by Jim Hines
Tamora turned onto her side and looked over to where Karina rested in a nest of clean laundry. They were a bizarre team, but she felt better having them here.
The next thing Tamora knew, the sound of the front door opening jolted her awake.
“It’s me,” Dad called.
Tamora rubbed her eyes and climbed out of bed. Smoosh was scratching at the door. A glance at her phone showed it wasn’t quite six in the morning. “It’s too early, furball,” Tamora mumbled as she opened the door. “You don’t get fed until—”
Smoosh bolted between her legs, making a line directly toward Karina. He stopped in front of the sleeping peahen, arched his back, and growled.
Karina opened her eyes just in time to receive a machine-gun thwapping to the head from Smoosh’s front paw.
She stood, spread her wings, and let out a deafening maow.
Terrified, Smoosh vanished out the door, dribbling urine in his wake.
“You are such a dork,” Tamora called after him as she went to fetch paper towels. On the bright side, she no longer had to worry about waking the rest of the team. Karina had probably roused half the block.
Dad waited for her to finish cleaning up and wash her hands before pulling her into a tight hug. “Are you sure you won’t stay here with Mac?”
“Mac’s staying?”
He made a face. “No, but I was hoping if you stayed, he might change his mind. I’d feel better if you and your brother were safe.”
“Ms. Anna knows where we live,” said Tamora. “We have to stop her, and the safest way to do that is together. All of us watching each other’s backs.”
“I figured you’d say something like that.” He looked her up and down. “I’m proud of you, Tamora Soo-jin Carter.”
She flushed. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“You got it.” Tamora smirked. “Queen’s honor.”
“I’m never going to hear the end of this queen business, am I?”
“Nope.”
“All right, then. Let’s get the rest of your subjects and save your friends.”
* * *
Tamora hastily fed the animals while Dad grabbed food for the humans and humanoids. Mac needed his toaster waffles with syrup. Gulk insisted on more “pup tarts,” and was reduced to a puddle of gibbering joy when he discovered the s’mores-flavored ones.
Karina seemed content to munch on a bowl of Woodstock’s dried peas. As for the pix, she said she’d hunted during the night. Nobody asked her what she’d hunted.
The moving truck only had two seats. Dad, Mac, and Vernors rode in the cab, while Tamora, Gulk, and Karina took the back. Tamora kept Karina in her lap for safety. The peahen was surprisingly heavy. Tamora kept nervously stroking the feathers of Karina’s back. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t pulled away or tried to peck Tamora’s hand yet.
The single light in back was as weak as a night light, but it was better than nothing. Gulk kept moving about to tap the metal walls and floor. “Strong carriage. Good armor.” The truck took a sharp corner. Gulk tumbled over Tamora’s equipment bag and fell. He rubbed his head. “Hard floor.”
At a little past seven, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires signaled their arrival. The truck drew to a stop.
“Gulk, stay here.” Tamora moved toward the sliding door at the back, then turned around. “And don’t eat Karina.”
Dad raised the back door. Tamora jumped out and quickly pulled it shut behind her so nobody would see their extra passengers.
A yellow wooden arm blocked their way. To the right was a small booth. A man in a worn blue jumpsuit stepped out, pointing to the “Closed” sign in the booth window.
“I know you don’t open until seven-thirty,” Dad began, “but I thought—”
“We’re closed indefinitely,” the man interrupted. “You’ll have to come back when we reopen.”
“When?” asked Dad.
“Your guess is good as mine.” He shook his head. “We got some kind of infestation. Killer bees, maybe. Buddy of mine got stung two days ago and collapsed on the spot. Didn’t wake up for hours. We had to call an ambulance.”
“Killer bees don’t knock people out.” Mac alternated between typing and holding his nose to block the smells of old rubber, oil, mud, and rust. “They kill by swarming.”
Tamora tugged Mac’s arm to get his attention, then shook her head. What the man described sounded like pix defending their new home. If he thought it was killer bees, that was probably better for everyone.
