The Common King

by Brian Olsen

  “Abdullah!” he cries. “Get away from him!”

  The man who helped me looks at the goblin in confusion. “He is not a ghoul, Burniss, do not be afraid. This young man was in danger from a chimera and needed a place to hide, just like us. I could not leave him out there.”

  I put my hands up in what I hope is a non-threatening gesture, but the goblin flinches.

  “It’s okay!” I say. “I promise, I’m not who you think I am!”

  “I know your face!” the goblin hisses. “I will never forget it. You slaughtered my tribe!”

  The goblin woman swoops the little girl up into her arms. “This is the Human King? Here?”

  I wave my arms in frantic denial, but the adult goblins draw back in fear so I clasp my hands behind my back. “No! I know I look like him, but I’m not him! He’s not me! I promise!”

  “Quiet!” Abdullah hisses. “We must be quiet, my friends!”

  “He speaks the truth.”

  Two new arrivals came up behind me while I was trying to convince the goblin family that I wasn’t going to immolate them. One is another human man who looks a lot like Abdullah, but younger and without a beard. They’ve got to be related. His arms are filled with candy bars and cookie snack packs.

  It’s the other new arrival who spoke in my defense. He’s an elf. Elderly, with parchment-white skin, long gray hair, and a face heavily lined from age. If I weren’t worried about sounding rude I’d describe him as ‘ancient.’ He’s also carrying a load of assorted treats.

  The elf looks me over. “I have heard of this human child, goblins. He bears the face of the Human King, but not his power, nor his evil. There is no danger here. Not from him.”

  I smile gratefully at the old elf. “Thank you. My name is Chris. Chris Armstrong.”

  “Chris Armstrong?” Abdullah takes a tiny step back from me. “I have heard that name on the news. That is the name they gave the man who claims responsibility for this. And you do look like him. Lallor, you are certain…?”

  The elf nods. “The Butcher wears his face, but this man is innocent.”

  The goblins relax a little. But only a little. The younger human and the older elf pass their food out to them. The human then helps the elf settle onto a stool.

  “You’re welcome here, then, Chris,” my rescuer says. “My name is Abdullah, and this is my brother, Malik.”

  Malik smiles at me. “Hello. Would you like something to eat? We have nothing healthy, I’m afraid, but it is filling.”

  “I’m good, thanks. I need to get going. Back to my—”

  A roar from right outside the store cuts me off. Abdullah pulls me down to the carpet, behind the screens and the counter. He puts his finger to his lips.

  We wait.

  The chimera roars again. Still close, but a little further away. Across the street, maybe.

  “I guess I have time for a candy bar,” I whisper.

  Malik lets out the breath he’d been holding and hands me some chocolate. As I unwrap it, the little goblin girl peeks out from behind her mother, where she took shelter from the roar, and waves at me. I wave back. She giggles and ducks behind the goblin woman. The younger goblin man – maybe he’s a boy, it’s hard for me to tell – watches how I handle my chocolate wrapper, then imitates me.

  “So how did you all end up here together?” I ask.

  “My brother and I were working yesterday when the madness began.” Abdullah accepts a bottle of water from the older goblin man. “There was great confusion. Much death. But I’m sure you know this.”

  “I wasn’t in New York. But I saw similar things firsthand, in other places.”

  He nods. “Many fled, or tried to, but we stayed. We didn’t think it would be safe on the streets, and we were correct. A group of goblins, although we did not know then what they are called, broke our windows. They did not hurt us, but they threatened us and took some of our food.” He puts a hand on the goblin woman’s shoulder. “This was not our friends, of course. Different goblins. Perhaps introductions are in order?”

  “I am Durka,” the goblin woman says. “My husband, Burniss, our son, Fulmis, and our daughter, Salok. Forgive our unease. Our tribe was almost entirely wiped out by the Human King. We were lucky to survive.”

  I resist the urge to apologize. “Nice to meet you.”

  Burniss manages a weak smile, but his son Fulmis’s is much broader. Salok sticks her long tongue out at me. I do the same, and she giggles loudly in delight. Her mother instantly shushes her, and everyone tenses, listening.

