Goblins on the Prowl

by Bruce Coville

  “William, get down,” I called. “Get down!”

  At the same time, I backed up. When I bumped into the iron bars, I turned and slipped out of the cage.

  “William! The toad is moving!”

  He continued to chant.

  I threw a candle at him, trying to get his attention. I missed, and he kept on chanting. I flung the mirror to the floor, hoping a loud noise would bring William out of his trance. It worked. He started, as if roused from sleep, then cried, “What’s going on?”

  “The toad is coming to life! Get down, get down!”

  The toad flexed its shoulders.

  With a cry of horror William slid to the floor, then squeezed through the bars. “What have we done?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know. But whatever it was, we didn’t do it alone. Something put you into a trance.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later!”

  “Should we run?”

  I shook my head. “As long as the toad is still in the cage, we should be all right. We’d better stay and see what happens.”

  We watched the toad. It hunched its shoulders.

  Its nostrils twitched.

  Then it opened its eyes.

  Though its body remained stone gray, the eyes—bigger than apples—were gold with flecks of brown. The creature blinked twice, then stretched its right front leg forward. The candle William had placed on its head clattered to the stone floor.

  The toad’s body began to shake, almost as if it was going to throw up. I heard a loud clunk but couldn’t see what caused it. And I wasn’t about to go look, because next the toad used its front legs to grasp a pair of the iron bars. It pulled on them, clearly straining.

  With a horrible creaking sound the bars bent to the toad’s strength.

  William and I backed away. As we did, the toad leaned sideways and began to pull itself through the opening.

  Moving as one, William and I ducked into the shadows beyond the circle of the candlelight. I wanted to run but couldn’t tear my eyes from what was happening. But when the toad turned and leaped in our direction, we did run.

  We moved too late. I heard a thwap! and a whoosh, followed by a horrified cry. When I turned to look, I saw that the toad had nabbed William as if he was a giant fly! My friend was now clamped in the toad’s mouth, head sticking out on one side, feet on the other. He bellowed and squirmed, but the toad’s grip never loosened.

  I stood, frozen in horror, terrified that the monster was about to swallow William. Fortunately, William was too big for that. Or maybe it was just that the toad had him sideways and couldn’t get him down.

  “Fauna!” William cried. “Fauna, help!”

  Coming to my senses, I pulled out my knife and started toward the toad. I was scared, but that was my friend in the monster’s mouth!

  The creature turned and with a single hop made it halfway to the door that led to the drawbridge. The thud of its landing shook the floor.

  I rushed forward, shouting, “Let him go, you monster!”

  The toad turned to look at me. The gaze of those golden eyes stopped me in my tracks. Then I remembered that I was wearing Solomon’s Collar. Had the creature understood me?

  Holding my knife in front of me, I growled, “Put my friend down.”

  I hoped the toad would talk back and accidentally release William. Instead, it narrowed its eyes and stared at me.

  Until that moment I hadn’t known a toad could look surprised.

  “Let me go!” howled William, shaking his head from side to side. “Let me go!”

  Behind me someone shouted, “Hey, that my ­William!”

  Turning, I saw Herky standing on the banister. Flinging himself into the air, he cried, “Let go of my William, you booger!”

  The little goblin landed on the toad’s butt, scampered up its spine, and began to jump up and down on its head.

  Herky’s arrival jolted me into action. Waving my knife, I started forward again. As I did, the toad took another mighty leap and struck the door full force. The door buckled, and the toad sailed through. Herky almost slipped off but by grabbing one of the toad’s warts managed to hold on.

  I wondered if the creature was made of some kind of living stone. It had to be tougher than the average toad or it would have broken its nose bashing through the door that way.

  The drawbridge was still down, which was good. If it had been raised, the monster might have bashed through that, too, and landed in the moat. Even if it had sunk straight to the bottom, it probably would have made it to the other side, since anything that had tried to bite it would have lost some teeth. But one of those huge things I’d seen swimming there would probably have chomped off William’s head and feet before the toad climbed up on the far bank.

  “Stop, you bad toad!” shrieked Herky, who still clung to the toad’s skull. “Stop, stop!”

