Grump & Rose

by Aaron Burdett

  "But you lost the book, or else I think by now I would've seen it."

  "It was taken from me."

  Grump turned from the portal and opened his palms to the fire, casually inspecting the goblin. "Sounds like it did what it was meant to do. At least you got to see the sun."

  "Cost me enough to do that much," Boil murmured.

  "That's your wish, isn't it? To pay back what it cost to get you out of the mountain."

  "Maybe," he said, his voice so quiet Grump almost couldn't hear it. "Emperor willing."

  It was all so convenient, finding a book and then losing it. There was no proof this wizard existed. Certainly Boil's magical artifacts were powerful. Grump couldn't deny that. But the goblins dug in ancient rock. They might have found relics of the past, or perhaps had shamans who could make them.

  Grump reached for Rose, cradling her in his arms as he rocked back and forth. He hummed in soothing notes the only song he knew, the one his mother sang him so many winters ago. The notes filled his throat and lungs and reverberated through his ribs. The melody vibrated against his teeth as it rolled into the open air like warm honey.

  "That's a beautiful song," Boil said.

  The notes died on the goblin's words. Grump blinked and looked up. "I don't know if a human would like it. My mother sang it to me. I think—hope—it would give Rose nice dreams if she heard it."

  Boil smiled, but there was a tortured pain behind it. He looked away and wiped his sleeve across his long nose. "I think it will. A few more days and she'll be pink as a peach again."

  "Peaches aren't pink, Boil."

  "Whatever they are, she'll be that color."

  "Peach?"

  Boil snorted a laugh and looked back at Grump. "You're so damned confusing, you know that? Why are you so different?"

  "I'm not different. I'm ... I don't know, honestly. I'm different than the trolls I know, but I feel like there has to be others like me out there. In my heart, I know that has to be true. I wasn't sure at first, but after meeting you, I think it's got to be true."

  "You remember what I told you when you freed me from the haunts? We've all got monsters in us. Don't matter if we're troll or greenskin or human or dwarf or even those pretty little elves. Any of us can be monsters. But you, Grump? You're not a monster. I've met monsters. I've survived monsters. You're not one of them."

  "But my—"

  "Your Hunger has shit to do with it. That's what you don't understand. Your Hunger gives you strength, makes you powerful. It's like my teeth let me eat rock. Your Hunger doesn't make you a monster. What you do with it makes you a monster, and you've done nothing but be better, kinder, and gentler than anyone I've ever met. Maybe it's time you start thinking a little differently about yourself."

  Grump snorted and ran a knuckle across Rose's brow. Boil might be saying these things to lower his guard and earn his trust. Grump clenched his teeth. You damned fool, you've let the human get in your head. Stop it! Boil is your friend. Trust him. Are you so afraid that you would lose another to your fear? And for what?

  "Thank you, Boil," he finally said.

  "Ah, well, you know, I just like to tell it like it is."

  "No, I mean, thank you for everything. Without you, I never would've known Rose. Without you, I never would have left my garden."

  "But you loved your garden. For a while there I thought you'd try and kill me for it burning."

  "I thought about it," he chuckled. "It probably doesn't make sense, but even though I was comfortable in my little space, I wasn't happy." He blinked at the realization, his brow furrowing. "I wasn't happy. Huh. I never thought of that, but now that I say it, I know it."

  Boil's lower lip bulged. "You seemed pretty content to me."

  "But I wasn't." Grump chortled and shook his head. "Thank you. You've been my first friend in the world who wasn't a goat, and I'd bet my life if there was any greenskin in the world who could make his own great goblin clan, it'd be you."

  "You're giving me too much credit." Boil tucked his knees against his chest and stared into the fire. "But I'm glad to be a friend to someone like you."

  The goblin's lips wriggled as he pressed them together. Water shined his eyes.

  A heat unlike the fire but just as warm blossomed in Grump's heart, and his lips cracked into a toothy smile. He tucked Rose between his legs and ran his tongue across a tusk. "You know, I think we could both use a good puff of thimbleweed."

