Goblins and Gold

by Lindsey Kelk

  Truly, Cinders could not think of a time she had been happier to see her doggy pal.

  ‘I knew you’d find me,’ she said, wiping away a little tear of happiness. ‘I knew you’d be hunting high and low.’

  ‘Um, yes,’ Sparks replied with a woof. ‘That’s exactly what we were doing, definitely not eating sandwiches and hot dogs in the marketplace. Now, open up and let us in.’

  ‘Bit of a problem there,’ Cinders sighed and tried to poke her finger through the letterbox. ‘I’m trapped in here! I followed a goblin home and now he’s cast a spell on the house so I can never leave. He wants me to stay here and wish up piles of gold for him forever.’

  Sparks barked with incredulity. ‘What on earth were you doing following a goblin back to his house?’ he asked. ‘You know better than to follow strangers.’

  ‘He said he had a restaurant and that you were there already,’ she replied, somewhat embarrassed. ‘He said he had sausages.’

  Sparks gave a sage, doggy nod. ‘Well, in that case, I completely understand.’

  But, understand as he might, he had no idea how to get Cinders out of the enchanted house. He pulled on the door, rattled the letterbox and even tried to climb in through the window. But nothing worked.

  ‘Make way for Hansel!’

  Cinders and Sparks looked up to see Hansel charging down the alleyway at full speed.

  ‘I’ll break down the door if I have to!’ he bellowed. ‘Move out of the way, Sparks – I’m coming through!’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Cinders groaned. She covered her eyes with her fingers and then peeked between them just a tiny bit.

  Before anyone could try to stop him, Hansel leaped into the air with a triumphant cry – and bashed right into the little wooden door.

  It did not budge.

  ‘That was a very good try, but the only way for anyone to get in or out of the house is to say the goblin’s name out loud,’ Cinders explained, and Hansel rolled over on the ground, looking really quite sheepish. ‘But I’ve no idea what it is.’

  ‘Could it be John?’ Sparks asked. ‘I feel like there are a lot of Johns in the world. Or have you tried Nicholas? Good solid name is Nicholas.’

  ‘I reckon it’s Jeff,’ Hansel offered, rubbing his foot. The door was much harder than he had anticipated. ‘Or Jimmy.’

  Cinders was trying very hard not to get annoyed, but the goblin could be back any minute and, if he found Sparks, Hansel and Mouse outside his house, they were going to end up trapped right alongside her, and every minute she spent trapped in this house, she was most definitely not on her way to Fairyland.

  ‘I know, why don’t we split up and look for the goblin?’ Sparks suggested, seeing a very familiar look on Cinders’s face. ‘Me and Mouse can go back to the market, Hansel can hang out around here and, when we find the goblin, we’ll just ask him his name. Then we all come back here and – bingo bongo! – you’re free.’

  ‘That’s a very good idea,’ Cinders said, clapping with joy. She really was so happy to see her friends. For a split second, she’d begun to worry that no one would find her, that she’d never see Sparks or Hansel or Mouse or her family ever again, and that she would never complete her quest to Fairyland. It had not been fun, even for a split second.

  ‘What does he look like?’ Hansel asked her. ‘Tall? Short?’

  ‘He’s a goblin,’ she said. ‘So he’s short … like a goblin.’

  ‘Handsome?’ Sparks asked. ‘Or not so much?’

  ‘I don’t think goblins are renowned for their good looks,’ Cinders answered. ‘He’s a goblin; he looks like a goblin. Little, long grey beard, very big, pointy hat.’

  ‘Sounds pretty cool to me.’ Hansel sniffed.

  Cinders closed the letterbox for a moment and rolled her eyes.

  ‘Shall we get this mission started?’ she said through the door. ‘He’ll be back any minute.’

  ‘We’ll find him, Cinders, I promise!’ Sparks shouted as he raced away with Mouse. ‘I’ll be back faster than you can say sausages.’

  ‘Sausages,’ she whispered, watching them go.

  Hansel got to his knees, still quite sore from trying to break down the door, but mostly worried about his friend. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered back. ‘I promise.’

