by Jim C. Hines
"I've fought hobgoblins before," said Lurok.
"Wasn't that the time you came back with a crossbow bolt sticking out of your—"
"Attack!" Lurok hurled Jig around the bend.
Jig promptly stepped on his own foot and fell. He watched Lurok's boots clomp by, heading toward the hobgoblins.
The hobgoblins drew curved swords as Lurok approached. They had longer arms, faster reflexes, and stronger muscles than most goblins. Their skin was a sickly yellow tinge, but that was normal for hobgoblins. Their black, heavily greased hair shone in the light. Neither one appeared worried.
One of the hobgoblins spotted Jig. He drew his sword and walked up the tunnel, while his partner prepared to face Lurok. Jig's only hope was that Lurok might somehow kill his opponent and stab the other hobgoblin in the back.
Lurok attacked. The other hobgoblin easily parried the blow, then punched Lurok square in the nose. Lurok staggered back, and his head cracked against the wall. He fell like a rock.
Why did it have to be goblins? Muré asked.
"Help me," Jig whispered.
How?
"You're a wizard. Get out of my ear and do something wizardly!" Jig grabbed one piece of the wand and jammed it into his ear.
The hobgoblin hesitated. He probably thought Jig had gone mad with fright. Which wasn't entirely untrue.
Keep that cursed thing away from me!
Jig continued to poke and twist until Muré oozed out of his ear. "If you don't stop them, we'll never find Firam's staff."
"Very well," said Muré. Her hands began to pop and smoke. One of the hobgoblins took a step back.
"It's working!" Jig perked his ears, listening to make sure no hobgoblin reinforcements were on the way. "Hurry and finish them off before anyone hears."
This was wonderful! Muré would kill the hobgoblins, and Jig could check to see if they had any food. If not, well, magical fire meant well-done hobgoblin meat.
"Um...." Muré stared at her hands. "I'm trying."
Jig's stomach knotted. "What?"
She waved her hands, producing more sparks, but nothing else. "My wand is broken. I need all of my magic just to resist the pull of Firam's curse. There's nothing left for summoning mystic fire or bursting an enemy's heart." She raised her hands. "Entropic sparks are a side effect of—"
Jig had stopped listening. Fast as he could, he fled down the tunnel. He made it an entire four steps before a rock smacked into his shoulder. He fell again, and his fangs gouged his cheek.
"Got him," said one of the hobgoblins.
Jig rubbed his shoulder. "Touch them!"
"I beg your pardon?" said Muré.
The closest hobgoblins poked his sword through Muré. When nothing happened, he laughed and advanced on Jig.
"With your magic!"
Understanding dawned. Muré floated between the hobgoblins and brushed a sparking hand through one's greased hair. The ends began to burn.
The second hobgoblin appeared to be as slow as Lurok. Even after seeing how useless weapons were against Muré, he still tried to stab her in the gut.
His sword passed through the ghost and into the first hobgoblin's shoulder. Jig wiggled away, out of the reach of those swords.
"Let's go," said Muré, igniting the second hobgoblin's hair as she floated after Jig. "Firam's staff is this way. I can sense it."
Jig thought about fleeing, but he would have to get past the burning hobgoblins first, and Muré could set him on fire as easily as she had them. Cursing quietly, Jig grabbed Lurok's foot and dragged him deeper into the darkness. His mouth watered as the smell of cooked hobgoblin wafted through the tunnel.
* * *
Fortunately for Jig's aching back, Lurok soon began to stir. A simple head injury couldn't keep him down for long. Goblin skulls were sturdier than most, and Lurok's head was almost entirely bone. Jig dropped Lurok's foot and collapsed against the wall. Lurok was also heavy.
"Stupid hobgoblins," Lurok groaned. "Must have jumped me from behind."
"How much further?" Jig asked.
"Not far," said Muré. She pointed to a narrow crack in the tunnel wall. "It was through there that Firam betrayed me, as I worked to complete my test."
"What was the test?"
"To collect six salamander bladders and the droppings of a fire spider. For a spell."
"Oh." Wizards were strange.
Lurok reached into a pocket and pulled out a chunk of dried snake meat. Jig's stomach gurgled.
