It was the fault of the straw-colored gown, of course. Why had she foolishly dressed in silk, instead of light-weight muslin or cambric like most of the other women? She had planned to impress Lord Skelbrooke, of course, before she had learned he would stay behind, and this was what came of her vanity. For all that she had only herself to blame, she refused to sit meekly in a pew the whole evening long, to be boiled in her silken gown.
Sera glanced longingly in the direction of Spyglass Hill, for it seemed to her that it must be breezier, and therefore cooler, up on the heights. If she dared to venture so far into the dark alone . . .
It was then that something small and furtive, moving about in the shadows, caught her attention. There was a second skittering, about a dozen yards from the place where she stood, and a scratching on one of the rooftops. Sera suddenly realized that the square was alive with hobgoblins.
She felt a tug at her skirt. Looking down, she was greatly astonished to see a young hobgoblin clinging to her skirt with a tiny clawed hand, staring back up at her with what could only be described as a pleading gaze.
Really, thought Sera, the creature appeared so harmless and forlorn, she could hardly view its actions as threatening. With a glance back over her shoulder, to make certain that no one observed her, Sera stooped down to speak to the hobgoblin.
"I daresay that you cannot understand a word I say, but I must tell you: you risk yourself quite foolishly here. Go back to your tunnel with all haste, before somebody sees you and sends a stoat or a savage little terrier after you."
But the hobgoblin continued to pull at Sera's skirt and make tiny, incoherent noises, as if anxious to communicate.
"My good creature," hissed Sera, taking several steps away from the church. "I do not speak a word of your language . . . that is, supposing that Mr. Barebones was not mistaken, and you do have a language. But whatever it is you mean to tell me—"
Just then, another hobgoblin stepped out of the shadows, dangling a chain and a little ivory-colored object, which it waved back and forth in a tantalizing way, and then loped off in the direction of the hill.
"You wretched little thief!" exclaimed Sera, recognizing her missing necklace. Lifting her skirts, she immediately gave chase.
Halfway up Spyglass Hill, her usual good sense returned to her. It was ridiculous to suppose that she could catch the hobgoblin and wrestle her necklace out of its grasp, dangerous to be running about at night, all on her own. Sera paused to catch her breath and consider the situation. The hobgoblin ran on ahead for a moment, seemed to notice that she no longer followed, and then stopped, too.
Only a small and tremulous moon shone in the sky. But the night was clear and a thousand brilliant burning stars provided sufficient light for Sera to make out the hobgoblin's face and form, as it perched on a gravestone, its thin limbs folded up, and continued to dangle her necklace. It might be the very same hob that she and the others had rescued, or again it might not. One knew so little of hobgoblins and their distinguishing features.
But it did not appear to be at all vicious, or even particularly mischievous, she was forced to allow, for all that it continued to hold up the precious necklace in such a teasing manner.
"You mean to lead me up the hill. Madness to follow, for it might well be a trap," said Sera. Yet any idea that the Hobb's Church goblins and the Duchess of Zar-Wildungen could possibly be in league was too fantastic to be believed. "Very well, you horrid little beast. I do want that ivory charm back, and if that means taking a look at whatever it is that you want to show me, then so it must be."
And perhaps some other little hob had been injured, or was otherwise in distress, perhaps knew the kindness she and her friends had done it, and come seeking her aid again. Sera gathered up her full skirts and petticoats and proceeded purposefully up the hill.
The hobgoblin led her through the grass between the gravestones, all the way to the windy summit and the ruined chapel. Sera gave a gasp of astonishment, for a section of floor was missing. A stone slab to which the tiles were cemented had been simply lifted and moved aside, revealing a set of stone steps, which apparently led to the heart of the hill.
"Did Jedidiah and Mr. Jonas discover this?" she asked herself aloud. "No, I think not, for I should know if they had. Jed could hardly have kept the news to himself. But what a remarkable discovery, and I wonder where it leads? It would be folly to descend, yet how intriguing the prospect!"