“Well, whatever’s back there, I can’t let anyone in,” said the man. “The township sent an inspector over yesterday, but she got stung too. They’re talking about bringing in a crew of exterminators to fumigate the whole area.”
“You can’t,” Tamora blurted out.
“If it’s so dangerous, why are you here?” asked Dad, shooting her a warning look.
“Whatever they are, they keep to the back of the yard,” he answered. “I’m just here to send people on their way. If you want to leave your name and number, we can call you back when we’ve got the place cleaned…”
His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed. A small arrow protruded from his right butt cheek.
“Exterminators, my arse!” Vernors shouldered her bow and flew down from atop the booth.
“You didn’t have to shoot him.” Dad knelt to check the man’s vitals. “The arrow, is it barbed?”
“Nah. The heads are etched copper. The corrosion creates wee pockets in the metal to hold blackthorn sap. It’s the sap that puts folk to sleep, you see.”
Dad was already pulling the arrow free. “Will he be all right?”
“Aye, aside from a welt on his backside. Maybe one in a hundred times someone’ll have an unfortunate reaction to the blackthorn, but if he was one of those unlucky souls, he’d be spitting bloody foam by now.”
Dad handed the arrow back to the pix. His lips were tight and his forehead wrinkled the way it did when he was mad, but he didn’t say anything. He picked up the man and carried him into the booth. A minute later, the wooden arm swung up.
“Which way to the pix and goblins?” he asked when he emerged.
Vernors pointed. “Toward the back, away from the road.”
Tamora unzipped her equipment bag and pulled on her pads as they drove along the dirt road. They kept the back of the truck open.
Scrapped cars and trucks filled the junkyard, hundreds of them all crammed together like the world’s most messed-up parking lot. They also passed piles of old tires, busted appliances like washers and dryers and refrigerators, and beat-up bicycles.
Eventually, Dad stopped the truck and climbed out. “Mac, stay here. Karina too. Tamora—”
“I’m coming.” She fastened her helmet’s chin strap and jumped down before he could argue.
Vernors took the lead, flying along at waist height. Gulk kept behind the humans.
Judging from the amount of rust, most of these cars had been here a long time. Several had weeds, even small saplings growing through them.
“There. Home.” Gulk pointed to an old hollowed-out school bus. Most of the yellow paint had flaked away or been lost to rust, and only two of the glass windows remained intact.
A loud buzzing erupted from the shell of a Volkswagen Beetle. Three pix emerged, bows ready. Unlike the pop can-wearing pix Tamora had seen so far, these had scrounged armor from the junk at hand. One wore a hammered red coffee can, probably stolen from the booth at the entrance. The second had donned bits of old copper and PVC pipe, while the third wore scraps of leather seat covers woven into thick, if mismatched, armor.
“Hold,” shouted Vernors. “I said hold, you bug-brained rascals!”
“Who’s this?” demanded the one in leather.
Vernors gestured at Tamora. “Go on, then. Tell ’em.”
“I’m…my name is Tamora Carter. I know where you come from, and why you’re here. I know what the Elf Que
en plans to do. I need your help to stop her.”
Goblin heads popped up from inside the bus to stare.
“This Queen Tamora!” shouted Gulk.
One of the goblins threw a rock into the dirt at Tamora’s feet. “Jolluk remember her. She tried to feed goblins to giant furry dog-beast!”
“Appa wouldn’t have eaten any of you,” Tamora argued. “And you threatened to eat me first!”
Dad’s hand grasped her shoulder. In a low voice meant only for Tamora, he said, “You forgot to mention that part.”
Tamora gave him an apologetic shrug.
“Humans want to kill goblins,” shouted Jolluk.
“And pix,” added the pix in the coffee armor.
“That’s what the elves want,” Tamora said. “They’re going to kill humans too. I want to stop them!”
More goblins climbed over their fellows to watch through the bus windows. There had to be at least forty goblins crammed in there. Others peered from the skeletal remnants of old, forgotten vehicles.
