“There!” said Grandmother. “Now I can make a new spot-removing potion for Branwen. Would you bring in some wood from the woodpile, and hand me my cooking pot? And please bring me the last spot-removing potion and some chickweed and sassafras.”
Ivy did as Grandmother asked, then she left her to her potion-making. She picked up a bag of oats and went to find Branwen in her hiding place under the hazel trees. “Good morning,” Ivy said tiredly.
“How can it be a good morning with so much noise?” Branwen replied.
“Well, good morning anyway,” said Ivy.
“Does your grandmother have a new spot-removing potion for me?” Branwen asked hopefully.
“Not yet,” Ivy replied. “Her ankle has been hurting her.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Branwen said. “I wish I could heal her with my horn, but I just can’t. Tell your grandmother I hope she gets well soon.”
“Farmer Higley brought her a crutch, so she’s doing a little better. She’s working on your potion now.”
Branwen brightened up at this news.
Ivy turned and went about her chores. First she went to find the rabbit with the ear infection, but he was not in his burrow. She called him and called him. He was nowhere to be found. Then she went to find the porcupine who had lost some of her quills. She was nowhere to be found either. Ivy couldn’t find the mole with the toothache, and the pixies were still missing. There didn’t seem to be any other creatures left in the garden. A big, wet tear rolled down Ivy’s cheek.
Ivy returned to the cottage and sadly reported to Grandmother that all the small creatures had gone away.
“Oh dear,” Grandmother said, looking very unhappy. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
That morning, while Ivy was looking for the sick creatures, Mistress Peevish and the Honorable Mayor Peevish stood in the town hall with the ten town councilors.
“I tell you, there’s a goblin in our midst!” cried Mistress Peevish. “Meg the Healer is keeping it in her cottage! What are you going to do about it?”
“A goblin! Good heavens!” replied one of the councilors.
“Goblins are terrible!” said another.
“Is it a big one?” asked a third.
“Well, no,” answered Mistress Peevish. “It’s just a small one. But you can’t be too careful when it comes to goblins. Who knows, there may be more of them, just waiting to arrive! We’ve got to put a stop to this before we are all throttled in our beds!”
The mayor stopped chewing his fingernails and looked up at his wife. He pulled on her skirt to get her attention.
“What?” she growled.
He started to say something, but no sound came out.
“WHAT IS IT?” she snarled again.
Finally the mayor stuttered, “W-w-well, dearest, how do we know they’d th-th-th-throttle us in our beds?”
“They’re goblins! What more do you need to know?”
“Oh y-y-yes. I suppose you’re right,” the mayor replied. He went back to chewing on his fingernails.
“Of course I’m right!” Mistress Peevish snapped. “Now, who will come with us to the healer’s cottage and tell that woman the goblin has to go?”
The ten town councilors looked at each other and then at Mistress Peevish and the mayor, and each said, “I will!” Then they marched after them out the door of the town hall and down the street all the way to Grandmother’s cottage. Before they even got close to the cottage, they could hear the dreadful noise the baby goblin was making.
“There!” said Mistress Peevish. “That’s him now!”
“Terrible!” groaned one of the town councilors.
“Horrible!” cried another.
“It mustn’t be allowed!” said several others.
“Maybe he’s unhappy,” said the mayor softly, but no one paid any attention.
When the group arrived at Grandmother’s cottage, Mistress Peevish marched right up to the door and knocked loudly.
Ivy answered the door. “Grandmother, we have company!” she called when she saw that it was the mayor and his wife and the whole town council.
“Oh, do invite them in,” replied Grandmother. She had to shout to make herself heard over Burdock’s racket. So in they came. First Mistress Peevish, then the mayor, then each of the ten town councilors. Burdock looked at the crowd of people and bellowed even louder.
“Terrible!”
“Horrible!”
“It mustn’t be allowed!” said the town councilors.
