Goblins in the Castle

by Bruce Coville

  He looked confused, then repeated, “William got bad ears?”

  “No, before that—about Granny Pinchbottom.”

  I could see him racking his brains. Finally a light came on in his eyes. “William and Igor got to go see Granny Pinchbottom!” he cried triumphantly, proud at having dredged the words up from his memory.

  “But Karl told me Granny Pinchbottom didn’t exist.”

  Igor gave me a bop with his bear.

  “I’ve heard scary things about her,” I whispered.

  “Probably all true,” said Igor, squeezing his bear to his chest so tightly that it almost disappeared into his beard. “She scare Igor, that for sure.”

  “Then why are we going to go get her?”

  “ ’Cause goblins scare Igor worse. ’Cause Igor done bad thing by not watching goblins good enough, and now Igor got to fix it.”

  By that logic, I was in on this, too. Of course, it meant that I would have to do what I had never done in my life: leave the castle and go outside. I was fascinated—and frightened again.

  “Time to go,” said Igor. Stepping out of the cell, he took the torch from the bracket in the wall. “Good-bye, home,” he said, as if he never expected to see the place again. Taking a firm grip on his bear’s hind leg, he started down the hall. “Watch out for goblins,” he whispered, in a voice I was sure could be heard ten feet away. “They all over down here now.”

  I nodded and began to scan the hall for any sign of the creatures. We had been traveling for only a few minutes when I heard footsteps behind us. I looked back.

  The footsteps stopped; I could see nothing.

  “Igor!” I hissed.

  He walked on, making no sign that he had heard me.

  I scurried to catch up with him.

  The footsteps began again. This time I tugged at the back of Igor’s coat, being careful not to get near his hump. He spun around, ready to do battle, and seemed surprised when he saw no one but me.

  “I think we’re being followed,” I whispered.

  Igor peered into the darkness behind us. After a moment he handed me the torch. “Igor walk in back now!” he said.

  I nodded and lifted the torch above my head. Its flickering flame made shadows dance around us. My imagination insisted on turning them into goblins waiting to attack. The echo of our footsteps seemed to take on a threatening sound.

  “Go that way,” said Igor after a moment.

  “Which way?”

  “That way!” he said. I looked behind and saw that he was pointing to the left.

  The tunnel was dank, and water trickled down the walls. I stepped into a puddle. It was cold. A rat scurried along the wall beside me; it was big, much bigger than Mervyn.

  The corridor curved to the right. We stepped through an arch. I screamed as something jumped onto my back.

  CHAPTER TEN

  INTO THE WORLD

  “Get it off!” I cried as the thing wrapped its long fingers in my hair. “Igor, get it off me!”

  I heard Igor grunt. I swung around, trying to dislodge the attacker myself, and saw at least eight more of the creatures coming at us.

  I didn’t have time to study them. I remember only a sense of exaggerated features: big eyes, huge noses, flapping ears. Beyond that it was chaos as they came bounding out of the darkness.

  The goblin on my back was shrieking with delight. Igor was roaring with fury. “Get off that William!” he cried, lashing out with his bear and whacking the goblin that clung to me. It bounced away, taking some of my skin with it.

  The others hurried on, screaming, shouting, grabbing at Igor. He lashed out with his bear, swinging it to the right and the left. “Bop!” he cried. “Bop, bop, bop! Take that, goblin! And that, and that!”

  I found that by using the torch I could drive some of them back. Igor’s frenzied strength was terrible to see. In only a moment the goblins fled shrieking into the darkness.

  I collapsed against the wall. “Thank goodness that’s over!”

  Igor shook his head. “Maybe over—maybe not. Come on, we got to keep moving. Bear done good,” he added, patting the bear on the head and giving it a little kiss. “Igor love bear.”

  We moved more cautiously now, fearing another attack at any moment. After a time we came to a stone bridge that crossed a gap in the floor. I wondered if the stream below was the same one I had found the night I met Ishmael.

  A similar set of steps led down to the edge of the stream. “Don’t put foot in water,” said Igor. “Might not get it back.”

  Remembering how I had dipped my hands in the water that other night, I shivered and squeezed against the wall.

  We followed the stream through a stone tunnel. At the point where the stream disappeared we came to a crude door. Igor pushed it opened. The tunnel on the other side cut through soil rather than stone and was braced with rough-cut timbers. The earthen walls were moist and slippery. The little crooked things sticking out from the walls frightened me, until I realized they were roots.

  After several minutes we reached a stone wall that blocked any more progress.

  “Hold bear,” growled Igor.

  I took the bear. Igor began to grunt and groan. Soon the stone wall was replaced by a dazzling circle of light.

  I followed Igor through the hole.

  I was outside!

  “Blah!” said Igor. “Don’t like daytime. Hurt eyes.”

  I knew what he meant. The sun was so bright compared to our flickering torch that at first I found it hard to see out there. Blinking, I looked back at the comfortable darkness we had just left and gasped in astonishment when I saw the enormous boulder Igor had pushed aside. He was even stronger than I had realized, almost stronger than I could imagine.