"Want some?" Lurok asked.
Jig nodded, drool pooling beneath his tongue.
"Too bad. I need to keep up my strength. Could be tunnel cats through there." He popped the meat into his mouth.
Jig clutched his stomach as he peeked into the crack. Tunnel cats liked narrow, cramped spaces where their prey couldn't easily escape.
"If Firam betrayed you down there, how did your wand end up in our dinner?" Jig asked. The longer they talked, the longer it would be before he had to step into that crack.
Muré shook her head. "It's hard to know exactly what's happening when you're stuck in a wand. I remember falling and landing in something foul. It smelled a bit like your friend, actually."
"Hey!" said Lurok.
"As I lay there, desperately fighting to keep my soul from being sucked into my wand, I saw Firam tumble after me. One of those tunnel cats followed us down."
Lurok nodded. "They climb like spiders, and a single blow with their paw can tear a stripe of flesh as wide as your hand."
"The last thing I remember after my rather awful death was a worm, a horrid, segmented thing the size of my arm, creeping toward me."
"Carrion worm," Lurok said. "That's probably what ate your body."
"They'll take anything that isn't metal for their nest," Jig added. Like Muré's wand. Goblins would sometimes go scavenging in carrion worm nests, bringing back scraps of treasure from dead adventurers.
"Filthy things," Muré said. "They should be exterminated."
"They're hard to kill," said Jig. "Cut them in half, and you have two shorter carrion worms. They won't eat poison, either. You can burn them, but the stench—"
"Enough." Muré shivered. "Shall we move along before you two die of old age?"
"I'm still eating," Lurok said.
Muré clapped her hands, and her fingers began to glow again.
"I don't take orders from dead humans," Lurok shouted.
Jig cringed. "The hobgoblins will hear."
"Listen to the runt," said Muré. "The next time the hobgoblins trounce you, we might not bother to save your life."
"What do you mean, trounce me?" Lurok grabbed Jig's arm and hauled him close. Jig tensed, wondering if Lurok would use his club or simply smash Jig against the rock. Instead, Lurok grabbed the broken wand from Jig's pouch. "I've had enough of this. She's stuck to that stick, eh?"
Before Muré could stop him, he flung the pieces into the crack. Muré yelped and disappeared.
"That'll show her," Lurok said, stuffing another hunk of meat into his mouth.
Seconds later, the wand returned, the pieces streaking through the air like arrows. One stabbed Lurok's shoulder. The other buried itself in his thigh. Neither wound was deep, but Lurok still squealed.
"Try that again, and I'll send them into your eyes," Muré said. "Jig, retrieve my wand."
Hands shaking, Jig plucked the pieces from Lurok and tucked them away.
"Now we go," said Muré.
Jig stared into the blackness. "But—"
She slipped into his ear long enough to shout, Now!
Jig was up and walking before she finished reforming.
* * *
The stench grew steadily worse as they walked. The overwhelming scent was of rot and mold, but Jig could also smell sulfur, as well as a faint saltiness from one of the underground rivers far below. The light from Muré reflected off wrinkled layers of black rock as they crept deeper down the tunnel.
Jig kept one hand on his gut,
trying to suppress the growling of his stomach. His other hand clutched the handle of his knife.
"There," said Muré. She slipped between the goblins to investigate a wide, jagged hole in the floor. Black flies buzzed about the opening.
Lurok slapped Jig on the shoulder, nearly knocking him into the pit. "You look jittery, Jig. You're not afraid, are you?"
Jig shook his head. Why should he be afraid? It was only a sheer drop into darkness and oblivion. He stepped around to the other side of the pit. Keeping his ears perked for danger — and for Lurok — he peeked over the edge.
A draft of warm, fetid air greeted him. Muré had led them to a hobgoblin garbage pit. As Muré dipped into the hole, her light revealed dozens of carrion worms crawling over old bones, spoiled meat, scraps of burnt wood, as well as fouler hobgoblin filth.
"I see him," Muré cried.
Jig cringed. "Not so loud!"
"He's farther down the pit. His staff is still clutched in his hands." She flew back out. "One of you will need to climb down and retrieve my staff. I'll instruct you in the steps to break the curse. Even a child could do it."