  I raced after them, but the toad was too fast. Each leap carried it ahead by another ten or fifteen feet, almost as if it were flying. Every time it landed, the bridge shuddered and boards splintered and broke.

  Clearing the bridge in four mighty hops, the toad vanished into the darkness.

  The last things I heard were Herky shouting “Stop, you bad toad!” and William’s desperate cry of “Fauna! Get Igor!”

  I wanted to go after them but couldn’t follow the trail in the dark without a torch. And I knew I couldn’t defeat the toad on my own. So I did as William asked and headed back to get Igor.

  When I entered the Great Hall, I found Karl standing in front of the cage. He was dressed in a nightshirt and holding the book. “What in the world have you done?” he cried, shaking the book at me. “I tried to tell everyone this was dangerous! What happened to the toad?” He looked around. “And where is William?”

  Before I could answer, Igor thundered into the room. Unlike Karl, he was dressed in daytime clothes—his usual fur coat and boots. “What happen?” he bellowed. “Where William?” He looked at the cage, then added, “Where toad?”

  I started to answer, but before I could get three words out, a voice from above called, “What in the name of Hercules’ bright pink underwear is going on down there?”

  It was the Baron. Like Karl, he was dressed in a nightshirt. Holding a candle before him, he tottered down the stairs.

  “The toad came to life!” I shouted before anyone could interrupt me. “It wrapped its tongue around William and hopped away with him! We have to go after them!”

  “Good heavens!” cried the Baron. “How in the world did that happen?”

  I wanted to answer, but half expected Hulda to show up in the next few seconds. Then I realized that, unlike the others, she would not have heard the commotion. So I started to talk.

  The Baron, Karl, and Igor listened, wide-eyed, as I told the details of the last few minutes. I would have preferred to hide my part in it, but with Solomon’s Collar ready to choke me if I told a lie, it was safer—and faster—to tell the truth.

  “Hard to tell whether it was what William was reading or what Fauna was doing that brought the creature to life,” Karl said when I finished.

  “Likely some combination of the two,” replied the Baron.

  “Blame us later!” I cried. “Right now let’s go get William!”

  The Baron turned his great, watery eyes on me. “My dear Fauna, there is nothing I desire more than to rescue young William. But we have to know what we’re dealing with! No point in rushing into the darkness with no idea what we’re facing.”

  “But the toad might eat him!”

  Karl shook his head. “If it had wanted to eat ­William, it could have done so right here. You’re tough, Fauna, but I doubt you could have stopped him. It. Whatever. The thing could have shot its tongue out again and used William to knock you over. Instead, it wanted to get out of here.
” He ­wrinkled his brow. “And for some reason it took William with it. The question is, why ?”

  “That what Igor want to know!” shouted Igor, stomping in a circle and waving his bear over his head.

  “Had no idea there was a drawer in that pedestal,” the Baron muttered. “Where’s that mirror you mentioned, Fauna?”

  I found it on the floor and handed it to him. I blushed as I did. It had cracked when I threw it down to bring William out of his trance.

  “Almost big enough to be a shield,” muttered the Baron. “Plain-looking thing, though. Wonder what this cord was for?”

  “What difference does it make?” I cried. “We have to go get William!”

  “Yes! Yes! Go get William!” roared Igor.

  “The more we know about the toad before we start, the better our chances of succeeding,” Karl replied. Turning to the Baron, he said. “What do the castle records say about the toad?”

  The Baron tugged at the ends of his mustache and said, “Haven’t looked at ’em in ages. The thing was brought here for safekeeping when I was a little boy. Never seemed like you needed to do much to keep it safe, except maybe dust it on occasion. I don’t remember any warnings about it being likely to come to life.”

  Karl sighed. “I’d better dig into the archives. Did you notice the message inscribed on the pedestal?”

  “Didn’t even look,” huffed the Baron, moving to see what Karl meant.

  I went with him. Standing beside him, I could see the words that had been hidden until now by the toad’s body: BEWARE OF HELAGON.

  I shuddered. The goblins who had searched my cottage the day before had talked about Helagon. But the toad had been covering this warning for almost as long as the Baron had been alive. How old was this Helagon person if he had been dangerous even back then?