  No roar comes, so Burniss picks up his wife’s story. “Some months ago, all goblin tribes were banished to a strange land of endless dirt and dry grass. Every day was like the day before, monotonous and unchanging, until yesterday, when we found ourselves here, in this strange human city. A group of goblins, strangers, chased us. I don’t know why.”

  “We are from another tribe.” Durka sighs. “For far too many, that is reason enough. Human soldiers found us and our pursuers fled. We asked the humans for their protection but they fired their weapons at us.”

  “The National Guard, we think,” Malik explains. “Or perhaps the NYPD. I’ve heard most of the Army has been deployed to Washington, but it’s hard to know what’s true. There’s much conflicting information flying around.”

  “The noise startled a chimera, which attacked the soldiers,” Burniss continues. “We were pinned down outside this shop, trapped between frightened humans and a hungry beast. Abdullah and Malik offered us shelter.” He pats Malik’s arm. “We owe them our lives.”

  Salok, the little girl, climbs into Malik’s lap. He offers her a cookie and she coos in delight and shoves it into her mouth. It’s only a little cookie but it’s enormous to her, and her cheeks puff out with the effort of fitting it all in. Malik laughs.

  “That’s amazing,” I say to the brothers. “You couldn’t have understood what was happening, but you still helped them?”

  Abdullah waves away my compliment. “What else could we do? They were in danger. As were you.”

  “And this was all yesterday?”

  He nods. “After many hours, our new friends disappeared as quickly as they came. We saw on the news that all the unusual people and animals were gone, all over the world. The city calmed, and my brother and I stayed in the store overnight to ward off looters. We thought it was over, but then that madman with your face made his threats, and this morning, once again…” He gestures to the goblins.

  “We appeared close by,” Durka says. “So we sought out this shop again, hoping the same kindness would be offered.”

  The old elf sits up straight. “And that is where my part in this tale begins, although I suspect you’ve worked that out on your own, Chris Armstrong. I am Lallor, of the Elkroot tribe. I appeared on the street outside when the logomancers released us from our prison. Those of us who are unable to assist in keeping the peace were instructed by our tribal leaders to seek shelter. These good people invited me in. This was, of course, just a short time ago. I’ve only begun to tell them how all magical species were cast out of the world, and how that world has changed in our absence.”

  A loud pounding sounds behind me, from the metal door at the other end of the store. Another thud and it shakes again. Then quiet.

  “What the heck is that?” I whisper.

  “It resembles Sam, the nice man who owns the bodega on the corner,” Abdullah replies, “but my friends inform me that it is actually a ghoul who has eaten him. When the goblins and chimeras returned, he did as well. In our back offices. Malik and I managed to get the door closed on him, but only just.”

  “He’s locked in, though, right? We’re safe here?”

  “Ah.” Abdullah rubs his neck. “I’m afraid the door is unlocked. If the monster should hit the latch by accident it will undoubtedly open.”

  “What?” I get up into a crouch. “Shouldn’t we lock it?”

  “The lock is broken. We have an appointment with a locksmi
th this afternoon, but I have a feeling he will not show.”

  “Probably not. Maybe we should move, then. Find another store for you to hole up in.”

  Another thud punctuates the danger.

  “Perhaps you are right,” Abdullah says. “He has been still for some time, but it seems he has remembered we are here.”

  “If we—”

  A roar cuts me off. The chimera. Investigating the sound.

  Thud.

  Roar.

  It’s right outside.

  Salok whimpers in fear. Durka gathers her daughter up in her arms and cradles her.

  Broken glass crunches. The chimera is in the shop.

  “Weapons?” I whisper.

  Abdullah pulls a baseball bat from underneath the counter.

  I look back at the goblins.

  Burniss shakes his head. “We are farmers.”

  “Our teeth are weapons!” Fulmis, their son, speaks for the first time. “I can bite, like the wild goblin tribes do!”

  Burniss throws an arm around his shoulders, holding him tight. “You are not biting a chimera!”