Jig frowned. "His body is still there? I thought—"
Fingers clamped Jig's ear. "You heard her, runt," said Lurok. "Time to crawl through the filth. And try to keep your gut quiet."
Jig forgot all about his hunger as the growling sound grew louder. "That wasn't me," he said, his voice barely more than a squeak. He turned to look down the tunnel. Yellow eyes glinted back at him. "Tunnel cat!"
Lurok's grabbed Jig's arm. Jig squirmed, but Lurok was too strong. The larger goblin flung him headfirst at the tunnel cat.
He landed in a heap on the floor. The tunnel cat crept closer. Jig drew his knife. He also had his fangs, a goblin's natural weapons.
Between its teeth and claws, the tunnel cat was much better armed. Its fur was black with splotches of brown. It smelled musty, like old mildew. Long white whiskers haloed its face. Jig could smell blood and fresh meat on its breath.
"Lurok? Muré? Help?"
"Don't worry," said Lurok. "Once the cat starts eating you, I'll sneak up and bash its brains out. That will show him."
Jig pointed at Lurok. "He has more muscle. Wouldn't he make a better meal?"
One huge paw took a swing at Jig's arm, so fast he barely saw. Jig scrambled back, but the tunnel cat seemed distracted.
"This is ridiculous," Muré muttered. "With Firam's staff, I could annihilate this creature in an instant. Instead, I'm forced to rely on goblins."
The cat's head snapped up. Tufted ears swiveled toward Muré's voice. Jig could hear it sniffing the air.
"Keep talking," said Jig. "The cat can't see you."
"What should I say?"
Jig wanted to throw his knife at her, for all the good it would have done. "Anything!"
The cat continued to track Muré. It stepped away from Jig and batted at the air, one paw passing through the ghost's foot.
"That tickles!"
The cat danced back.
Lurok crept around the side of the pit, coming up behind the cat. He raised his club.
"No," Jig whispered. "It's scared of Muré. If we leave it alone, it might run—"
Lurok attacked. His club tore the tunnel-cat's ear. "Ha!"
The cat's return swipe knocked the club into the pit, and sent Lurok tumbling across the floor, practically into Jig. With a snarl, the cat turned toward Jig.
"Muré, help!"
"I'm amazed any of you goblins survive long enough to reproduce," Muré said, floating toward Lurok's groaning body.
"No, don't lead it this way!" Jig yelled.
Jig's shout must have startled the cat. With a yowl that echoed through the tunnel, it turned to pounce.
Jig screamed and dropped to the floor, covering his head. One paw tore his shoulder, and then he heard claws scraping the rock. There was another yowl, much higher in pitch.
He opened his eyes to see the tunnel cat falling into the hobgoblin garbage pit. The snarling faded as the cat bounced against the wall, then disappeared into the pit. After a while, Jig heard a faint "sploosh," followed by a piteous yowl.
"Will it be back?"
Jig peeked over the edge. "I doubt it. Tunnel cats hate the garbage pits. They can't stand filth." He sat up and tried to stop shaking.
"Good," said Muré. "Then you can climb down and retrieve Firam's staff."
"Once you're free, you'll reward me?" Jig asked. "And then you'll go away?"
"Why would I stay in such a horrible place?"
Lurok groaned and asked, "Did I kill it?"
"No." Jig looked up at Muré. "How did Firam die?"
"I told you—"
"You told me a tunnel cat killed him. But a cat would have eaten the body."
"He fell into the pit," Muré snapped.
"Where the carrion worms would have eaten him. Worms eat anything. Unless it's been poisoned."
Muré's eyes narrowed as she stared at Jig. Without warning, she laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound, and Jig scooted back.
Muré crossed her arms and began to pace, floating back and forth over the pit. "The stuck-up bastard deserved what he got. He was keeping things from me. Holding me back in my lessons, refusing my advances."
"You poisoned him," Jig said. "When he realized, that's when he cursed you."
"You wouldn't understand," Muré whispered.
"Why not?" Jig rubbed his ear. He could hear her words echoing in his head. "I'm a goblin. We live by two rules. Never turn your back on an enemy, and never ever turn your back on a friend."