  ‘What will be all right?’ asked a voice behind him.

  Very slowly, Hansel turned round to see a short man with a long grey beard and a very big, pointy hat that he immediately thought looked very cool. The goblin!

  ‘Um, the price of milk,’ Hansel replied, thinking as fast as he could. ‘I was just explaining to the young lady of the house that my farm can deliver all your daily dairy needs for half the cost of whatever you’re paying your current milkman.’

  Cinders held her breath. Would the goblin believe him?

  ‘Half-price milk, you say?’ the goblin replied. ‘What about yoghurts? I love yoghurts.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Hansel said. ‘Those too. All I need to get you set up is your name, address and phone number. But most important is your name – definitely need that.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The goblin stroked his beard as he considered Hansel’s story. ‘Why don’t I write it down for you? Do come inside.’

  ‘Hansel, no!’ Cinders yelled, but it was too late. The goblin had already opened the door and shoved poor Hansel inside. Now he was trapped in the enchanted house alongside his friend.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any magical powers, have you?’ the goblin asked, looking the boy up and down. Cinders reached out to grab Hansel’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Hansel shook his head, feeling somewhat frightened and very foolish. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘In that case, I might call my friend Frank the Bear and see if he’s feeling peckish. Always going on about eating pesky kids is Frank,’ the goblin said before grabbing Cinders’s latest load of wished-up gold. ‘I want ten more bags before I get back!’

  And, with that, he

  was

  gone.

  As soon as Margery arrived back at the palace, she made her way straight to her husband’s bedchamber. As far as anyone knew, Cinders’s father, the king’s favourite builder, had been terribly ill ever since they’d arrived at the palace, hardly even opening his eyes. The king reckoned he was faking it to avoid answering some difficult questions about his wayward daughter. The queen thought a nice long nap sounded very appealing. But Margery was the only one who really knew the truth …

  ‘Time to wake up, dear,’ she said, settling down at her husband’s side and gently shaking him awake.

  He rubbed his eyes and blinked. The room was very dark and very small compared to Margery’s. In fact, it was the smallest and darkest room in the palace and also the furthest away from the king and queen. Margery had insisted it was the best place for her husband to recover, and no one dared argue with Margery.

  ‘Is that you, Cinders?’ he asked weakly.

  ‘No, no,’ she replied. ‘That little madam is still missing. How do you feel?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ insisted the old man as he attempted to sit up straight. ‘Just a little tired. Perhaps you could open the curtains and let some light in? I have to go out and find Cinders. There’s something she needs to know.’

  ‘Yes, yes, all in good time,’ Margery said, popping the cork on the witch’s sleeping potion and pouring it into the cup at the side of her husband’s bed. ‘Are you thirsty? I’ve brought you something delicious to drink …’

  She held the cup up to his lips and tipped it back until he had drunk every last drop.

  ‘Have you heard from Prince Joderick?’ he asked. ‘I do worry about him out there with all those munklepoops and gadzoozles.’

  ‘Not to mention the fairies,’ Margery added, a very worried look on her face. If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that they both wanted Prince Joderick home as soon as possible. Even if they wanted him home for slightly different reasons.

  ‘We needn’t worry
about the fairies,’ Cinders’s father muttered. ‘The fairies are good. The fairies won’t hurt their own.’

  Margery looked confused. ‘But Prince Joderick isn’t a fairy.’

  Her husband shook his head, his eyes already drooping from the effects of the sleeping potion.

  ‘Not Joderick,’ he whispered. ‘Cinders …’

  And then his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

  *

  Sparks had looked everywhere for the goblin. He’d looked high, he’d looked low, he’d looked far and he’d looked wide, but he hadn’t been able to spot that short man with the long grey beard and big, tall hat anywhere.

  ‘Maybe we should go back to the house,’ he said to Mouse who nodded in agreement. ‘Perhaps Hansel or Cinders have discovered his name by now and are ready to leave for Fairyland.’

  This time Mouse didn’t look quite so sure. True, he was only a horse who used to be a mouse, but he wasn’t stupid. Hansel was a nice boy, but Mouse couldn’t quite see him tricking a very cunning goblin into telling him his name.