Quickly, Ivy picked up a basket of mushrooms and began to feed them to Burdock. He couldn’t eat and holler at the same time, so it suddenly became quiet—except for his slurping.
“So nice of you to come by!” said Grandmother.
“Never mind that!” replied Mistress Peevish. “We’re here on official business—about the goblin.”
“Oh yes. The noise. It’s quite a problem,” Grandmother said.
“Well, you can’t have a goblin here anyway!” Mistress Peevish objected. “That’s been settled. No goblins in Broomsweep! Isn’t that so?” she said to the mayor as she poked him in the ribs.
“If you say so, my lovely,” the mayor replied.
“I do!” his wife cried.
“But…,” spluttered Ivy. “But we put up a sign saying Magical Creatures Welcome!”
“Well, we’ve decided that doesn’t apply to goblins! Maybe we’d better take the sign down!”
“But where will he go?” Ivy interrupted. “We can’t just leave him in the forest! He’s too little to take care of himself.”
“That’s not our concern!” responded Mistress Peevish. The town councilors all agreed.
“What we need is a way to return him to his own people,” said Grandmother. “Who among you is brave enough to go talk to the goblins?”
The town councilors turned pale. Two of them had to sit down quickly. “It’s certainly not our job to talk to goblins!” said a third. “The idea!”
“We don’t know where to find them anyway,” said a fourth.
“I found them,” said Ivy. “They have a village next to Carbuncle Swamp. Cedric took me flying, and we found them. But we couldn’t talk to them. They threw stones at us.”
“Of course they did!” said another councilor. “I’ve heard they’re terrible creatures! Moody and violent!”
“And also quite ugly!” added another. “So I’ve heard tell.”
“We can’t talk to such creatures!” exclaimed the mayor’s wife. “It’s out of the question!”
“Perhaps you could find someone who would,” said Grandmother.
“It’s your goblin, so it’s your job,” Mistress Peevish announced.
“Yes!” pronounced one of the councilors.
“Quite right!” exclaimed another.
“Entirely yours,” the town councilors agreed, and they hurried to leave.
“We’re coming back in two days,” cried Mistress Peevish. “That little goblin had better be gone by then! Isn’t that right?” she said to the mayor, poking him in the ribs.
“I suppose you’re right, bunny,” he replied.
“Of course I’m right!” she added, and with that, she and the mayor and all ten of the town councilors left Ivy and Grandmother to solve the problem by themselves.
Burdock finished eating and began to make his terrible noise again. Grandmother looked sad and tired. Ivy tried to think, but the clamor made it hard. Burdock had driven away the pixies and all the little animals who needed Grandmother’s help. His noise was getting on Cedric’s nerves, keeping Balthazar from his sleep, and making the neighbors angry. And he was making terrible trouble for her grandmother. Something had to be done. But what?
Ivy thought the only answer was to find Burdock’s goblin parents
to take care of him. But how? What if she took Burdock to the goblin village? The goblins seemed so mean. What if they were mean to little Burdock too? Ivy couldn’t stand to think about that. Someone had to go see what the goblins were really like and talk to them. Grandmother couldn’t go because of her injured ankle. Mistress Peevish wouldn’t go. The mayor wouldn’t go. None of the town councilors would go. Maybe Ivy would have to go herself.
Ivy started to form a plan. She was afraid of the Dark Forest, and she was afraid of the goblins. Should she take someone with her for protection? What about Cedric? But the goblins had already thrown stones at Cedric. Maybe if she went by herself, a little girl all alone, they would know she came in peace.
If only they were peaceful, if only they would listen! Then Burdock could be restored to his parents. The terrible noise would be gone. The sick animals could come back to Grandmother’s garden to be healed. And maybe, just maybe, the pixies would return. They could all live happily ever after again!
For the rest of that day, while she took care of Burdock, she made her plans. It was a long way to Carbuncle Swamp. It might take her most of a day to get there on foot. She could follow the path to Carbuncle Swamp, then travel along the edge of the forest until she came to the goblins’ village. She would need to take food and water.