  We had crossed under the moat and come up not far from its shore. On the other side of the murky water loomed Toad-in-a-Cage Castle. I had never seen it from the outside before, and I was amazed at its size. The four tall towers formed a sort of box around the castle itself, which squatted beneath them—almost like a toad in a cage. Suddenly I realized that the mist that had always surrounded the North Tower was gone.

  I shivered and looked away.

  The air was sweet and clean, but the sky was so high and far off that I felt small and unprotected. Though it was exciting to be outside, I missed the safety of four walls and a roof.

  “Come on,” said Igor, tapping me lightly with his bear. “We got to go.”

  We followed a path that led up a tree-covered hill. A light breeze rustled through the dead leaves that swirled around our feet. I liked their spicy smell, which I had never experienced before. Sunlight fell in patches around us, dappling through the brightly colored, half-bare trees. The path was faint, but Igor seemed to know it well. He led me up hills and down, across land I had studied from the library window yet never set foot on. After an hour or so we crested a hill that overlooked the village. “Are we going to go there?” I asked eagerly.

  Igor shook his head. “Igor don’t go to town during day.”

  I sighed. It would have been exciting to go where there were other people—though as I stared longingly at the town I began to realize that it wasn’t what I had expected, that it was drab and bare, the streets nearly deserted.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Igor shrugged. “Not many people anymore. Town used to be bigger, brighter.” He paused, then added, “Used to be more fun.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Who know? Not Igor. Come on—we got to keep going.”

  We took a wide path around the village.

  Troubled as I was by what had happened, I was also half giddy with the excitement of being outside, overwhelmed by the sights and smells and sounds of the world that I had never entered before. Igor had to bop me three times to get me to settle down. “Quiet, William!” he urged. “Got to be quiet!”

  Toward the middle of the day he took me into a shallow cave, where we sat to rest while the sun passed its high point.
“Too bright,” muttered Igor, scuttling to the back of the cave. “Igor don’t like too bright.”

  Late in the afternoon we started out again. Along the way Igor showed me various plants that we could eat—sometimes fruits, sometimes leaves or stems, sometimes even roots.

  As it grew dark we entered the forest.

  • • •

  Leaves rustled beneath our feet. The branches over our heads cut scars across the pale white moon, which floated huge and full above us.

  I had seen the forest before, had spent hours studying it from my window. But being inside it was different. From the inside it felt wild and strange, more frightening and beautiful than I could have imagined. Thick trees, gnarled and weather-worn, loomed in the moonlight like sentinels challenging our right to be there.

  The trail we followed led along the edge of a great gorge, a deep and rocky drop filled with mystery and moonshadow. I tried to stay as far from it as I could, but something about it seemed to grip me. Over and over I found myself peering into those wild, rocky depths.

  So I was the first one to see the goblins.

  “Igor!” I cried. “Watch out!”

  It was too late. A band of them swarmed over the edge. Ignoring me, they threw themselves toward Igor, leaping and clawing.

  Roaring with anger, Igor lashed around him with the bear. “Bop! Bop! Bop!” he cried. Goblins flew in all directions. But there were more of them now than in the first attack, many more.

  “Leave him alone!” I cried, flinging myself into the fray, trying to pull the goblins away from him. But for each one I managed to dislodge it seemed that two more took its place. They swarmed over Igor like ants over a sweet.

  The fourth goblin I pulled from Igor turned on me with eyes of fire and an open mouth that seemed to take up half its face. With a cry of rage it flung me aside.

  I crashed into a tree, and the world went black.

  When I opened my eyes again the battle was over. Igor, still thrashing wildly, had been bound and was being carried toward the gorge on the backs of a dozen goblins. Even as I staggered to my feet, they disappeared over the edge, chanting. “Nilbog, Nilbog, Nilbog!”

  “Igor,” I cried, as if that would bring him back. “Igor!”

  Something hit me from behind. I staggered forward and fell facedown in the leaves.

  • • •

  This time when I opened my eyes the moon was low in the sky. The night was silent.

  I was alone.

  My head hurt. I put my hand on the back of it and felt a sticky lump.

  Crawling to the edge of the gorge, I tried to stare into its depths. They were lost in shadow. The only thing I could make out was much closer at hand. On a ledge about five feet below lay Igor’s bear.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE REWARD

  A wave of despair washed over me. Dropping my head into my arms, I began to sob.

  My crying was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. I rolled over, ready to fight, and found myself staring at a beautiful woman. The thought that she might be my mother flashed through my mind, then disappeared. My mother had abandoned me, for whatever reason, eleven years before. I wasn’t going to find her here in the woods.

  “Who are you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

  She didn’t answer right away, only smiled. The last of the moonlight seemed to catch in her enormous eyes, to rest gently on her long, dark hair. Her smile brought slight wrinkles to the sides of her mouth and eyes.

  “Who are you?” I asked again.

  “I have many names,” she said, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Around here I am mostly known as Granny Pinchbottom.”

  I was so surprised I let go of her hand and fell backwards. “You’re supposed to be old and ugly!”

