by E. D. Baker
“I think I heard about her,” said Jak. “Is she the one who can throw lightning bolts?”
“We’re not sure what she can do, but yes, there is a rumor going around that she can. You’re to meet the girl, get to know her, then bring her back with you once you’ve earned her trust. Do you think you can handle that?”
“It sounds simple enough,” said Jak.
“You’ll have a private tutor who can teach you everything you need to know before you go. I want you to study humans and learn how to act like one.”
“If it would help you,” Jak said.
“Remember, it’s important that she feel safe with you. We don’t know what she’s capable of doing, but on the chance that she can control lightning, you won’t want to upset her.”
“Why do you want her here, Uncle, if she’s so dangerous?”
“It’s been nearly four years in the human world since the Halloween when the girl saw our goblins. Everything indicates that all the Gates will open during the next Halloween and the human world will be flooded with the fey. We can’t have that girl seeing them, Jak. Who knows what kind of trouble she could stir up if she were to tell someone?”
“Wouldn’t they think she was crazy?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Believe me when I say that we can’t take the chance.”
It occurred to Jak that his uncle wasn’t telling him everything. Instead of looking worried, he looked eager, as if he’d gotten the scent of a particularly tempting prey. Even so, Targin was right when he said that the girl would have to be handled with care if she actually could call up lightning. As far as Jak knew, the only person who could control the weather was Titania, the queen of the fairies, and no one wanted to cross her. If his uncle wanted the girl, perhaps it was because she could control the weather. Befriending someone like that would only help Targin in his position as a leader of the goblins.
Whatever the reason might be, Jak would do his best to get the girl. Since the day Jak’s mother had abandoned him at his uncle’s cave, the halfling boy had been in awe of the goblin who had taken him in. His uncle had given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Now Jak felt honored to be given such an important assignment. At last he might be able to do something to make his uncle proud of him.
Even as a small child Jak had known that his uncle was an important goblin in the land of the fey, not only as head of the Cattywampus clan, but also as a leader among all the goblins. He was often called away on goblin matters, but when he was home a steady flow of visitors came to see him. Sometimes they came on clan business, wanting to discuss land rights or trading agreements or to have Targin settle a dispute. There were times, however, when goblins arrived claiming to want to play dice and drink a few ales, only Jak knew better. He would get very little sleep on those nights, because his room was only a few doors down from the one where they met, and he often heard them talking in louder and louder voices as the night wore on and they drank more and more ale. The pattern became predictable. What started out in friendly tones became tirades against the fairies’ repressive laws and how good life was before the fairies conquered all of goblin-kind.
“Remember how the trolls put up signs for a hotel one day, then served dinner the next? Everyone knew they were serving roast travelers for dinner; you couldn’t get a table at all, the place was that popular!”
“Why, I remember when a goblin could terrorize an entire human village for a month, then go on to the next town and no one was around to stop him!”
“If it wasn’t for the blasted fairies we’d still be at it! The stories my grandfather told could make your skin crawl and your heart proud.”
“Ah, the old bedtime stories! Those were the days.”
“It’s all Titania’s fault. If she and Oberon hadn’t made their peace, none of this would have happened. They never would have gotten such a strong army, nor so many magic users on their side.”
“We were a proud, free folk until Titania and Oberon led their armies to defeat us in battle,” Targin would say. “It’s been many years now, but there isn’t a goblin alive who wouldn’t like to see us free again. The day is coming when that chance will present itself, and there are those of us who will be ready to take it. And that, my goblin friends, is why I invited you here.” It was what Jak was waiting for, because after that their voices would get quiet and he could finally go to sleep.
Wulfrin, the leader of the wolf clan, had been one of the more frequent visitors to stay late into the night. Lurinda, however, was another story. Jak had learned about her from Gammi, who had Lurinda’s picture on the wall of her room. Now, having finally met his great-aunt, Jak tried to remember everything he’d heard about her.
Gammi had looked up to her older sister, who had been smart, beautiful, and the most likely of all her siblings to get into trouble. Shortly after Lurinda finished her studies on the island, the fairy queen’s guards had come to get her. Like all the fey under fairy rule, each goblin clan had to send representatives to serve the queen.
“Hostages,” Uncle Targin called them.
“Honored,” his grandmother said.
Every few months Gammi had received a letter from Lurinda and they always said the same things—she was happy, she loved her job, and the queen was wonderful.
“She’s content,” Gammi always said. “She’s living the life most goblin girls would envy.”
“She’s lying,” Targin always replied. “She knows that the queen’s guards read all the mail before it leaves the Old Forest.”
Even when she wasn’t around, Lurinda had stirred up controversy in the family den. Jak wondered what would happen now that she was actually there.
Chapter 12
Over the next few months, Jak didn’t have one tutor, he had several. They had all lived in the human world for extended periods of time and knew more about humans than most goblins. The first one was a member of the rat clan who had lived in the sewer across from a library in the human world. He told Jak about the library and how it was filled with books.
“Did you read them all?” asked Jak.