And someone would have to take care of Burdock while she was gone. This seemed to be the biggest problem of all. Who could take care of the baby goblin all day, and even in the night? Someone who had no other job to do. Someone who knew how to take care of a baby. Suddenly Ivy thought of Mistress Peevish. Mistress Peevish had showed her the right way to put on Burdock’s diaper. And Mistress Peevish had helped Grandmother by making willow bark tea. Maybe she would help her again.
Early the next morning, before Burdock and Grandmother awoke, Ivy packed a basket with some supplies. Then she stowed the basket by the back steps, and ran to the mayor’s house. She knocked loudly on the door, but no one answered. “Mistress Peevish!” she called out. “Mistress Peevish, it’s me, Ivy!” She kept knocking until finally the door opened a crack.
A very cranky voice called out, “What is it? Go away! It’s too early for visitors!”
“Mistress Peevish, please help! I have to go into the Dark Forest and gather more mushrooms. It’s the only way to keep the baby quiet! Grandmother will need your help taking care of Burdock. Please come quickly before Burdock wakes up!”
“Me? Help you take care of that goblin? Is this a joke?”
“Please, Mistress Peevish. It’s no joke. Grandmother still can’t walk without a crutch. She’ll never be able to keep up with a baby goblin. Not like you can. Her ankle is still hurting her. And she needs more willow bark tea. And nobody can make it quite the way you do!”
There was silence from within the house.
“Please, Mistress Peevish! Won’t you please come?”
There was more silence. And more silence. Then the door opened, and Mistress Peevish looked at Ivy’s hopeful face. “Oh, very well,” she said. “I’ll come as soon as I’m dressed. But don’t think that this is going to change my mind!”
“Oh, thank you, Mistress Peevish!” Ivy cried. And she ran home again. She still didn’t hear any noise coming from the cottage. In just a few minutes, Mistress Peevish came down the street. Ivy met her at the door and whispered, “I’m going to go talk to the goblins. Please tell my grandmother not to worry about me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Ivy felt terrible, because she knew Grandmother would worry about her, but it seemed like the only way.
“But you’re only a little girl!” cried Mistress Peevish. “It’s too dangerous!”
“No one else will go—so it’s up to me!” replied Ivy. With that, Ivy darted around the cottage to the back door and got her basket. She looked toward the Dark Forest and gulped.
Ivy walked quickly down the road to the forest. All too soon she understood how the Dark Forest got its name; it really was dark! The treetops blocked out the sun and made everything look green. All around her were trees and trees and more trees. They all looked the same. Ivy knew that if she stepped off the road, she would be lost. The woods were full of shadows. She watched the shadows for hidden goblins, even though she was not near their village yet. She listened for scary sounds, but all she heard were birdcalls.
On and on Ivy walked. After a while, she got tired and hungry. She sat down by the side of the road and took some bread and cheese from her basket. A squirrel came up to her and looked hungry too, so she shared some of her food with it. Having some company made her feel better for a little while. The squirrel took some pieces of cheese from her hand and then skittered away up a tree. Ivy was alone again.
“Well,” she said to herself, “I might as well keep going.” She got up and went on her way. The sun was high in the sky now, but the forest stayed cool. Ivy breathed in the fresh air and listened to the birdcalls. She began to think the forest was not quite such a scary place after all, but she still watched the shadows for hidden goblins.
After a long while, the air seemed to change. It was not so fresh anymore. It began to smell like rotten eggs—and cow farts! Ivy knew she was getting closer to Carbuncle Swamp. The road was getting narrower as she went along. Pretty soon it was only a path. What if she lost her way? Then she might never find the goblins. And how would she ever find her way home? The path became harder to make out. Finally, she could see no path at all. Which way was the swamp?
