?”

  Keelie felt her eyes widen as she realized what her friend was saying. “We can link to the Wildewood through Einhorn?”

  “And through my Lord Einhorn, to every forest on Earth.”

  The two friends grinned at each other and joined hands. Then Raven closed her eyes and Keelie opened her tree sense. The image of Einhorn, the silvery-haired lord of the Wildewood, appeared.

  Raven, what’s happening? My forest screams.

  “Hang on, hubby. This is going to be a wild ride. Ready, Keelie?”

  Keelie pushed on her power and Einhorn immediately responded, their mental link showing him what was needed.

  Behind them, on the hills of the stranded faire, green power surged up from the ground, surrounding the fighters in tendrils of power. The fae and humans were untouched, but the goblins screamed as the power swept over them, leaving them vulnerable to the faire’s defenders.

  Channeling the magic took every ounce of Keelie’s strength. After a while, it was too much. She and Raven fought to keep the conduit open, but then everything winked out into a starless dark.

  When she opened her eyes again, Herne was standing over her. Fala stood nearby, talking to someone she couldn’t see.

  “Am I dreaming?” She touched her forehead. The aftermath of the magic hurt, like a dozen hangovers must hurt. Keelie vowed to never drink. She didn’t want to ever feel like this again.

  “Keliel, you’re back.” Herne bowed his head. “We were just discussing where we could be.” He studied the area around him. “Where are the mountains? I thought we were near the Rockies?”

  “Peascod used the Compendium to move the faire to another dimension.”

  Fala snapped his fingers. “That’s why we were rerouted here. I thought we’d hit an interdimensional exit when we neared Earth.”

  “Did we win?” Keelie immediately knew that the fighting was not over. She heard the clash of steel against steel further into the faire.

  “I thought we might have a time continuum problem,” Herne said to Fala.

  “Will you two stop talking like Dr. Who?” Keelie struggled to her feet. Raven was already standing, a little wobbly, nearby.

  “There’s Tavyn.” Keelie pointed toward the goblin, who now fought at the head of his remaining goblin faction, and then she saw Peascod, now sitting on the peak of the candle shop roof, nodding his head as he conferred with Toshi. He lifted his eyes and glared at Keelie.

  “We’ve defeated most of the army. Peascod is in a much worse state than I’d realized,” Herne said. “Like random chaos-you’re not quite sure what he’s going to do.”

  Finch and Vangar landed, and with a burst of flames, transformed into their human forms. They looked like a draconic biker couple in iridescent black and red leathers.

  “Glad for the reinforcements,” Finch said, her red-gold eyes flashing at Herne and Fala.

  “What a happy family reunion. Too bad it won’t help you in the end,” Tavyn declared as he walked toward them. Wild magic flowed in and around him like a captive cirrus cloud.

  Fala sneered disdainfully at Tavyn. “Who is he?”

  “A goblin-elf hybrid,” Herne explained. “He magically enslaved Peascod when I sent him out into the human world.”

  “I am no longer magically enslaved to him,” Peascod called down. His eyes blazed with crazed fury, and he was still clinging to the Compendium. Keelie knew she had to get it, and soon, before the jester did something destructive to it. Hrok’s branch twitched in her hand as if it was coming awake, or reacting to the magic.

  Fala turned to Herne. “Was he one of Vania’s allies?”

  “Yes,” Herne said.

  Fala drew his sword.

  Tavyn narrowed his eyes. “So you choose war rather than surrender.”

  “The fae do not parlay with goblins.” Fala glowered.

  A swirl of energy surrounded Tavyn. “You will. Goblins, attack!”

  The goblins roared and leaped forward, fearsome weapons slashing before them.

  Fala held his sword aloft. “Knights!” Fala and Herne led the charge for the good side. This time the odds were more even. Peascod scurried down from the roof and turned to flee, and Keelie bolted after him.

  “Not so fast,” she shouted. “Like I said, you have something that belongs to me.”

  Pea
scod whirled around and glared at her, the single bell left on his hat jangling discordantly.

  Thrumming with energy, the branch in Keelie’s hand pointed itself toward the Compendium. She realized the finding spell she’d cast before was still working. Time for the next step. She took a deep breath and grasped the branch more tightly. “Return to me what I have lost.”

  Energy from the branch flowed to the Compendium, and the magical book sailed out of the jester’s tight grasp and flew toward her. She caught it by the edge of the cover.

  Peascod shrieked in rage, picked up a turkey leg, and threw it at Keelie. It missed her head by inches.

  She had the Compendium. In shock, Keelie turned to Dad, who was running toward her. “I have the book!”

  “Keelie, watch out!” Dad shouted.

  Toshi was surging forward, a small knife in its hands, murderous intent in its eyes. As the puppet zoomed toward her, Keelie smacked it in the head with the Compendium. Toshi hovered back in surprise.

  “No,” Peascod screamed.

  To Keelie, it seemed as if everything was happening in slow motion. Peascod rushed past her to attack Dad. The jester’s bell rang out as they fought in a blur of arms, legs, and jester hat.

  Toshi rounded on her. Dropping the Compendium, Keelie grabbed an abandoned goblin sword and swung it at the puppet flying toward her. She smacked it with the side of the sword, batting it away. Toshi recovered swiftly, and, knife outstretched, returned like a puppet arrow.

  Keelie felt time slow as it drew near. She noticed every detail of Toshi’s tattered clothes, the painted eyes, the glint of the lethal little blade. With one swift move, she sliced off the head.

  It fell, bouncing, as the puppet’s body flopped to the ground.

  Dark energy flowed from Toshi like greasy smoke. It drifted toward Peascod, enveloping both the jester and Dad, hiding them in a dark shroud of noxious vapor. A loud gurgling emerged from within the miasma.

  “Dad?” Keelie took several deep, ragged breaths as she picked up the Compendium. As she touched the book, a wind blew and cleared away the dark fog. Two bodies lay, crumpled together, on the ground. She didn’t dare think about the impossible.