“Read? Fft! I not read! Heard you do. Here,” he said, dumping a pile of shiny, colorful books on the table in front of Jak. “Learn more about human world from these than from musty, dusty books.”
As Jak flipped through the books, he saw that they were actually catalogs and were filled with pictures of clothes, gardening supplies, and kitchen tools. Jak liked the catalogs because they made him look at humans in a new way, but he found a lot of the items confusing. When Jak finished reading, he had more questions than answers, but the tutor replied, “I not know” until he got tired of saying it. Jak never saw him again.
The next tutor was a ferret goblin who showed Jak pictures of everyday objects that he would see in the human world. Although the tutor could name them and say what he saw humans using them for, he had no idea how they worked.
The last tutor came the day after Jak’s fifteenth birthday and just a few days before he was to leave for the human world. His name was Bert, and he was Bruno and Barth’s older brother. Like the twins, he had bearlike features, small ears perched on top of his head, and ferocious-looking teeth, but his features weren’t as pronounced, his bushy hair covered his ears, and a mustache and beard covered his mouth and chin. As a result, he looked more human than his brothers.
The goblin was there to teach Jak how to behave more like a human and less like a goblin. “You move like a cat,” said Bert. “Humans aren’t that graceful. Watch me.”
Jak tried to imitate his tutor’s lumbering gait. Although Bert didn’t walk exactly like a human, copying him did make Jak look less goblinlike. Bert also showed him how to sit with one leg crossed with his ankle resting on his knee like a man, how to clap his hands when he was pleased, and to hold up one finger when he wasn’t. He showed him how to wave good-bye and hello, to snap his fingers when he wanted something, and to hold his nose when he didn’t.
Over the days they
were working together, Jak and Bert became good friends. Only hours before Jak was supposed to leave he learned that Bert would be going with him. Gammi had volunteered to go as well, saying that Jak wasn’t ready to go out into the big world all by himself, whether fey or human. It would help that she had spent some time in the human world.
The house looked neglected with the grass growing knee-high in the yard, the shutters falling off the windows, and the uneven floorboards on the porch. Gammi and Bert thought the house looked perfect. Gammi swore that she felt as if she’d come home. Bert was the first one inside, saying that he had to make sure it was safe for the others. The bear goblin immediately claimed the basement for himself, leaving the top two floors for Jak and Gammi.
While Bert thumped around downstairs, Jak and Gammi investigated the kitchen. Gammi was opening kitchen cupboards when Bert came up the steps to see what they were doing. He and Jak went into the living room and sat on the dilapidated furniture that had been left behind. They flicked the light switch in the dining room, making the lights hanging from the ceiling go on and off until one of the lights went out with a pop! When they reached the bathroom, they learned how to turn on the faucet. After they flooded the room, they also learned how to turn it off. Jak used the couch cushions from the living room to soak up the water.
Gammi was inspecting the still-wet bathroom and Jak was wondering what he should do with the cushions when Bert returned to the basement. He came back a short time later carrying an armload of cans and dumped them on the kitchen table. “See what I found,” he said, looking proud of himself. “They were on a shelf in a little room. I think they have food in them.”
Jak selected one of the cans and studied the picture of fresh tomatoes. “How do we open it?” he asked.
“That’s easy.” Bert picked up another can and squeezed it until his face turned red. The can got smaller in the middle, but it didn’t open. “Maybe if I do this,” he said, and hit it against the table. The can got dented, but it didn’t open. Bert growled at the can as if it were purposely defying him. Holding it up to his mouth, the bear goblin bit the top of the can. When liquid spurted out, he got a funny look on his face. “My tooth ith thtuck,” he said, trying to tug the can free.
“Pull harder,” said Gammi, who had just come into the room.
“I don’t want to pull out my tooth!” mumbled the bear.
“Then I’ll do it,” said the old goblin woman. Grabbing the can, she pulled on it until it came free. She raised the can to her mouth and sucked noisily, then smacked her lips and said, “Rotting cabbage!”
“It’s called sauerkraut,” said Jak, reading the label on the can.
When they had finished inspecting the first floor, Jak helped his grandmother up the stairs and encouraged her to choose a room. The old goblin woman examined every one before making her choice; she wanted the room that overlooked the backyard, where she could see the two trees that defined the local Gate to the land of the fey, the real reason the house had been selected.
Although it was night in the human world, they were still on goblin time, so neither Jak nor his grandmother was ready for bed. When Jak discovered the ladder to the attic, Gammi insisted on going with him, so she was there when he found the cartons. The old couple who had lived in the house had been unable to throw away anything. Jak found a treasure trove of human life and a better education than he’d received from any of his tutors.
While Gammi sat on the floor, Jak brought out one carton at a time, opening them in front of her so they could exclaim over them together. They found old clothes, tattered magazines, ice skates, roller skates, shoes, umbrellas, broken toasters, broken Crock-Pots, broken lamps, used hardware, rusty tools, and children’s toys, most of which were missing parts. They found the old mattresses and springs from six beds and enough blankets for a dozen. Gammi seemed to think that all the boxes were equally important, but Jak was most interested in the heaviest boxes that contained the books. There were books of every size and shape, books for children and adults, books with pictures and without. To Jak every book was a wonder. While Gammi sorted the clothes to find something she could wear, Jak thumbed through the books, reading bits and pieces. After looking at the pages, he examined the bindings, sniffing the musty smell of stored knowledge. He had such a look of reverent awe on his face that Gammi finally said, “If you want them, take them, boy. You’re the only one who can read in this house.”
