by E. D. Baker
Tamisin’s stomach growled.
“What was that?” asked Jak.
“I’m hungry. I didn’t eat much at dinner last night, and I didn’t eat anything at your party.” Tamisin opened her purse, pleased that she’d been able to keep it with her through everything that had happened to them. She rummaged around, taking out a hair clip and a bandanna before showing him a pack of mints, saying, “You wouldn’t happen to have food on you, would you? All I have are these breath mints and frankly, I don’t care what my breath smells like now.”
“Let me see those,” said Jak. Taking the mints, he slipped behind a rock. When he came back, the mints had become a handful of lemon cookies.
Tamisin gasped. “How’d you do that?” she asked.
“I have my ways,” Jak said, handing the cookies to her.
“So why are goblins after me?” Tamisin asked.
Jak looked away for a moment, then turned back to her and said, “They want you because you’re special. You can do things that most other people can’t.”
“Is it because I’m fey, too? I don’t know what I am, but you’ve seen my ears, and my spreckles,” she said, touching the sparkles on her cheek. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Yeah,” said Jak. “I think you’re part fairy.”
“A fairy!” she breathed. “That explains a lot! My ears and my wings …”
“You have wings?”
Tamisin frowned and turned away, making it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. She hadn’t meant to tell him about her wings, at least not until she knew if she could trust him. His revelation that he was half goblin had made her even more reluctant to give him her trust, although it hadn’t been as much of a surprise as it might have been. She had known that he was different since the day they met, she just hadn’t known how different.
They were rounding a boulder when she glanced down the length of the ridge and sighed. “I don’t suppose your uncle lives close enough that we’ll reach him sometime today?”
“We’re nowhere near his den,” said Jak. “It’ll be a few days before we get there.”
“I hope you’re about to tell me that there’s a hotel on the way.”
“There is an inn, but I don’t know if it would be a good idea to stay there. No one knows where we are now, but somebody is bound to notice us at an inn. All we need is for the goblins to hear about it and …”
“You mean we can’t attract attention. I can do that. We just won’t talk to anyone. I don’t want to sleep out in the open if there are things like trolls around.”
“I suppose you’re right,” said Jak. “I just wish we had another choice.”
Soon they were walking above the tops of the tallest trees, but it wasn’t long before the forests receeded on either side and the ridge descended into a cultivated land of pastures and hedgerows. Although they didn’t see any people, they eventually came across a sign that showed a squat building and the words GREEN BEETLE INN with an arrow pointing in the direction they were headed.
“I want to stay there,” Tamisin declared.
Chapter 17
Having learned at his Halloween party that Tamisin actually could control lightning, or at least summon it, Jak was even more nervous about escorting her through the fey countryside. As a person who’d proven to have real power, not only was she dangerous to be around, but she was valuable to all kinds of fey. And since those goblins at the party had seen what she could do, word was bound to have spread.
They were passing between two farmers’ fields when the first cat streaked through the hay to fall in step just behind them. Another arrived the moment they entered the forest, dropping down from a branch to land lightly on its feet and start off down the path in front of them.
It was nearly dark by then, but at the first curve in the forest Jak saw lights shining through the windows of a squat stone building with an oddly peaked roof. A picture of a large, emerald green beetle decorated a swinging sign above the door.
“Thank goodness,” said Tamisin. “I was afraid we wouldn’t reach it before nightfall.”
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” said Jak, but he wasn’t looking at Tamisin or the inn when he said it. The cats had stopped on the path directly in front of the inn and had turned to face him. With the fur on the arched spines of both cats bristling, their ears pinned back, and their tails lashing, Jak was sure they were trying to tell him something. “Maybe we should just …”
The door to the inn flew open behind the cats, revealing a manlike figure in the doorway. Wielding a broom, he darted out of the inn and swatted at the cats, chasing them off into the night. “Won’t you come in?” he asked, hustling Jak and Tamisin inside.
It took a moment for Jak’s eyes to adjust to the dim light filtering through the smoke from the fireplace, and so he was startled when a goblin appeared out of the shadows to greet them. His mottled scalp was hairless, and he had neither lashes nor eyebrows to soften the appearance of his bulging eyes. He wore dark moleskin pants and an apron over a brown shirt that was rolled up at the elbows, exposing big, muscular arms and little, short-fingered hands. Even before he spoke, the goblin flicked his tongue at each of them, tasting their scent.
“Bob, of the lizard clan, at your service,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to the Green Beetle Inn. I’m the proprietor. How many people in your party?”
“Just two,” said Jak.
The innkeeper grunted and turned to survey the room. Although it was early in the evening, it was already crowded. The only unoccupied table was near that of three old women dressed in gray who sat hunched in the corner by the fireplace. Jak could tell why no one had sat at the empty table when he saw that the smoke from the fireplace always blew in its direction. “Come along, sir,” said Bob as he threaded his way between the tables.
