Goblins Wear Suits

by K. M. Shea

“Oh, look. She’s mad at us,” the probably-a-cheerleader said.

  “Why? What we’re saying is so true. It’s an ugly dog.”

  It was undeniable that the glamour made Doggy a less than…magnificent looking creature, but there was no reason to make him into a conversation topic open for mockery. A horrified look or a tight comment while passing I could understand, but to sit there and make fun of him? That was mean.

  I nonchalantly looked around. At the moment most everyone in the area was pressed in against the train track. “Doggy,” I said.

  The miniature dragon looked up at me.

  “Achoo,” I said.

  The dragon copied the noise, sneezing up flames.

  This made the teenagers scream like harpies. The cheerleader sitting on her boyfriend’s lap almost knocked him over as she scrambled to get up.

  “Okay guys,” I called. “We’re going to the next exhibit. Oak, catch up when you feel better,” I said, hot footing it out of the area.

  “But we were playing I spy,” Madeline complained.

  “Where are we going next?” Sacmis the sphinx asked.

  “Farm Tech,” I said.

  “So it’s about farming?” Corn asked, brightening.

  “Yep. But we need to get going. Let’s go, go, go,” I said, shooing my group out of the hall—Oak was the last to follow after.

  I shot a triumphant look over my shoulder at the hysterical teenagers. They had created such a ruckus a museum guard approached them, and looked like he was going to throw them out.

  “Who’s the ugly one now?” I smirked before I hurried after my group.

  The Farm Exhibit was…well I think it was the favorite exhibit for my students, but it was probably my least favorite. Perseus and Athena crammed themselves into a farm tractor—which sounds fine but that’s only because you don’t understand. Glamours are just illusions. The body is still the same, nothing is transformed. It’s just covered up. That’s why I had to tie Doggy’s leash around him instead of fastening it to his service animal vest.

  Perseus’ girl disguise—and Athena’s—cloaked their horse bodies, but their bodies still existed. I have no idea how they maneuvered themselves up there, but they did it. And then they couldn’t get out or down.

  A museum employee came and yelled at us before Harrison stepped in because a bunch of little kids wanted to try the tractor and Perseus and Athena couldn’t get out.

  Then there was the Poop Power station. Oh man, you don’t even want to know what happened there. I’m still embarrassed.

  We went to a bunch of other exhibits—the chick hatchery, the whispering gallery, toy maker 3000, etc—and decided to finish our tour with the Colleen Moore’s Fairy Castle.

  I had mixed feelings about this. When I was a kid it was my favorite exhibit in the whole museum. My group insisted on visiting it because they wanted to know what kind of castle humans thought fairies would live in. In general, whenever we view an exhibit that has even a hint of the magical, my students get horribly loud and do their best to obnoxiously point out every mistake.

  Thankfully this time they kept their mouths shut because they were awed with the craftsmanship.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Madeline said. “It’s like a fairy dollhouse.”

  “The high elves used to have castles like these—full scale ones,” Oak said, lingering in front of the dining room.

  “This is Cinderella’s drawing room?” Kadri asked. “I see her, in the mural.”

  “The bathroom is incredible,” Athena reported from around the corner of the castle.

  “In spite of humans’ ingenuity and push for the future, it’s nice to see you still have an appreciation for old, beautiful things,” Asahi said, smiling at the castle.

  “It is,” I agreed, standing guard at the exhibit entrance. The Fairy Castle was popular with only a certain demographic—little girls—and as a result it tended to be busy in waves. Thankfully we had arrived at one of the slow times and were the only ones in the room.

  “So humans really think us to be pretty and good creatures?” Zinnia—the last drabby fairy—asked.

  “For the most part, yeah. Haven’t you seen Tinkerbell? I thought you said your aunt lived in Disney World,” I asked.

  “Yes, but that is just one medium,” Zinnia said. “It is gratifying to know others hold that ideal close as well.”

  “Well, you guys are mostly good,” I said. “I mean, there are a few exceptions, but in general magical beings are really kind considering what we humans have done to you.”