  “Father—”

  “Not another word!”

  Okay, so no weapons from the goblin farm family. Lallor, at least, has the same knack for concealment that Tannyl has. The old elf reaches behind his back and produces a long dagger.

  I extend my hand. “May I?”

  Lallor hesitates. “Do you know how to fight with a blade?”

  “Put the sharp end in the monster?”

  He sucks in his lower lip, then gives me the knife. “I suppose that will have to do.”

  There have been no more thuds from the ghoul. The chimera has slowed, but is still sniffing its way around the store. The goat head bleats loudly, and the lion head roars softly in response.

  If it keeps coming this way, and it probably will, it’ll see us. The counter is open at both ends, but past the goblins it opens up onto a corner of the store with racks of swimsuits and t-shirts. Could serve as cover, maybe.

  I gesture for everyone to head in that direction. Malik helps Lallor up into a crouch, and they and the goblins move to the far end. Fulmis breaks away from his father and scuttles over to me and Abdullah.

  “I want to help,” Fulmis whispers to me. “I can help!”

  I put my hands on his shoulders. “How old are you, Fulmis?”

  “Fifteen. How old are you, Chris Armstrong?”

  “Seventeen.”

  He curls his lip at me. “Two years older. Don’t try to tell me I’m too young to help.”

  I smile, despite myself. “Okay, I won’t.” I nod at the approaching Durka. “But she will.”

  “Mother—”

  She puts a single finger to his lips. He slumps in defeat, and she drags him back to join the others.

  Abdullah chuckles. “Without saying a word. That is good parenting.”

  “You’d better go, too. Get them out the window and find a safe spot.”

  He tightens his grip on the baseball bat. “You will not face the beast alone.”

  “There might be more chimeras outside. Or ghouls, or hostile goblins, or angry humans. And your friends are defenseless without you. Go, I’ve got a plan.”

  I absolutely do not have a plan. But Abdullah believes me. He pats my shoulder, then joins his brother and the rest. I hold up my finger, indicating for them to wait. Abdullah nods.

  The chimera is almost to the counter. Can’t wait anymore.

  I reach up to the top of counter, depending on the screen to hide my arm from view. My fingers find something heavy and I grab it. A stapler. Good enough.

  I throw it across the room, past the chimera, at the metal door. The stapler hits with a loud clang and bounces off, striking a display of snow globes and sending them skidding across their shelf. The chimera snarls and turns. The ghoul, excited by the noise, pounds on the door, again and again. The chimera bounds over to investigate, roaring and bleating and hissing all at once.

  I signal to everybody else and they make their move across the store towards the busted front window. There’s plenty of space between them and the distracted chimera. They can make it. I might even be able to make a run for it too, as long as the ghoul keeps causing a distraction.

  But I’d better not follow my new friends. Can’t risk drawing the monster’s attention towards them. So I inch forward. Just a bit. Just past the edge of the counter.

  The chimera is a little ways away, roaring at the closed door, but if it turns it’ll see me.

  Or it’ll see me if it has a tail that’s a snake head facing the opposite direction from its other two heads. Oh, damn.

  The snake hisses. It spits venom but I’m too far away and the poison lands in a sizzling puddle on the carpet.

  The goat head twists around, trying to see what the snake saw. The lion body turns towards me but in the other direction from the way the goat’s trying to go. Not a lot of cooperation between the parts, I guess. The lion controls the legs, so it wins.

  The chimera crouches. Ready to pounce. Gonna tear me apart instead of roasting me.

  I hold up my little knife. It seemed so much bigger when Lallor handed it to me.

  Salok cries. A loud, terrified wail. It’s not her fault. She’s barely a toddler. But she distracts the chimera, which rises out of its crouched position. The lion looks at her, but another thump from the door attracts the goat head’s attention. The snake head ignores them both and reaches forward, past the goat head, hissing at me. The creature stays still for a moment, working out which way to go.

  Of its three possible targets, I know which one I’d prefer it choose. Unfortunately, that target is behind a door. Not tempting enough.