Jak was starting to follow when Tamisin grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Is he a goblin?” she whispered into his ear. When Jak nodded, she said, “Maybe you were right and we shouldn’t be here. If those other goblins were after me—”
Jak squeezed her hand. “We’re here and everyone in this room has already seen us. It wouldn’t do any good if we left now. Just let me do the talking and don’t let them see that you’re afraid. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
“If you’re sure …”
With Tamisin still holding his hand, Jak led the way to the table. They had no sooner taken their seats facing the hearth than she began to cough. “Did you want a smoking or nonsmoking table?” asked Bob.
“Nonsmoking, please,” Jak said, glancing at Tamisin.
“Ah,” Bob said. Taking a pinch of something from his pocket, he sprinkled it on the table. The smoke swirled and changed direction, heading into a six-inch hole in the center of the tabletop. Apparently the smoke had been coming from the table, not from the chimney. “Sorry about that. A fire elemental sat here last, and we all know how much they like smoke. Now, what will it be—a bite of supper or a good stout drink? We’re known for our bug juice. I make it fresh myself every day. Our most popular is the green beetle juice, though we also have cricket and wasp.”
“Just the supper, please,” said Jak.
Tamisin leaned toward the innkeeper. “Could we have a menu?”
Bob looked surprised. “What would we be doing with menus, I’d like to know? I can tell you what I’m serving, seeing as I cooked it. We have vegetable soup and some rattlesnake stew,” he said in a singsong voice.
Watercress salad with dressing of dew,
Fricasseed slugs with a green pepper slime,
A nice fresh puree of turtle and lime,
Skunk-cabbage rolls and some Mayapple pie,
Roasted pig snout and rhinoceros thigh,
Hair of the dog and the cat it dragged in,
Fresh rodent custard, with artichoke skin.
Tamisin was looking a little green, so Jak gave his order first. “I’ll have the rodent custard.”
&
nbsp; “Vegetable soup, please,” said Tamisin.
The innkeeper smiled, revealing sharply pointed teeth. “Very good. I made a vat of it yesterday. And what would you like to drink? If you don’t care for bug juice, we have ale—pale, dark, or sludge. We also have cow’s milk, rabbit’s milk, and mouse’s milk.”
“Water, please,” Jak said. “For both of us.”
“Spring, river, or rain? Clean or dirty?”
“We’d prefer the clean spring water.”
“There will be a five percent surcharge for that.”
As Bob left to fetch the order, Jak turned to see who else was there. Two other lizard goblins wearing aprons bustled about, serving food and taking orders. A group of leprechauns sat at a long table in the back of the room. Jak was watching them when a voice at the next table said, “It’s my turn!”
After glancing at the three women beside them, Jak found it difficult not to stare. With their gray hair, grayish complexions, and long, sad faces, they looked alike enough to be sisters. Two of the women had empty eye sockets, and the tallest had one red-rimmed eye through which she was warily watching the thinnest woman reach toward her face. “Oh, all right!” she said finally. “You can have the eye, but I get the tooth now.”
“You can’t have the tooth yet. I just got it!” declared the shortest of the three, exposing an old, yellowed tooth in her otherwise empty mouth.
“Then hurry up and finish eating,” said the old woman as she plucked the eye out of her socket.
The woman with the tooth grumbled, then took one more bite of the bread she clutched. When she’d swallowed it, she brushed her hand across the table, pushing the crumbs into the hole in the middle. Jak expected the bread to fall through the hole and land on the floor, but it seemed to have disappeared.
Glancing at the tables behind him, he saw that there were holes in all of them. A young man wearing travel-worn clothes and mud-splattered boots dropped a crust into the hole at his table and it too disappeared.
“Here you go, miss,” said Bob, setting the soup in front of Tamisin. “And for you, sir …”
Jak sniffed the bowl set before him. It smelled deliciously mousy with a touch of rat, just the way he liked it. Picking up his spoon, he poked the green artichoke skin covering the custard, but before he took a taste, he glanced at Tamisin. “How’s your soup?” he asked.
Tamisin dipped her spoon in the soup and tasted it. “Really good, actually.” She gave his bowl a sideways glance. “A lot of things are different here from what I’m used to back home. I’m just going to have to try to get used to it.”
“I know how that goes,” said Jak, remembering how hard it had been to adjust to his uncle’s household when he’d moved in as a young kit. He’d lived with his parents before that and had never seen either one eat something that was still alive.
They were almost finished when one of the goblin waiters set two enormous glasses filled to the brim with a green liquid on their table. The waiter resembled the innkeeper so much that he might have been a younger version of the goblin. The only thing that wasn’t the same was the way he looked at Jak and Tamisin. It made Jak uneasy, and when the waiter said, “Green beetle juice, compliments of the house,” curling his lip in the imitation of a smile, Jak became more than a little suspicious.
“No, thank you,” said Jak. “The water is fine.”
“I insist,” said the goblin, his smile broadening until his face looked like it might split in two. “You won’t know what you’re missing unless you try it.”