Muré stared. "I killed him. That...doesn't shock you?"
"Even goblin children know better than to let another goblin tamper with their food." Jig yanked Lurok's pouch from his waist, eliciting a pained groan from the larger goblin. "But it makes me wonder why you'd bother to reward a lowly goblin, once you're free. More likely you'd test your newly restored powers on him."
Muré chuckled. "Perhaps you goblins aren't as stupid as you seem. What can I do to convince you? What is it you want, Jig?"
Jig pulled the broken pieces of wand from his own pouch and stared at them. He could feel Muré's power tugging them.
"I'm not helpless, Jig. I will reward you. I'll test my powers on your friend, and then I'll give you anything—"
"No thanks. Anything you gave me, the other goblins would only take away." Jig took one piece of Muré's wand in each hand and drove the broken ends into Lurok's backside.
"Damned runt," Lurok cried out, trying to turn over. "I'll kill you. Rip you apart. I'll—"
Jig shoved him headfirst into the pit.
"Jig, you fool!" Muré shouted. Then she too vanished. She might have been strong enough to control a few sticks, but she couldn't rip the broken wand from Lurok's body. As he fell, he dragged her down as if a rope bound them together.
Jig's ear popped as the remnants of Muré's magic went with her.
He rose and made his way back around the pit, keeping his ears perked for tunnel cats. He saw nothing but blackness. Muré had already fallen far out of sight.
"I'm not a fool," Jig whispered into the pit. He opened Lurok's pouch and stuffed a handful of snake meat into his mouth, savoring the taste of the dry, rubbery meat. "I'm a goblin."
_____
Author's Note: This was my first goblin short story. I wrote it in 2002, well before Goblin Quest had sold to a publisher. This one takes place before any of the books—Jig hasn't even met Smudge yet. "Haunting" was originally rejected by Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine back in early 2003. Several years later, one of their editors queried me to see if I had any humorous short fiction. I mentioned this story, but told her they had already rejected it.
She said to send it anyway. She bought it a month later, proving once again that publishing is a strange, strange business.
Goblin Hunter
He can run into the battle and fall upon a spear.
He can peek around a corner, cat
ch an arrow in the ear,
or be chewed up by a dragon he just happened to offend;
there are nine and ninety ways a goblin hero meets his end.
-From the song "99 Deaths of the Goblin Hero"
Jig had muck duty again.
His shoulder ached from hauling the muck pot around as he scooped gobs of green sludge into shallow indentations in the stone floor. So far, he had made it through his duties without splashing himself. Even the unlit muck blistered skin in a matter of seconds. When burning, the yellow and green flames were almost impossible to extinguish, which was why the goblins used the stuff in the first place. Unlike most muck-workers, Jig had survived several years with his skin and lungs intact.
Maybe that was why he was the only goblin his age who still got stuck with muck duty. More likely, it was because he was too scrawny and nearsighted to do anything else. And with cloudlings taking over the upper tunnels, the chief wanted twice as many lights, which meant twice as much time filling the fire bowls.
Naturally, this gave the other goblins twice the opportunity to torment Jig.
"Hey Jig, catch!"
Time seemed to slow as a hairy, red-spotted fire-spider the size of Jig's palm flew through the air. Jig started to dive away, then caught himself. That would splash muck all over his body. But if he didn't move—
Jig clenched his teeth so hard his lower fangs pressed into his cheek. Reaching out with one hand, he caught the spider before it could splash into the muck pot.
The fire-spider reacted the way all fire-spiders did when frightened, and Jig's blue skin began to sizzle.
Ropak, the bulky goblin who had thrown the unfortunate spider, pointed and laughed as Jig tried to fling the spider away. Jig's efforts only frightened the spider more, making it cling even tighter. Jig forced himself to hold still. The spider crawled up his arm, each step burning tiny blue blisters on his skin.
Jig knelt and slid the leather strap of the muck pot from his shoulder. Only when the clay pot was safely on the ground did he leap to his feet and swat at the spider. Ropak laughed harder, as did the other goblins who had stopped to watch the spectacle.