The hobgoblin had ducked into the hole, then skittered out again, an exercise the creature repeated again and again, evidently meaning her to take the hint and follow the steps down into the earth.
Sera was still hesitating, with one foot on the top step, when Jed finally caught up with her. Huffing and puffing—for he had run up the hill without pausing to catch his breath—he scowled at her ferociously. A full minute passed before he regained enough breath to begin to scold her.
"Of all the hare-brained! Whatever possessed you, I'd like to know, to leave the concert? As soon as I saw you was missing, I went out into the square. And when I couldn't find you there, I reckoned the Duchess had sent someone along to whisk you away. 'Til I chanced to look up and seen you here, silhouetted against the stars, like—"
"Jed," Sera flashed back at him, "I wonder if it is possible for you to scold me without lapsing into some dreadful river dialect?"
"Lucky for you," said Jed, "you wasn't—weren't spirited away. Lucky for me, because how was I to explain, to Elsie and his lordship, how I ever let you run off? You wanted a walk in the air, you should of asked me to walk with you."
"Yes, I suppose I should have. But I never meant to venture even a dozen feet from the door," said Sera. And she proceeded to explain to him, over the chirping of perhaps dozens of goblins down in the hole, exactly what had occurred. "This is evidently a passage leading down into the caverns. I am not afraid to follow, but—"
"—but you're a d——n sight too sensible, praise the Powers, to go down into the caves without so much as a candle to light your way," Jed finished for her. He considered for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other, and back again. "I suppose I could go home, fetch a lanthorn and a rope, while you stay here . . . No, I can't leave you here alone."
"I'll not be alone," said Sera, gesturing toward the dark hole. "There seems to be a tunnel full of hobgoblins down below, and I do believe they are friendly.
"No, Jed, do not show them your pistol, you might frighten them off," she exclaimed, as he reached inside his coat, meaning to offer her the weapon. "They have been shot at and stoned and exploded so often. Besides, you know that I haven't the least idea how to handle a pistol. Just hurry! It is growing quite late. And it would be dreadful if the hobs grew discouraged and simply disappeared without showing us anything."
***
Jedidiah returned, perhaps a quarter of an hour later, bearing a length of rope, two lanthorns, and a piece of chalk. To Sera, of course, it seemed he had kept her waiting for ages.
"I hope they don't mind if I make a few marks as we go along. We don't want to get lost . . . supposing these steps really do go down to the Deeping Caverns," Jed puffed, for he had run both going and coming.
"Whatever you wish," said Sera, giving his arm an impatient shake. "Only let us not stand here talking, but light the lanthorns at once!" For the chattering and scrabbling down in the hole had ceased, and Sera was afraid the hobgoblins had deserted her.
Jed handed her a lighted lanthorn and then lit one for himself. Then they both made haste to descend the stairs, stumbling a little in their eagerness. Part way down, they found a pair of hobs huddled together on a narrow landing, waiting to lead them farther.
The steps were not only damp but crumbling at the edge, making it necessary to take each one carefully. The stairs went down and down for several flights, and then ended at a great iron door, set into a stone archway.
Sera drew a sharp breath. "I suppose it must be a tomb. What else, indeed, could those who built the original tem
ple have meant it for?"
"I don't know," said Jed, lifting his lanthorn high, in order to illuminate the whole of the mysterious portal. "But as wet as it is down here, you would think after nearly two thousand years, it would be eaten away by rust, and you can see there isn't a bit of it. There's a spell on this iron.
"I suppose," he added, with a sigh and a sideways glance, "there's no use telling you this is no proper adventure for a young lady? No use offering to take you home, and come back later with Mr. Jonas and Lord Skelbrooke?"
"Not the least good in the world, I thank you very much. I mean to see this all the way through."
The door stood open about six inches, just enough for the hobs to pass through, but it was necessary for Jed to shove it a bit further, in order to make room for himself and Sera.