  Oak shook his head, his mouth a grim line. “No, we are not kind at all. Perhaps now, but in the past…” he trailed off.

  “You mean history. Like the old stories about fairies leading people off to their deaths and messing with them? You can’t blame yourselves for that. Devin’s a great example of what I mean. Yeah, he’s the Pooka, but he’s good. He doesn’t do anything harmful—okay, he doesn’t kill people like some of the previous Pookas did,” I said. “Devin isn’t responsible for what his ancestors did. You guys aren’t responsible either.”

  “Miss Fae,” Harrison said, just outside the room.

  “What?”

  “Get back,” Harrison said.

  “Why? What’s—” I stopped talking when I looked past him.

  Because we were talking and moving like normal in the fairy castle room, I hadn’t noticed anything different. But the exhibits leading up to Colleen Moore’s Fairy Castle were graveyard silent.

  It wasn’t that we were alone. Oh no. There were people still there, in the middle of reading, caught mid sneeze, chasing after their kid or friends, but they were stationary. None of our fellow museum attendees moved. It was like they were replaced with statues.

  6

  Supervillain Krad Temero

  “Time ghosts,” Frey called to our group, steering me into the middle of my students. “Use anything you have on hand. Don’t worry about blowing our cover—we have to make it through this.”

  “G-ghosts? Y-you guys said they don’t exist,” I said as Madeline grimly dug a cast-iron skillet out of her backpack.

  “Ghosts—spirits-of-the-dead-ghosts—don’t exist,” Asahi said, ripping three necklaces from his throat. “Time ghosts are a malevolent kind of fairy.”

  “What?” I said.

  “They use their glamours to look like those deceased, but their real power lies in their ability to stop and slow time,” Zinnia said.

  “Ever hear of Rip Van Winkle? He played with time ghosts,” Frey said before ducking behind the fairy castle. When he reappeared he was a white wolf.

  “But the story says he played with ghosts,” I protested.

  “Yeah, time ghosts,” Madeline savagely said.

  “Why haven’t I seen any of these guys before?”

  “They’re a rotten bunch. Evil to their very cores. None of them would associate with the MBRC,” Oak said.

  “Nor would the MBRC have them,” Kadri said digging several daggers from under the pant legs of her jeans. “Not even the unseelie court will make an alliance with them. They get their magic from dark sources.”

  I watched and wondered how my students were able to smuggle so many contraband items through the museum security as Harrison whispered into his mic and listened on his ear piece.

  Doggy stirred at my feet. He bristled and starting growling.

  “Harrison,” I said, my throat tightening when I saw the first time ghost appear.

  It was humanoid the way elves and fairies resemble humans. It had the same structure as a human, but it was slightly opaque—as if its physical presence wasn’t that strong. Its facial features were smudged—like a watercolor painting—and it wore nondescript, watery-gray robes.

  No wonder people mistook them for ghosts.

  Six more time ghosts appeared, flickering into view as if they were stepping into this dimension. They made a half circle around the exhibit entrance, ignoring Frank and Frey—who were our first line of d
efense in their wolf bodies.

  The seven time ghosts raised their hands in slow synchronization, and Harrison stepped forward.

  “You don’t want to do that,” he said, his sunglasses off. “You’ve just realized you can’t use your powers here. You want to flee, and you will after you release your time hold on this museum,” Harrison said.

  The time ghosts paused. They dropped their hands and looked at one another. They turned to look at the frozen humans when someone emerged from the room of statues and clapped.

  “Well done. I could recognize that work anywhere. There aren’t many goblins who could persuade so many magical beings—much less time ghosts. Harrison the Undaunted, is it?” the emerging person said.

  His skin was an ashy gray color and his long but colorless hair was cut at a sharp, jagged angle. His face would have made him a cutie, but he had a puckered scar that tore down through his eyebrow and eye and stopped halfway down his cheek. His eyes were an unnerving black color.

  “Dökkàlfar,” Sacmis whispered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Dark elf,” Madeline said, strengthening her grip on her pan. “That is Krad Temero of Fidem.”