It took Jak most of the rest of the night to lug the cartons of books down the stairs to his bedroom. When he was finished, he began going through them again and was mesmerized until his grandmother came to him saying, “Now, that’s enough of that! We have work to do, so no more playing. Didn’t you notice the sun’s up? Come downstairs for breakfast; then you should be on your way. I just hope there’s something left to eat,” she grumbled as she started down the stairs. “Bert can tuck away enough for five goblins.”
When Jak arrived downstairs, it was obvious that Gammi had been busy. She’d taken a load of the clothes from the attic and washed them in the kitchen sink. They were already hanging on the curtain rods in the living room, dripping onto the hardwood floor. She’d found a way to open the cans and had emptied them into a pot while Bert, who could smell food from two miles away, had come back upstairs and been talked into figuring out how to work the stove. After burning his fingers and singeing his beard, Bert got the stove turned on, which pleased both him and Gammi immensely.
The new “family” sat around the linoleum-covered kitchen table, eating directly from the pot. Gammi’s soup had an odd flavor, having been made from cans of sauerkraut, peas, pears, cranberries, tuna, and cocktail franks in barbecue sauce, but they were hungry and enjoyed it anyway.
“Are you ready for school, Jak?” asked Gammi, “They’ll probably ask you all sorts of questions when you go sign up.”
“I can handle anything they throw at me. Don’t forget, I took a lot of extra classes on the island. I doubt they teach anything in this school that I haven’t heard before.”
Bert wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “When I lived on the island, I studied The Fine Arts of Coercion and Trickery, and Throwing Your Voice to Intimidate Your Enemy from a Distance. Do the elders still teach those?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t take either of them,” Jak said.
Bert picked up a bowl of water and slurped it loudly while a strangled voice shouted in the next room, “Put up your hands and throw down your arms!”
“Very good!” said Gammi. “I thought someone was there for a moment. I’m confused though. Why would you want your enemy to put his hands up and his arms down?”
“By arms he means weapons,” Jak explained to his grandmother. Then he turned back to Bert saying, “But wouldn’t you want him to throw down his arms first?”
“Could be,” said Bert. “I never did well in strategy lessons.”
When he’d finished eating, Jak went upstairs to change his clothes. He’d studied the catalogs that his tutor had brought, and he’d seen humans when he went to Halloween with his class, so he thought he had a pretty good idea of what humans wore. He’d found some clothes in the attic and put on the ones he thought would be the best for school and set off down the street. Unfortunately, when he walked through the front door of the school, he saw just how much the blue satin athletic shorts, gray pinstriped jacket, and green plaid shirt didn’t belong.
The first student who saw him stood gaping in disbelief. When the next two did the same, Jak knew he had to do something. He disappeared into the janitor’s closet and with a little of his own personal magic, he was wearing khakis and a shirt much like theirs when he came out.
Headmaster Serling’s office was the most luxurious room Jak had ever seen. He had a deep red carpet with golden swirls on his floor and long velvet drapes on his windows. Portraits of old humans decorated the walls along with photographs of the headmaster and a lot of smug-looking human men and women. When his secretary showed Jak into the room, the
headmaster was looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back.
“I understand that you want to attend our school,” he said without turning around. “You realize, of course, that Worthington is a highly respected institution and we require much of our students. Because we provide the finest of educations, we are inundated with applications.”
While Jak listened to the man prattle, he let his gaze wander around the room. The two high-backed chairs facing the headmaster’s desk looked inviting, and when he raised his head and sniffed, he could smell them from where he stood. Approaching the closest chair, he ran his fingers along the arm. It was made from the hide of an animal.
“Therefore, we must be highly selective in our acceptance procedures,” said Headmaster Serling. “In order to be accepted, you must pass a stringent exam, provided that we have an opening in the class for which you are applying. What grade are you in, Mr. … I don’t believe I heard your last name.”
“Catta …” Jak flinched. He’d almost given himself away by telling the human his clan affiliation. “I’m Jak Catta.”
Headmaster Serling took the seat behind the desk and gestured for Jak to take the one across from him.
“I’m fifteen years old,” said Jak as he curled up on the chair. “I’m in the grade for fifteen-year-olds.”
“I see,” said Headmaster Serling, although he looked as if he didn’t like what he saw. He was watching Jak with a most curious expression when he set his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “I’m sorry to tell you, Mr. Catta, that we have no openings in the ‘fifteen-year-old grade.’ “
“But I need to start school today,” Jak said.
“That won’t be possible,” said the headmaster. “You may see my secretary on the way out. She’ll be happy to give you an application. However, in all honesty I must say that chances are slim that there will be any openings in the foreseeable future. Even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to start until the beginning of the next semester.”