They stepped through into a lofty chamber, evidently a natural cavern, much enlarged and modified. It was undoubtedly a tomb, and by no means a primitive one. All the stalactites and stalagmites had been carved to form stylized pillars, a series of marble vaults, very ornate, lined the original walls, and down the center of the chamber marched a procession of onyx catafalques, though any bones there might have been had long since turned to dust. A second arch appeared to lead into another similar chamber.
"Catacombs!" said Jed, with a kindling eye. "And unless I am mistaken, the very same Panterran ruins that old Mr. Barebones described in his paper. I guess he wasn't such a crank as the people in these parts think."
"But why didn't he ever show this place to anyone?" Sera wondered, as they strolled through the chamber, examining the mysterious letters and the figures carved in high relief along the walls: men in floor-length coats and long, tight breeches; women in narrow, frilled skirts and necklines so low they left very little covered; preposterous hats for the men, even more preposterous wigs for the women. "If he had done so, surely no one would have dared to doubt him then."
"It may be these caverns lead down into the hobgoblins' tunnels," said Jed. "In that case, he didn't want people to come exploring down here and disturbing the hobs. He did have a fondness for the creatures, you know."
"As well he might," breathed Sera. She stopped where she stood, clutching at Jed's arm. "Jedidiah! The hobgoblins knew we took an interest in the ruins, and they led us to this place on purpose. They must be much more intelligent than people suppose.
"But how are we to prove that to the people up above?" she asked, the light dying from her eyes. "Who will believe that we didn't stumble on this place by accident, and then convince ourselves that the hobgoblins meant us to find it?"
"I don't know," said Jed. "But it appears the hobs may have something in mind. See over there by that archway? It looks like we haven't yet seen everything they mean to show us."
Indeed, the two goblins who had already escorted them so far were now jumping about impatiently and gesturing wildly.
Sera gasped. She had been too occupied, up until now, with the treacherous steps and the wonders of the tomb to take a good look at the hobgoblins escorting her. "It looks like one of them wears . . . yes, one of them wears some sort of garment, a short little coat, I think! I never heard yet that hobgoblins were inclined to dress themselves."
"Neither did I," said Jed, "but we already know these native hobs are different from the kind back home."
"Very true," said Sera, continuing to clutch at his arm, so great was her excitement. "And it seems to be that we may be about to discover just exactly how different they are."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
In which our Story continues in a Subterranean vein.
Jed and Sera followed their queer hobgoblin escorts through one branching chamber after another, until they came to a tunnel, so low and so narrow, it could hardly be meant for full-sized Men. Sera had only to lower her head, but Jedidiah, being so much taller, had to bend over at the waist in order to enter, and he continued on thereafter with a pronounced stoop.
The wide skirts of Sera's gown brushed the sides of the passage as she walked, and the hem kept catching on projecting roots and sharp-edged rocks. It will be little more than a filthy rag by the time that I come out of here, she thought, with a sigh. It did seem that the silk gown was doomed to destruction, one way or the other.
Tunnel after narrow tunnel, chamber after chamber, opened off that wider way. Most of the chambers were dark, but in every tunnel Sera saw tiny woven hanging baskets, stuffed with a phosphorescent green moss, which lent a dim illumination. The goblins were artisans, she realized, and these crude little lanthorns bore witness to their craft.
"If hobs can see in the dark like cats and dwarves—as I suppose they must—I daresay these passages seem bright enough to them," she said, pausing for Jed to catch up with her.
She directed her lanthorn into the nearest chamber. On shelves and niches all around that room were nests of straw and woven twigs. A sort of drowsy twittering, that rose to an irritated chattering, seemed to indicate she had inadvertently disturbed the sleeping inhabitants. Sera withdrew her lanthorn, and she and Jed continued on, following their hobgoblin hosts.
Somewhere, a long way off, Sera heard a roaring and a booming, like the rush of mighty waters. It came to her then that these tunnels must indeed open into the Deeping Caves, and what she heard now was the rush of an incoming tide echoing and reechoing through cavernous chambers. But as the tunnel led gradually downward, the roar of the waters faded.