  Boil's face paled like he'd seen a haunt. He rocketed to his feet, waving his palms at Grump. "What? No! We're in a silly cave. We haven't even gotten to the Grand Mountain yet. Don't waste the good stuff on me. I mean—I've never even had thimbleweed. I ... I, no, that's yours. Not yet."

  Grump waved him off. "It'll rot in my pocket as is. Sit down you grubby little greenskin and enjoy a gift when it's given." He scrunched his lips into a serious point and arched a brow. "Trolls don't give gifts often and we take great offense to those who push them away. You going to test my Hunger, digger?"

  Boil rolled his eyes and tapped a foot on the ground. "Just a little then. Save some for when it's really important."

  Grump's fingers danced as his smile spread. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his pipe, holding it near the flames. Joy and sadness welled within him each time he laid his eyes upon it. Memories of Teacher rose to the surface. Her smile. Her laugh. Her sharp tongue and quick wit.

  It's time, Grump thought. Thank you for everything. Somehow, I know you had a hand in this, and I just want you to know how grateful I am and how much I miss you every day.

  Grump cleared his throat. "Let's have a good puff!"

  The thimbleweed in his pocket still remained, fresh and pungent as ever. He stuffed it into the pipe's bowl and took a great whiff of the plant. It smelled of fresh grass and morning dew, sweet yet clean and utterly inviting.

  He plucked a twig from the fire and held it between him and Boil, flashing his brows. "You have to inhale while you do it. Place the pipe in your lips and take a breath. Hold it in your lungs, then exhale."

  Grump twisted the pipe's mouthpiece to face his friend. Boil approached it with some trepidation, like the pipe might sprout thorns or fangs or stingers or any combination of the three. He leaned toward the mouthpiece and puckered his lips. "Hold it?"

  "It doesn't have the Hunger. It won't bite."

  Boil grinned. Grump shoved the mouthpiece between the greenskin's teeth. Then, he held the smoldering twig against the dried thimbleweed. The bowl glimmered and flared like burning leaves. Boil sucked in a breath. His cheeks swelled. His eyes watered.

  Two plumes billowed from his nostrils and spilled over the pipe. The goblin stumbled back and rapped a fist against his chest, coughing like he'd swallowed a kitten's hairball.

  Grump bellowed a laugh and slapped the ground. He flipped the pipe around and took a deep inhale, and all the anxieties rooted in his body melted away like snow beneath a springtime sun. Grump's muscles unknotted, and his lips loosened. All the suspicions Dain instilled faded behind his smile.

  He slid back and stared lazily at the ceiling. "It calms the nerves. It makes things that don't make sense ... make sense."

  Boil fell against the wall and slid to a lazy seat. "You shouldn't have shared that with me. I ... I ... I don't even...."

  The greenskin started giggling. Grump couldn't help but let a few of his own slip. "Maybe you took too much, eh?"

  Boil took a little too long to shrug. "It's fine." His bleary eyes looked to Grump. "Your teacher taught you this, too?"

  Grump swallowed. He looked to the rainy mouth of their cave. "She did."

  "She was very kind to you then?"

  "That's the only way real teachers should be. She was kind in so many ways, and I tried to be like her. But she wasn't troll and I was. It made things difficult for her to teach and me to learn."

  "Well, she'd be proud of you today, knowing you went from the blackwoods all the way to the West! I bet trolls haven't been out here si
nce before the Wizarding War."

  "Maybe she would be proud." He grinned and bit down on the pipe. "She'd be happy to know I made a friend, that's for sure."

  Boil laughed, then yawned. "So what happened to this teacher of yours?"

  Grump reached for a tusk and stared blankly at the cave wall. "Monsters."

  Boil fell silent then, and so did Grump. He nursed on his pipe until no more thimbleweed remained. After he emptied the ashes into the fire, he looked out into the drenched world beyond their warm cave.

  "Grump?" Boil sat up and leaned toward the fire. "I'm scared."

  "You seem pretty brave for a goblin."

  "I'm serious. I'm scared. What we're doing with wizards and wars—it's not something greenskins like us do. Why are we in this mess? Why are we sharing the same breath with humans from Wren and Vosh, the Order, the blackthorns, hell—wizards themselves? I'm a goblin. I'm worth about as much as a head of lettuce in the grand scheme of things."