The trees seemed to crowd in on her. Ivy tried to be brave. She whistled to cheer herself up. She thought of Grandmother. Was Grandmother thinking of her? Worrying about her? Maybe she should not have come into the Dark Forest all by herself. Little prickles of fear went up Ivy’s spine.
The shadows seemed darker now. Ivy walked around and around, looking for some sign of the path. Suddenly she tripped over a low branch. Something swooped up around her. It was a trap! She was caught in a big net, hanging from a tree. Ivy tried to wriggle free, but she couldn’t. She started to panic.
“Help!” she cried. “Help! Help! Help!”
Out of the shadows came some dark figures. They were about as big as Ivy, but they walked hunched over. They were gray-skinned and bald, like Burdock. They had big, warty noses, long white fangs, and pointed ears. Goblins!
“Look! We’ve caught a human!” said one.
“She’s trespassing!” said another. “This is our land!”
“Humans are egg stealers!” said a third.
“Egg stealer! Egg stealer!” they all began to cry.
Ivy tried to say, “No, I’m not!” but the goblins’ noise drowned her out.
“TAKE HER TO THE CHIEF!” shouted one goblin. “LET HIM DECIDE WHAT TO DO WITH HER!”
Another goblin shouted, “YES! TAKE HER TO THE CHIEF! HE’LL KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HER!”
The other goblins shouted, “YES! YES! TAKE HER TO THE CHIEF! MAYBE HE’LL LET US ROAST HER FOR SUPPER!”
Some of the goblins cut down the net. “Oh! She’s so ugly!” they all agreed. Then two of them grabbed Ivy by the arms and dragged her away. Two of the others fought over her basket. Ivy tried again to say, “I’m not an egg stealer!” but one of the goblins shook her arm and cried, “SILENCE, HUMAN!”
Ivy decided to keep silent until she could talk to the chief.
It seemed like they dragged her a very long way. The goblins whooped and hollered. They were overjoyed to have Ivy as a prisoner. Ivy trembled. She didn’t want to get in trouble with the chief! She didn’t want to be roasted for supper! Would the chief listen to her? She could tell they were getting closer to the swamp, because the terrible swamp smell was getting stronger. Ivy tried to hold her breath, but she couldn’t do it for very long. At last she saw some mud huts in the distance. It was the goblin village. Soon a horde of goblins came from the village and joined them. Big ones and little ones. They
all whooped and hollered some more. Ivy shivered. It was a big mistake to come here, she thought. Would she ever see Grandmother again?
Finally they came to the doorway of a mud hut that looked even muddier than all the rest. Big goblins stood on either side of the door, guarding it. One of the goblins holding Ivy said, “We have brought an egg stealer to the chief!”
One of the guards went in the hut. When he came back out again, he said, “Chief Earwig is coming! Hail to the chief!”
All the hollering goblins suddenly stopped their hollering and said, “Hail to Chief Earwig!” Then they were mostly quiet.
Out of the doorway stepped a little old goblin. His eyes were cloudy. His gray skin was faded and wrinkled. He wore a long cape and held a scepter made of a big, crooked stick.
“Bring forth the egg stealer,” he croaked.
The goblins who were holding Ivy pushed her up to stand in front of the chief.
“You are on our land, egg stealer!” said Chief Earwig loudly.
“I’m not an egg stea—” Ivy tried to say once again, but one of the guards looked her in the face and roared, “SILENCE!”
“One of our eggs was stolen from its hiding place!” announced Chief Earwig. “We could smell human all around there. A human took our egg! In return, we will keep you here with us! You will work for us forever!”
Ivy’s heart seemed to thump extra hard. “But the egg—” she opened her mouth to say.
“SILENCE! EGG STEALERS MUST NOT SPEAK!” shouted a guard.
“But—” Ivy tried once more, and the chief said, “One more word out of you, and you’ll be sorry!”
Ivy was getting a headache. At least the chief hadn’t said she should be roasted for supper. She decided to wait and find some other way to talk to him.
Ivy and the Goblins Page 5