Sera soon grew weary, walking with her head down and her neck bent lest she brush against the rocky ceiling, but she said nothing, imagining how very much worse it must be for Jed, following behind her half in a crouch. "For the Fates' sake," she heard him say, "if you get too tired or you want to go back, just say the word."
Just as though, Sera thought indignantly, she were some frail and fading female. "Thank you," she said, "but I shall do very well."
As they walked on, it seemed to Sera that there must be some plan or design to the branching tunnels, the many small adjoining chambers, and though the plan itself continued to elude her, a faint sense of pattern and form took hold of her mind. A dwarf or a gnome might comprehend the plan, as it would also take a dwarf or a gnome (Sera thought) to appreciate the full magnitude of the hobgoblins' labors.
"There must be hundreds of tunnels here under the hill, and if they extend under the entire town as well, there may be thousands of hobgoblins, perhaps tens of thousands," she exclaimed. "For all their accommodations strike us as primitive, I believe we are traveling now through a great hobgoblin city. But how do they contrive to live down here? They can't survive solely on rats and mice and moles, nor the little bits of food they may scavenge up above—not such a multitude of them."
"We know these tunnels open on the sea; we could smell the saltwater a short time back," Jed said behind her. "They may eat fish, and the roots of plants and trees up closer to the surface. That would explain your rosebush. Though none of that seems enough." Jed had also been considering the matter, as they went along. "Sera, I have it! They eat old wood. It's not casual mischief that leads them to gnaw at the posts in the foundations of the buildings up above."
"If they eat wood," said Sera, panting a bit, for they had come such a long way already and the hobgoblins continued to set a rapid pace, "why don't they steal footstools and walking sticks, instead of the frippery items that so strongly appeal to them." Then the answer came to her, and she wondered why she had never guessed before. "They do eat live rosebushes when they can get them, but as for old wood: I think they eat termites and wood worms, as some animals do, and they gnaw the posts to get at them."
At long last, the tunnel opened into a high-ceilinged chamber. With a deep sigh, Sera assumed an upright posture. The ache of cramped muscles was immediately forgotten as she glanced around her, and an extraordinary sight met her eyes, rendering her momentarily speechless. Jed came out of the tunnel to stand behind her, groaning with relief as he unbent. Then he, too, was struck silent.
This chamber was
vast—on an altogether grander scale than the caverns up above—and illuminated by torches and bon-fires. Amazingly, it resembled nothing so much as a crowded marketplace: aisle upon aisle of stalls and shops made up of twigs and twisted roots, and a great multitude of chattering hobgoblins running about from one place to another, conducting their business.
Sera's eyes grew wider and wider as she attempted to take it all in. There were stalls displaying more of the basket lanthorns, and others heaped with the glowing green moss. Sera spotted a goblin selling crude wooden bowls, and another hawking mats made of plaited straw and colorful bits of thread and yarn. There were stalls offering shells; peddlars selling feathers and shining pebbles; and shops displaying fans, silver scent balls, and other trinkets, evidently stolen from the town up above. There was one stall, less pleasant to behold, in the manner of a goblin butcher shop, with rats and mice and small birds (and something that looked suspiciously like a skinned ferret) hanging from the twiggy rafters, like so many plucked fowl or sides of beef. In an adjoining booth, an old she-goblin hawked tiny garments sewn from the skins of moles and ground-squirrels.
And by now it was abundantly clear that the hobs had taken to clothing themselves, after their own fashion. About a third still ran about naked, but the rest wore anything from a single garment to an entire velvet gown or satin suit—all very gaudy and fine, adorned as they were with ribbons and laces, beads and silver chains and bits of gold braid. Strange, even fantastical apparel, these garments of the hobs, though Sera fancied she saw some resemblance to the fashions worn by Men and gnomes and dwarves.
Eventually, she recovered her power of speech. "Jed, if we had any reservations before, there can be no doubt now that the hobs are truly Rational creatures. This goes far beyond imitation."
Hobgoblin Night: Mask and Dagger 2 Page 22