  I grab something else from the counter. A Phantom of the Opera paperweight. I throw it at the door, hitting it square in the middle. Another loud thump from the ghoul, but the chimera isn’t fooled. At least, the lion isn’t. The goat continues looking at the door, but the lion decides to pass on the group across the store and join the snake in focusing on the nearer prey. Me. The creature roars.

  I throw something else. A pencil cup. Pencils fly but the cup hits the door. More thumps from the ghoul. The door shakes.

  The chimera crouches, ready to spring.

  With one last thud the door pops open. The ghoul, looking like a drooling elderly Eastern Asian gentleman, stumbles out. It sees the chimera and has just enough brainpower to realize it’s made a terrible mistake. It draws back, trying to return to the safety of the store’s offices.

  The goat breathes a stream of fire, but at the same time the lion turns to see what all this new commotion is about, causing the goat head to pivot and spray flames across the far end of the store. The goat cuts off the stream, but too late for NY Gifts. A rack of posters catches and the blaze quickly spreads to the carpet.

  The lion pounces, jumping through the open door after the ghoul. Just to be safe, I run forward and slam the door. It catches on the snake-head tail, preventing the door from shutting. The snake hisses at me and opens its mouth wide, ready to shoot more venom.

  I slash it with Lallor’s knife. I’m not strong enough to cut through, but I make a good gash and interrupt the imminent poison-spewing. The lion roars in pain and whips its tail to safety, yanking the snake clear. I push the door closed.

  Water pours down on me from the sprinklers above. Wow, the fire spread fast. If I still had my logomancy, I could save the store. Shame. All I can do is run for the street, where Abdullah and the rest are waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “About your store.”

  Abdullah clasps my shoulder firmly. “We are alive. That is what matters. Thank you, my friend.”

  I hand Lallor back his knife. “A little sticky, but intact.”

  “Chimera blood!” The old elf admires the blade, grinning. “She hasn’t tasted that since my fiftieth birthday. Now that was a party!”

  Sounds like there’s a story there, but I don’t have time to hear it. �
�You should find a new hiding spot. The street looks clear now and I’ve got to get back to my friends.”

  I look up at the roof. No sign of Mr. Liefer.

  “Alisa?” I think.

  After a long moment, her response comes, but it’s muffled in my head. Distant. “Chris…can’t…have to…”

  “Alisa?”

  Whatever’s happening where I left my friends, a block and a half south, is mostly blocked from my view by buildings or the back of the TKTS stairs, but I catch glimpses of fighting. Mrs. Wollard, in full wolf-form, is thrown into the street, but rolls and gets up and runs back to the fray. A big chunk of stone hurls through an already shattered store window.

  Okay. If they’re still fighting, then they’re still alive. I hope.

  “Head north,” I say. “As far as you can get.”

  “What of you?” Burniss follows my gaze down toward the fighting. “You will not intercede in a logomancer battle? Not without powers of your own?”

  “Not much choice. They need me.”

  “I’ll come with you!” Fulmis licks his sharp teeth. “You saved us, Chris Armstrong. Let me help you!”

  Before either of his parents can protest, I say, “Thanks, Fulmis. That means a lot. But I’d feel better if you stayed with your family and protected them. All of you, find a safe place until this calms down.”

  Lallor wipes his dagger clean on a rag. “I will watch over them, former logomancer. Do what you must.”

  The odd assemblage heads north. Little Salok waves at me from her mother’s arms. Fulmis shoots worried looks in my direction, but keeps pace with his family. They stop to peer around the corner of 48th Street and, seeing nothing threatening, continue on.

  All right. I’ve gotta get back on track. Check on Mr. Liefer, like Alisa told me. He’s the one who needs help. Alisa will be okay without me. They all will.

  No teleporting to the roof for me this time, but the door to the building where we left Mr. Liefer is open. It’s a bank, completely abandoned. At the back, another open door leads to some offices, then finally to the stairwell. It’s not a tall building, just a few stories. I follow the same route that the chorus girl ghoul must have taken and come out on the roof.