  Mouse didn’t know how right he was.

  The sun was already starting to dip behind the mountain and the last thing Sparks wanted was to be stuck in this market after dark. Who knew what shenanigans went on here at night-time? And he couldn’t leave Cinders alone with the goblin in that house. Even if he had to sit outside the front door all night long, that’s what he would do.

  The big red talking dog and the horse that used to be a mouse were just about to turn round and head back the way they came when what did they see coming round the corner but a short man with a long grey beard and a very, very tall, pointed hat.

  ‘Mouse!’ Sparks gasped. ‘Do you think that’s him?’

  Mouse squeaked back and rolled his eyes.

  ‘Let’s follow him,’ Sparks suggested. ‘If we can learn his name and give it to Cinders, we’ll find out one way or another.’

  Mouse snuffled his nose and wiggled his whiskers. It was as good a plan as any.

  Slowly, they crept after the goblin, stopping when he stopped, turning when he turned. They followed him through the market, over a bridge and all the way to the other side of the town, right to the foot of the mountain until they came to a building that had no windows, and a door at the front. Above the door was a sign that said CROONERS. The goblin stopped outside, took off his hat, smoothed down his hair and said hello to the rather large bear that was standing in front of the door. The goblin gave him a gold coin, popped his hat back on and went inside.

  ‘Well, I’ll be a giddy aunt,’ Sparks muttered. ‘He’s going to do karaoke.’

  It’s a little known fact that goblins love karaoke, and it was this particular goblin’s favourite thing in the whole wide world. He’d had a very good day, he reasoned as he hopped up on a stool inside Crooners and ordered himself a pumpkin juice. He’d captured a magical halfling, got himself a new FunStation and an excellent hat. It was definitely time to unwind with a tune or two.

  Outside the karaoke bar, Sparks was at a bit of a loss. How were they supposed to sneak past the bear?

  ‘If we can get in, we’ll definitely be able to find out the goblin’s name,’ he told Mouse, his bushy red tail swishing back and forth while he concentrated. ‘But I don’t have any gold left to pay the bear on the door – Hansel has it all. What are we going to do? Perhaps, if I talk to him, I can explain what’s happening and he’ll help us out. Or maybe there’s a back entrance I can creep through? Or we could dress up as health inspectors that have come to check how clean the place is.’

  Or, thought Mouse, I could knock over all these rubbish bins and run away.

  Since Sparks couldn’t read his mind, Mouse decided his plan was just as good as any and trotted over to the bins, crouched down on his front legs and kicked as hard as he could with his back legs.

  ‘Oi!’ the bear shouted. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  Mouse winked at Sparks and kicked again, sending the bins and the rubbish flying all over the place.

  ‘You are so gonna get a knuckle sandwich!’ the bear shouted, stepping towards Mouse. But, before he could so much as raise a paw, Mouse was off like a shot, running away down the street. And, just as he’d predicted, the bear chased after him.

  ‘I hope he doesn’t catch you, Mouse!’ Sparks gasped as he bounded into Crooners just in time to see a lady goblin wearing a very sparkly purple dress and holding a microphone take the stage.

  ‘Next up we have one of our regulars,’ she announced. ‘Everyone put your hands together for …

  Sparks gasped as the little man in the tall hat hopped off his stool and climbed up on to the stage.

  The goblin was just about to open his mouth and begin his song when he saw a very bushy red tail swoosh out of the front door and disappear. It was the dog he’d seen with Cinders!

  ‘Blummin’ blumkins!’ he growled, tossing the microphone back to the lady in the purple dress and leaping from the stage. He had to catch that dog. There was no way he was going to lose his little goldmine!

  Sparks had never run as fast in his entire life. Not when Margery had caught him stealing sausages from the fridge, not when Agnes started her violin lessons and not even when Cinders hung her stinky socks right over his doggy bed.

  Mouse had quickly outrun the bear. He was much faster and much stronger and much more used to darting around in tight spaces, what with having spent most of his life as a rodent, and, by the time Sparks made it back to the bridge, Mouse was right by his side.