  “Wait…he’s the bad guy you’ve all been warning me about?” I said, shell-shocked.

  “Yes,” Kadri said, shifting so she could better hold her daggers.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s, like, ten years old!” I said.

  Normally I would say our attacker’s unhealthy skin color and black eyes would make him unnerving to behold. There was just one problem. This evil mastermind clearly belonged in elementary school. Seriously, he didn’t even come up to my shoulders height wise, and I am not a tall person. His boots were too big for him, and his black jacket had the sleeves rolled up so his thin hands could poke out. He looked like he was playing dress up with his dad’s clothes.

  The kid glared at me, as if I was a teacher handing out homework. “Silence!” he thundered.

  “Shut up, squirt,” I said to him over Doggy’s growls. “The MBRC is petrified of a snot-nosed brat? Are you kidding me?” I asked Madeline.

  “If you recognize the name Krad, can I assume Devin spoke to you about him?” Madeline asked, her voice tight.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Squirt?” the dark elf brat said, his high pitched voice loud and piercing. “You speak to me like a child?”

  “That’s because you are a child.”

  “Morgan,” Madeline said, her voice artificially light. “Did Devin happen to mention that Krad Temero was cursed?”

  I thought for a moment as the snotty elf screamed in anger in the background. “Maybe.”

  “Did he explain the nature of the curse?”

  “No.”

  “He was cursed to the body of a child.”

  “So…he’s older than he looks?”

  “Much older. Krad Temero is an ancient fiend—or he wouldn’t be a Fidem captain.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “You,” Krad said, pointing to me. His face was twisted in anger. “You will pay for your careless words.”

  “Timeout. I don’t believe you,” I said. “He’s not old. He has to be a kid.”

  “What?” Asahi blinked.

  Frey growled and snapped at me.

  “There’s no way an ancient elf would say something like ‘you will pay for this’. Clearly this brat has read too many comic books,” I said.

  In spite of my disbelief, Harrison seemed to take him as a serious threat. His eyes flickered from the dark elf to the time ghosts.

  Dave nervously laughed. “Miss Morgan, I don’t think you understand what sort of situation we’re in,” he said.

  “I totally understand what’s going on. The MBRC is afraid of an elementary schooler,” I said.

  “ENOUGH!” the dark elf shouted. His scream made some color bloom on his cheeks. When he was finished he smoothed his hair and cleared his throat.

  “Someone’s touchy about their age—” I got out before Madeline clamped her hand over my mouth.

  Krad-the-kid didn’t seem to hear my remark. His attention was on Harrison. “I see where you are looking, Harrison the Undaunted. No, you can’t keep them under your thumb and try to persuade me as well,” the brat said, his features drawn into the same smug little smile my youngest brother uses when he’s about to get me in trouble.

  Harrison flattened his lips. Instead of attempting to persuade the smart-mouthed snot otherwise, Harrison threw his arms out in front of him and pushed.

  A wall of light flashed, rushing forward like a tsunami wave. When it reached the dark elf it exploded, making a screen of smoke and steam. Ahh yes. The so called rudimentary magic of goblins.

  I was afraid the smoke would set off the museum fire alarms, but either its magical properties stopped it, or the fact that most of the museum was frozen in time disabled the alarms. When it finally faded the dark elf brat stood there with his hands in his pockets.

  “That was a disappointing effort,” the dark elf said.

  His ability to survive Harrison’s magic made me start to rethink my evaluation of him.

  “What do you want?” Madeline said, letting go of me and pushing her way to the front of the group.

  “Simple. I want the human parasite standing in the middle of your motley crew. Hand her over, and I will leave,” the dark elf kid said. “No dirty tricks, no fights.”

  “Sorry, kid. I don’t do the cougar thing,” I said, reeling Doggy in so he wouldn’t trip anyone.

  I yelped when Esmeralda took up Madeline’s post and slapped her hand over my mouth.

  The dark elf brat narrowed his eyes at me, but the meaning of the term ‘cougar’ must have escaped him since he didn’t throw a temper tantrum.