Tamora stepped closer to the bus. Her mouth had gone dry, making it difficult to project loud enough for everyone to hear. “There’s an elf living here in Grand River. She’s guarding the portal. The last goblins who tried to come through, she turned them to glass. But if we can overpower her, we can use her to get through the portal ourselves. We can bring the humans home and stop the prophecy.”
“Can’t stop prophecy,” said a goblin. “It’s prophecy!”
“It’s a lie,” she snapped. “The elves made it up to scare you. To make you give up hope. They’ve been planning it since before you were born.”
“Let ’em have that world,” said one of the pix. “This one’s bigger anyway.”
“You think the elves will leave you alone here?” demanded Tamora. “They’ve already sent a dragon to hunt for you.”
“Big dragon,” added Gulk. “Very smelly.”
In a louder voice, she said, “We beat the dragon.”
“Say we do manage to beat this elf and bring your human friends home,” shouted the pix in copper and PVC. “What good does that do us? The Elf Queen and the Dead King’ll keep fighting, and the rest of us’ll keep dying.”
“The elves created the prophecy to break your spirits, and it sounds like it’s working. This is your chance to turn things around. To inspire the rest of your people back home.”
From the sneers and murmurs spreading through the bus and elsewhere, she wasn’t reaching them. What else could goblins possibly want? She glanced down at Gulk, who was licking the inside of a silver foil Pop Tart wrapper.
Tamora squared her shoulders and approached the bus. “Also, if you help us fight, I’ll buy pizza for everyone.”
“What’s pizza?” asked another goblin.
“Bread and cheese and sauce and meat, baked hot.” She glanced at Gulk. “You’ll get pizza, and also Pop Tarts.”
“Pup tarts!” Gulk squealed and ran to the bus, waving the wrapper like a flag. “Magic bread with jam inside!”
Tamora smiled. “Pizza and Pop Tarts for the goblins, as payment from your queen.”
Dad raised an eyebrow. “Payment from who?”
“Payment from your queen and her father, keeper of the royal credit card.” She gave him an apologetic look and added a quiet, “Please?”
“What about us?” asked one of the pix. “We don’t need help finding food.
“Food, no.” Tamora’s mind raced. “What about drink?”
“Thus far, we’ve been unimpressed with human drink,” said Vernors.
“This drink is strong enough to lay out a goblin,” Tamora continued, her voice growing stronger as she got into the role. “Drink to wake the body and fuel the blood. Help us, and I will present you with the dew of the mountains.”
“Tempting,” said the other pix. “But how do we know this ‘mountain dew’ is everything you claim?”
“If it’s not—” Tamora hesitated.
“Then I’ll take you all for a shopping spree at the hardware store,” Dad jumped in. “That armor you’ve cobbled together isn’t bad, but I imagine you could work wonders with a bit of steel screen and some pipe from the plumbing section.”
“Mountain dew and shopping,” said a different pix.
“Done.” Dad’s mouth curved into a smile. “Assuming the bargain is acceptable to the queen?”
“Thanks, Dad.” Tamora had her army. She hoped it would be enough.
Chapter 16: Ms. Anna
Tamora rode in back of the truck again, but this time, she was packed tight with goblins and pix, as well as one very unhappy peahen. Most of the pix clung to the thick rubber bumpers that lined the upper walls to protect furniture and other contents during transport. She gripped an old wooden bat she’d taken from the garage, though she hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.
Her cellphone went off, drawing suspicious glares from nearby goblins. Her roller derby pads pinched her skin as she twisted to pull the phone from her pocket.
“No danger,” Gulk reassured them. “Queen Tamora has magic window box.”
Several goblins bumped heads to peer at the text on the screen.
Mac: What would the police would say if they pulled us over right now? :-)
She hunched her shoulders and replied.
Tamora: I almost wish they would. Goblins get gassy when they’re motion-sick.
Mac: LOL
Tamora switched to the map app on her phone to watch their progress through Grand River. They should be at Karina’s house in less than five minutes. Her thoughts scampered about, taunting her with all the things that could go wrong.