  She turned away from me. When she turned back her beauty had vanished. Her hair hung limp and gray around her shoulders, and her nose curved out and down so that it pointed at her warty chin.

  “What you want is what you will see,” she cackled.

  I drew back in shock.

  “Be careful!”

  Looking behind me, I saw that I had come within inches of falling over the edge of the gorge. I took a step forward.

  “How did you change like that?”

  “None of your business! Follow me.”

  Turning, she walked into the forest, not looking to see if I was actually following her.

  “Wait!” I cried. “I have to get something.”

  She didn’t wait. Though I was worried about losing sight of her, I couldn’t leave Igor’s bear behind. Hoping I would still be able to see Granny Pinchbottom after I retrieved it, I scrambled over the edge of the gorge and grabbed the bear.

  When I came back up the old woman was gone.

  “Wait!” I cried again, running forward. “Wait for me!”

  • • •

  Within minutes I was totally lost, not only unable to find Granny Pinchbottom, but also unable to find my way back to the gorge. Clutching Igor’s bear, I glanced around nervously, wondering if more goblins lurked in the woods.

  A twig snapped behind me.

  I spun, ready to lash out with the bear, and found myself face-to-face with a girl. She had big eyes, and dark hair that hung past her shoulders. She wore a ragged brown shift, cinched at the center with a leather belt. A leather pouch hung at her right side, a long knife at her left.

  “What are you doing here?” I cried in surprise.

  “I live here. What are you doing here?”

  I could think of several answers. I settled for the most immediate one: “Looking for Granny Pinchbottom.”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re a brave one!”

  “I suppose so,” I replied. It was beginning to sink in that this was the first girl I had ever seen. She was interesting-looking. “What’s your name?”

  “Fauna. And yours?”

  “I’m called William. Do you know where I can find Granny Pinchbottom?”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I have to. Something bad happened, and I think she can help. At least my friend thought she could help. But something happened to him, too, so now I have to try to find her on my own.” I paused, then added, “Actually, she found me a few minutes ago, but then she disappeared again.”

  “Disappeared? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  I sighed. “She told me to follow her. I asked her to wait, because I had to get something, but she didn’t. By the time I had gotten what I needed, she was gone.”

  Fauna laughed, a sound even prettier than the stream that ran through Igor’s dungeon. “Granny Pinchbottom doesn’t wait for anyone. Come on—I’ll show you where she lives. But I won’t go inside with you. You’ll have to do that on your own.”

  The way she said this did little to add to my confidence.

  “Where do you live?” I asked as we began to walk.

  “In the woods, not far from here. And you?”

  “I live in Toad-in-a-Cage Castle.”

  She looked more surprised than ever. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said, quickening her pace so that I had to hurry to keep up with her. She knew the forest well, finding easy paths through brambly hedges that I would have thought impassable, picking her way across streams where the stepping stones were invisible to my eye until I saw where she placed her feet.

  The next-to-the-last stream we crossed was about fifty yards down from a waterfall nearly as tall as the towers of Toad-in-a-Cage Castle.

  About forty-five minutes after passing the waterfall we came to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a cottage with rough walls and a thatched roof. The light shining from its windows flashed in changing colors.

  “That’s it,” whispered my guide. “Granny Pinchbottom’s place. Good luck!”

  She stepped away and disappeared among the moonshadows.
>
  “Fauna!” I whispered urgently. “Wait!”

  No answer.

  I stared at the cottage nervously. Taking a deep breath, I walked forward and knocked on the door.

  “Come in!”

  The creaky voice was familiar; it went with the second face Granny Pinchbottom had shown me.

  I pushed open the door. The single room of the cottage was illumined by three large logs that burned in the stone fireplace. A large cauldron hung over the fire, steaming and bubbling.

  In a rocking chair near the fire sat Granny Pinchbottom. A huge black cat lay sprawled across her lap. It gave me an arrogant stare, then jumped down and stalked across the room, as if disgusted by my very existence.

  “You took long enough getting here,” said the old woman.

  “You didn’t wait for me,” I replied with more bravery than I felt.

  She shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  To my astonishment, I did just that. Despite the guilt and embarrassment I felt over having let the goblins loose, I opened my mouth and poured out the entire tale.

  As I spoke Granny Pinchbottom reached into the bag next to her. My eyes widened as I watched her pull out a strand of light and begin weaving it through her fingers as if she were making a cat’s cradle.

  As I finished my story she tied the light into a knot, then reached into the bag and drew out a silver amulet. It dangled from a silver chain. Popping open the amulet, she tucked the knot of light inside.

  “Take this,” she said, handing it to me.

  “Why?” I asked in surprise.

  “Call it a reward.”

  “For what?”

  She threw back her head and cackled. “For releasing the goblins. I appreciate it very much.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE GOLDEN COLLAR

  I stared at her in horror. “You wanted me to let them out?”

  She stopped laughing and leaned toward me, her hooked chin pointing toward my face. “I have been working for the release of those goblins for more years than you can imagine,” she hissed.

  “Why?”

  Her answer astonished me. “Because we need them out here. This land is dead and lifeless without them.”