  "Mmm." He leaned against the wall and let the fire's warmth wash over him even while Boil's breath did the same. Grump grinned so wide he could stick the tip of his tongue between his tusks. "Maybe the world's in a mood for a good green salad."

  "Oh, you think you're so funny."

  Grump really did, at least in that moment. He giggled until the warm flames threatened him with sleep. As his eyes closed, he imagined Dain and his men, scouring the Hordelands as the storm beat down upon them.

  There are no wizards in Oya.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Frayed Edges

  Grump's eyes slowly peeled apart. He tested the itchy scab on his shoulder, a reminder of his night bound in Dain's enchanted chains and enslaved by the human mage's slippery magic words. The scab would fall soon, but the memories of that hateful night would ever remain.

  Outside, rain pounded the ravine. It came down in endless sheets, rattling against smooth stones and exploding in beaded plumes on a stream that was quickly bloating into a full-fledged river.

  Boil sat beside a fire and warmed his hands. Grump blinked at the greenskin. Dain had sat before a fire in the exact same manner, casually warming his hands while he plucked the secrets from Grump's mind like dried weeds from a flowerbed.

  Grump fought the urge to knock the goblin on his back. Instead, he turned to toward the shimmering portal and the storm beyond. "How long do you think it'll last?"

  "Maybe a day or two? They usually roll in from the Ridge and gather over the marshes. They'll empty their bellies over the forest and move on."

  "We don't have a day or two. Dain—"

  "Dain, Dain, Dain." Boil leaned back, sighing at the ceiling. "This storm's gonna flush those fair folk out or bury them in mud. There's a reason why the horde's kept humans at bay so long here. This place isn't made for them. It's made for us."

  "It was their land once. They're stronger than you give them credit for."

  "Whoever owned the land doesn't matter a lick. It's whoever owns it now. Trolls carved the halls of Getshabal, but it's all haunts now."

  "True enough." Grump scooted to Rose and nestled her in his lap. He stroked her cheek and smiled at the little girl.

  Grump closed his eyes and imagined her as a child, barely walking, smiling, eyes wide and drinking the wonders Oya had to offer. He chuckled, opening his eyes so he could brush her cheek with his knuckle.

  The night dragged on. Grump and Boil tried to fill the quiet with conversation, but after a while that was more chore than entertainment. Slowly, the dark skies paled. Grump reclined by the fire and closed his eyes.

  Stuck in a cramped cave with nothing to do but listen to the rain and his swirling thoughts, he couldn't help but think of Dain Shilayle and the words he spoke that night on Temple Hill. There are no wizards on Oya.

  He cracked an eye open. Boil toyed with a spider, slowly herding the black arachnid toward the flames of his fire.

  Grump closed his eye and curled around Rose. Soon, sleep soon overtook him.

  Grump tucked his knees to his chest and watched the sheets of rain splatter on the rocks beyond their cave. Another night settled over this sanctuary-turning-prison, and the storm lingered like a stubborn cold. He survived haunts and humans alike, but to be thwarted by a bunch of clouds? Grump licked a tusk and grunted, screwing his knuckles against the ground.

  Wind whistled through the portal and cooled his skin but brought no comfort. They were so close. So close! Yet the world itself spat on him, refused to bring this journey to its rightful end.

  To make matters worse, Dain was out there. Grump could sense the knight, feel him scour the woods, heedless of this storm.

  He glanced at Rose, who slept on her satchel instead of in it. A smile hauled his cheeks up as he brushed his finger across her tiny, silky arm.

  "What if I stayed with the wizard?" Grump asked, looking to Boil.

  The greenskin nearly choked on the centipede between his teeth. He tapped a fist to his chest and forced the meal down. "You actually want to stay with a wizard? You do know what they're like, right?"

  "You work for one. It can't be all that bad. From where I sit I've proven myself an able caretaker."

  "I work for one, but not even the emperor himself could get me to stay with one. Believe me when I say wizards are better seen from the horizon. They're not, uh, friendship material."

  "Humph." Grump folded his arms and reclined against the cave wall. Convenient that this greenskin wanted to keep him a good distance from the wizard.