What if Ms. Anna’s magic was strong enough to fend off all of the goblins and pix? What if they couldn’t get the willow tree open? What if they were too late to save Andre? What if—
“Queen smells scared,” whispered Gulk. “Smells like fear-sweat.”
“I’m not scared.” She shoved the phone back into her pocket and wiped her palms on her jeans.
“Goblin warrior named Trok said same thing,” said Pukwuk. Her voice got deeper, mimicking that other warrior. “No fear! Goblins fight and win!” She snorted. “Trok dead now.”
“Frightened goblins are smart goblins,” said Gulk. “Queen smart like us.”
“Smart bein’ a relative term in this case,” added one of the pix, earning laughter from his companions.
Gulk leaned closer to whisper, “Pix smell like fear-sweat too.”
Tamora smiled. “Thanks, Gulk.”
The truck made another turn, then stopped. According to her phone, they’d pulled over about a block from Karina’s place. When Dad opened the back door, he started to speak, then coughed and staggered back, waving his hands in front of his nose. “Smells like something died in there.”
Tamora shoved her way out, along with Karina and roughly half of the twenty-one goblins and eighteen pix they’d brought from the junkyard. It wasn’t the hundred she’d hoped for, but the truck only had so much room.
Dad pulled her into a hug. “Mac’s going to stay in the truck with the flute. If this doesn’t work, he’ll go straight to the police.”
“Mac doesn’t know how to drive.”
“He knows enough to get away. I want you to do the same, okay? If this falls apart, you run.”
“All right.” Tamora took out her cellphone and earbuds, then grabbed Dad’s phone. It only took a moment to synch the wireless earbuds with his phone. He shoved one into his right ear and dropped the other into his shirt pocket. As long as Ms. Anna stayed on his left side, she shouldn’t notice.
Tamora gathered her goblins and pix and started hiking up the side of the road. She plugged Dad’s old earbuds into the jack on her phone and called him. “Can you hear me?”
“Yep. You?”
“Like you’re inside my head.” She looked back at her team. The goblins were armed with whatever scraps of metal they’d been able to find. Gulk had a rusted piece of bicycle frame. Pukwuk had the brea
d knife she’d taken from Andre’s house. The pix carried their bows and arrows. “Give my group five minutes to get into position. If Ms. Anna tries to escape, we’ll be ready.”
They ran between houses, heading for the river. Once there, Tamora turned right, running parallel to Coolridge Road. By the time they reached the trees behind the mansion, Karina was getting agitated, fluffing her feathers and skittering to and fro. How long had it been since Ms. Anna transformed her? How long did it take to start to forget your humanity?
Through the phone, she heard the moving truck come to a halt, followed by the slam of the door.
“I’m here,” whispered Dad. “I’ve got two of those pix things clinging to my back. The rest are flying into position around the door. The truck’s rear door is open, and the goblins are ready to charge on my signal.”
“Be careful.”
She heard him knock on the door. It opened a short time later.
“Hello,” said Ms. Anna. “It’s Scot, isn’t it? Tamora’s father?”
Tamora waved to her goblins and pix, and started up the hill toward the fence. With Ms. Anna at the front door, the camera out back no longer mattered. Even an elf couldn’t carry on a conversation and monitor a camera feed in another room at the same time. At least, Tamora hoped she couldn’t.
“That’s right,” Dad was saying. “Tam never came home last night.”
Tamora opened the gate. The goblins rushed through. The pix flew into place, hiding behind patio furniture to either side of the back door.
“Oh, no,” said Ms. Anna. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I haven’t seen her.”
“Liar,” Tamora muttered.
“I’ve been driving around for hours trying to find her.”
“In a moving van?”
“I was supposed to help a friend move today,” Dad said smoothly. He was a surprisingly good liar. “Is Karina around? Tamora might have said something to—”
“I’m afraid Karina’s visiting with her mother. She’ll be gone until the end of next week.”
Tamora pressed her back to the wall next to the door, her knuckles tight around the handle of her bat.