  ‘I know his name!’ he barked with joy. ‘We can free Cinders and continue on our way!’

  Mouse squeaked with joy as they galloped on.

  ‘Get on outta here!’ the bear shouted, shaking his fist as the friends ran off. ‘You’re barred, the pair of you!’

  *

  By the time they got back to the goblin’s house, Mouse and Sparks were both so out of breath, they couldn’t even knock on the door.

  ‘Sparks, is that you?’ Cinders called, hearing a commotion outside.

  ‘I heard hooves!’ Hansel added. ‘Is it Mouse?’

  ‘Why are you inside the house?’ Sparks puffed, realising there were two pairs of eyes peering at him through the letterbox. ‘You were supposed to be rescuing Cinders, not keeping her company.’

  ‘We are aware that was the original plan,’ Cinders grumbled as Hansel blushed, embarrassed. ‘What are you doing back here? Did you find out the goblin’s name?’

  ‘We most certainly did,’ Sparks said, puffing out his chest with pride. ‘You’ll never guess what it is …’

  ‘No! We won’t!’ she shouted. ‘That’s sort of the whole point, Sparks. What are you waiting for?’

  To be fair, she had been trapped in the house all day and was very, very impatient to get out.

  ‘Calm down, calm down,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m getting to that. His name is—’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ screeched the goblin, tearing round the corner on a little electric scooter. It was amazing what you could get your hands on when you had bags and bags of ill-gotten gold.

  ‘Don’t you say it!’ he bawled as he launched himself from the scooter on to Sparks’s back, trying desperately to wrap his arms round his muzzle. Sparks kicked and barked and bucked and howled, but the goblin was much stronger than he looked and refused to let go.

  ‘If you keep quiet,’ he bargained, hanging on for dear life as Sparks attempted to toss him off his back, ‘I’ll give you everything you ever wanted.’

  ‘All I want is you off my back!’ the dog barked, running round and round and round in mad circles until the goblin flew through the air and landed – – right in front of his own front door.

  ‘Your name is Rumpelstiltskin!’ Sparks shouted. ‘Now open the door and let Cinders and Hansel go free!’

  The goblin looked at Sparks, he looked at Mouse, he looked at Hansel and he looked at Cinders. And then he laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Cinde
rs asked, yanking the door handle with all her might. It didn’t even start to budge. ‘You said you’d let me go if I learned your name. Well, I’ve learned it and now you have to let me out.’

  ‘Yes, I do remember saying that,’ Rumpelstiltskin replied. ‘But I also remember trapping you in my house and making you wish up piles of gold. Do those sound like the actions of a goblin who is planning to keep his promises?’

  Cinders gasped. Everyone knew that there was nothing in the world worse than breaking a promise.

  ‘Letting you go would be silly,’ the goblin went on, before dropping to the ground and busting out a pretty good breakdancing routine. ‘So you can go around shouting my name as much as you like, but I’m not going to let you go. I’m Rumpelstiltskin and I’m the cleverest goblin that ever there was.’

  ‘I think we both know that isn’t true, Rumpy.’

  Cinders peeped past the dancing goblin, squinting to see just who was talking. Short, red-haired, sparkly wings … it couldn’t be.

  ‘Cinderella? What are you doing in a goblin’s house, you absolute plonker?’

  Yes, it was definitely her.

  ‘Brian!’ Cinders cheered. ‘I am so glad to see you!’

  ‘It really is you!’ Cinders cried, accidentally elbowing Hansel in the head in all the excitement. ‘You’ve got to help us! This goblin tricked me into coming inside his house to wish up gold for him and said he would only let us out if we guessed his name, but we know his name and he still won’t let us out.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Brian said, staring at the goblin with her arms folded and a very stern look on her face.

  ‘Long time no see,’ Rumpelstiltskin said, combing down his eyebrows and winking at the fairy. ‘Nice to see you, Brian.’

  ‘Wish I could say the same,’ she replied. ‘I see you’ve been up to your old tricks again? Lying to fairies and breaking your word.’