“We really don’t want—,” Tamisin began.
The goblin’s vertical pupils narrowed and the false smile disappeared. “Around here, it’s considered rude to turn down a fine drink like this.”
Jak felt the hair on the back of his neck go up. “We weren’t trying to be rude—”
“Good. Then drink it,” said the waiter. Although he wasn’t very tall, he looked threatening as he hovered beside their chairs. He was still standing there when Jak picked up the glass and sniffed. It smelled like mud and rotting straw, although there was a hint of something acidic, too. There was no way either Jak or Tamisin was about to swallow that.
“Thank you,” Jak said, forcing himself to smile.
The goblin nodded, but he didn’t leave until a leprechaun shouted from across the room, “Waiter, another round of drinks for my friends!” Tucking his tray under his arm, the goblin sneered at Jak before leaving.
“We can’t drink this,” Jak told Tamisin as soon as the waiter was gone.
“Thank goodness!” said Tamisin, looking visibly relieved. “I thought you were going to say that I had to.”
“There’s something in it besides freshly squeezed beetles,” Jak said. “Watch what I do, then do the same. Just make sure that none of the goblins see you doing this.”
Moving his bowl so his body blocked it from the goblins’ view, Jak poured half the beetle juice into the bowl, then emptied the bowl into the hole in the middle of the table, hoping any goblins who saw would think it was the last of the custard. He kept his eyes on the goblins while Tamisin copied him, and whispered, “Don’t pour it all out at once. He’ll never believe that you drank the whole thing that fast.”
Tamisin did what he’d said and had already set her bowl back down before the waiter returned. “Do you like it?” he asked, pointing at Jak’s glass.
“It’s very good,” he said, trying to look sincere.
The waiter grinned at them again, and was about to say something else when one of the gray women called, “Over here, young goblin.” Scowling, the waiter went to her side, looking impatient while she peered into a small gray bag with her one eye. When she’d found what she was looking for, she smiled toothlessly and handed him a piece of amber containing a beetle. “That should cover the room as well,” she said.
“Yes, indeed,” said the waiter. “With change left over.”
“Are you ready, ladies?” she asked her companions. After a great deal of fuss during which they knocked over their chairs and bumped into one another, they held hands as they tromped across the room single file, the one with the eye leading the others to the staircase.
Jak yawned until his jaw made a cracking sound. When Bob stopped at their table and asked if they wanted a room to spend the night, Jak was ready to accept. After a long walk and nearly two days without sleep, he couldn’t face going out into the dark and trying to find somewhere to sleep that would be safe.
Jak and Tamisin were following the innkeeper up the stairs when Jak glanced back at the dining room. The goblin waiter stood by the stairs, watching them almost as if he expected something to happen. Whatever it was, Jak was certain that it wasn’t anything good.
Tamisin was so tired that she had to struggle to keep her eyes open, and she knew Jak was just as tired. When the innkeeper opened the door to a room, she kicked off her shoes, collapsed on the board-hard mattress, and flung her arm across her eyes to block out the light. She heard the goblin leave, but it wasn’t until she heard another bed creaking that she realized Jak was still there. He was sitting on a narrow bed on the other side of the tiny room. A wavering candle was the only source of light.
“They said this is all they had,” Jak said in response to Tamisin’s questioning look. “Do you have any money with you?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “But I doubt American money is going to do us any good.”
Jak held out his hand. “All I need is one coin.”
Tamisin shrugged and reached into her purse. “You can have it, but they aren’t going to take it. You saw as well as I did what kind of money they want, and believe me, I don’t have any green beetles in amber.”
“No,” said Jak, “but I do.” Where he’d been holding a quarter in his hand just a moment before, he now had a piece of yellow amber and the same kind of beetle that Tamisin had seen in the gray woman’s hand.
“That’s amazing!” she said, reaching for it. “How did you manage that?”
“Can all goblins do that?”
Jak shrugged. “Goblins can change natural things, but as far as I know I’m the only one who can change stuff like this. You know, things that have already been made into something else.”
“What are you doing now?” Tamisin asked when Jak dropped onto his knees beside his bed.
“Looking at these beds. You were right when you said that we couldn’t stay outside at night, but we’re not a whole lot safer in here. We’re going to have to take a few precautions. Most goblins won’t give anything away unless it benefits them. There was something in that beetle juice the waiter gave us, either a poison or some kind of drug. If I’m right, we should be having a visitor later tonight, and I’m not going to let us become victims. Yeah, just as I thought … These beds are bolted to the floor so we can’t move them to block the door. If you look, you’ll see that there are no locks on the doors either. This is all laid out to make it easy for them.”
“So what do you suggest?” Tamisin asked.
Jak stood up and brushed off his hands, then went to place his palms on the door. “I can change the door like I did that coin, to start with,” he said. “I’ll make it so no one can open it.” He closed his eyes and a moment later there was a shiny metal lock on the door.
“That should be enough, shouldn’t it?” asked Tamisin.