  “I will cease to walk on this earth before I would give Morgan over to the likes of you, Krad Temero,” Madeline snarled.

  Even though she wore a neon pink dress, Madeline looked, for the first time since I met her, dangerous. Her eyes were narrowed, her pronounced canines poked out from behind her lips, and I felt force and power behind her words.

  “I see you treat me with the proper due contempt and respect. I shouldn’t have expected less from you, Madeline Stafford. Even so, your answer is unacceptable. If you will not hand the human over, I will be forced to school you foolish whelps.”

  “So what, now he’s British on top of being ten? Yeah, he’s also seen too many superhero movies. All the bad guys are British. But it doesn’t work anyway. He has an American accent,” I said, my voice muffled by Esmeralda’s hand.

  “Harrison, hold the time ghosts and guard Morgan,” Madeline said as Frank and Frey howled and snarled with raised hackles. “Corn, Sage, Zinnia, Oak. Ready?”

  “Ready!”

  “Go!” Madeline shouted.

  Frank and Fray jumped Krad. They bounced off a shadow black shield that surrounded Krad like a fortress, and tumbled head over paws.

  Madeline ducked, and the three fairies and wood elf released a charge of their combined magic. It was shaped like a huge, curling vine. It wrapped around Krad’s shield and pulled tight, making the shield’s surface crackle.

  Krad spoke a word that made a noise like a thunderclap boom over our heads before black electricity shot up and down the length of the vine. The vine wilted and eventually turned brown and died, unable to survive the onslaught.

  Kadri threw two of her daggers—which hit the shield and stuck there as if they were buried in a wood wall. Asahi took one of the necklaces he tore off himself and threw it at Krad.

  It exploded in a ball of white-hot fire that blackened the walls and singed Frey’s tail since he was too slow to scramble out of the way.

  When I was finally able to see again—the fire ball blinded me for several moments—Krad’s shield was still in place, no worse for the wear.

  As I watched my students attack Krad and fail, I realized I had underestimated the dark elf. Panic started to build in me as I watched Sacmis�
�her glamour removed, pounce at Krad with a roar. Though Krad looked like a kid, he had to be incredibly powerful to rebuff all my students.

  Sacmis didn’t even touch Krad’s shield. The dark elf raised two fingers, and Sacmis was yanked backwards as if someone dragged her by her lion tail.

  Athena and Perseus were huddled together, texting like crazy. Dave crouched next to Madeline. The two vampires spoke in spite of the chaos happening above and around them.

  Corn, Sage, Zinnia, and Oak redoubled their efforts, this time circling Krad’s shield with red bushes laced with thorns. The bushes groaned as they tightened around the shield, but, just like the vine, when Krad’s black lightning hit them they shriveled and died.

  Frey and Frank tried jumping Krad’s back, but they still bounced off the shield with sharp yips of pain.

  “This is what exposure to humanity has done to our great society. It has caused us to grow soft,” Krad said, folding his arms across his thin chest.

  My heart pounded in my throat as Krad stepped forward, his shield moving with him like his over-sized jacket. “None of you are remotely capable of—” he was cut off when Madeline stepped forward and swung her cast-iron skillet.

  Unlike every other thing my students had thrown at the dark elf, the skillet passed through the shield, connecting with Krad’s skull with a sickening crunch.

  Krad fell backwards, collapsing like a ragdoll.

  Madeline wound her skillet up again, preparing to take a swing at Krad like a professional golfer, but Krad shot a bolt of his black electricity at her, sending her flying through the air.

  Sacmis tried to catch her, but the force of the bolt slammed both of them into the case that covered the fairy castle.

  When Krad stood the circular edge of Madeline’s skillet was burned into his skin. He glared, the vehemence of the look made him appear more demonic than childish.

  “Are you proud?” he snarled. “Your celebration is too early. I have not even begun to use my powers,” Krad said before turning his eyes on me.

  He extended his hand and spoke in that booming language. After another thunderclap, I felt hundreds of invisible spiders crawl across my skin, creep up and down my arms and legs, and scurry across the nape of my neck.