  There are no wizards on Oya. Grump could almost hear Dain whisper the words, a smile on his smug human face.

  "I'm not afraid of a wizard's power," Grump said. "The kind ones saved us and sent the bad ones back, even if it meant tearing an ocean apart to do it. Why would one hurt me after I delivered Rose?"

  "Wizards are their own type of creatures. We don't think like them, and they don't see us in the same way we see each other. We're more like bugs to them, I'd wager. If I were you I'd worry about finishing our mission and moving on. It'll be better that way. Much safer."

  Grump smirked and looked outside. "Safer."

  The night rolled into the coming day. Grump's muscles cramped. His legs itched for work. Even though the night came to its end, he was restless. He closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh through his nose, lying on the cool cave floor.

  A shadow slipped over him. There are no wizards on Oya.

  Grump's eyes shot open, his frenzied stare darting over the cavern walls. Dain wasn't there. No one was, save the goblin and Rose. Grump turned to the portal and eventually drifted to sleep watching the rain, the fire's crackling flames licking at his back.

  "Damn this storm!" Grump pounded the ground and spun angrily around. Days of solid showers, an unending torrent that stole Grump's sanity bit by bit. He eyed Boil while the goblin drew pictures on the wall with old charcoal. It was like time had no effect on the greenskin. Each frustratingly long day trapped inside was just as full of wonder as the wider world. Grump just wished he could slap some sense into the goblin.

  "Patience, Grump, patience," Boil said. "We'll get to the wizard in due time."

  Grump huffed and knocked the back of his head against the wall. Boil finished his silly sketches and plucked an ember from the fire. He juggled it, the simmering orange and red wood trailing a wisp of smoke.

  Rose slept in the open satchel like a baby bird in a mother's nest. Grump watched her, and the anxiety slowly faded as his smile slowly grew.

  "Can I ask you a question?" Boil asked.

  Grump's smile disappeared. "Fine. What is it?"

  "Why do you care for Rose so much? As soon as the storm ends, we'll be at the wizard's and you might never see her again. Why get so attached? She doesn't even move. Just kind of sits there and ... sleeps."

  The question disarmed Grump. It came at him like a spear point fresh from the forge and twisted in his chest. "She needs me," he blurted. "Just like you said you needed me, too. I'm your muscle to get over the
Ridge since the Winding Road was blocked, remember?"

  I'm his muscle, Grump thought bitterly. I'm the beast of burden. He'll betray me. There are no wizards in Oya.

  "It's not just that. There's something more." Boil dropped the ember into the fire and moseyed toward Grump and Rose, wiping his ashy hands on his pants. "There's a whole story locked up inside you that you won't let anybody see. Rose means something to you, and let the Goblin Emperor damn me to digging for the rest of my days if I'm wrong. Why her? What's she mean to you? You wanted nothing to do with the box when it was just a box."

  Grump pulled the pipe from his chest pocket and rolled it as nonchalantly as he could. The rough touch of antler bone, the marks of a knife that carved it into something that would hold a good deal of thimbleweed, the nicks and scratches gained from being dropped while he and Teacher laughed into the deepest hours of the night. "Because, Boil, she was a gift, and all gifts are worth dying for."

  Boil nearly spat up his cough. "Gifts aren't worth dying for. We're here to get our wishes, remember? That's all that matters."

  There are no wizards in Oya.

  "But that's not all that matters." Grump swept Rose into his arms and held her against his chest. Sleeping as she was, he felt the thump of her heart in rhythm with his. "My teacher taught me more about life than how to grow a garden. She taught me that there is more than me out there, that I can take care of something and watch it grow, just for the sake of growing, just for the sake of seeing what it could be, when all that it was in the beginning was a seed in my palm."

  "And you think Rose is a seed?" Boil asked. He took a seat beside Grump and stared at the puffy peach infant in his arms. "Think she'll grow into something neat?"

  Grump scooted away from the greenskin. "I've lived in the Russet Woods, where the redwoods grow taller than giants. Even then, they drop a seed so small I could fit ten on the tip of my smallest finger with room to spare. Most of those seeds will never grow."