  “I’ve seen that name in one of the books,” said Karl. “If I remember correctly, it was not connected with anything good.”

  “Wait a minute,” said the Baron. He raised his forefinger as if he was about to make an important point. “I remember my father saying something about a man—a wizard, actually—named Helagon. He’d come here asking about—”

  The Baron made a gasping sound.

  Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.

  Goblins find warrior women fascinating but slightly terrifying. We never want to be on their bad side.

  —Stanklo the Scribbler

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BWOONHIWDA

  Karl rushed to the Baron’s side.

  “Did he faint?” I asked.

  Karl shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he was about to tell us something that someone else didn’t want us to hear.”

  I dropped to my knees and patted the old man’s cheeks. “Baron! Baron, wake up!”

  He moaned but didn’t rouse. His skin had gone dead white.

  “Igor, fetch some water!” Karl ordered.

  “Water!” Igor grunted. “Good idea!” He clumped off in the direction of the kitchen.

  I put my ear to the Baron’s chest. His breathing was steady, but his heartbeat seemed weak. Since I didn’t know how his heartbeat usually sounded, it was hard to tell what this meant. Even so, it scared me.

  Igor returned with a large pitcher. He handed it to Karl, who dipped in his fingers, then flicked a few drops of water onto the Baron’s face.

  Nothing happened.

  Karl scooped out a handful and dribbled it over the Baron’s face.

  Nothing.

  He dumped the entire pitcher over the Baron’s head.

  The old man didn’t even twitch. The only change was that now his hair was slicked back and his mustache was dripping.

  “Not good,” Igor said, squeezing his bear to his chest.

  “Not good, and clearly a magical sleep,” Karl replied.

  I put my ear back to the Baron’s chest.

  His heartbeat was weaker than before.

  I grabbed Karl’s arm. “Listen,” I said urgently.

  He did, and his face grew almost as pale as the ­Baron’s. “He’s dying,” he whispered. He covered his face with his hands and began to weep.

  I headed for the stairs.

  “Where Fauna go?” Igor bellowed.

  “Be right back!” I shouted.

  I raced up to my room, dug into my coat pocket, and pulled out the blue goo Granny Pinchbottom had given me. Her “specipe”—the one I had interrupted—had been for something to keep someone from dying. She’d said she had no idea if it would work or not, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  Only, how the heck was I supposed to use the stuff?

  I hurtled back down the stairs. Karl still knelt beside the Baron. Igor was clutching his bear so tightly that if it had been alive, he would have strangled it. I dropped down beside the Baron and broke off a chunk of the goo about half the size of my thumb. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled open the Baron’s mouth and shoved it in.

  “What are you doing?” Karl screamed.

  “Quiet! Let’s see if this does any good.”

  I held my breath, growing more fearful as the seconds passed. Then I saw it. . . . Color was returning to the Baron’s cheeks! I pressed my ear to his chest a third time, then said to Karl, “Listen!”

  He put his own ear to the Baron’s chest. “His heartbeat is better!” He looked at me suspiciously. “What did you put into his mouth?”

  I held up the goo.

  “What is it?”

  “It was supposed to be something called Restore Life. I got it from Granny Pinchbottom.”

  Karl looked like he wanted to argue but didn’t know what to say. Before he could say anything at all, a squeaky voice cried, “Herky back! Herky back!”

  Looking up, I saw the little goblin bound through the door the toad had smashed open. To my surprise he was followed by a very big woman. She was about Karl’s height but probably weighed three times as much. She wore a metal helmet that sported a pair of curved horns. From beneath the helmet flowed two thick blond braids that hung past her knees. Several knives were inserted into the braids, all in sheaths, of course. Woven into the bottom of each braid was a heavy-looking ball.

  She took one look at the empty cage and let out a shriek that shattered the glass pitcher Igor had brought water in.

  “Sowwy!” she said. “When I get excited, I tend to bweak gwass. My name is Bwoonhiwda, by the way,” she added, putting out an enormous hand for Karl to shake.

  “Brunhilda?” Karl asked, wincing at the power of her grip.

  The woman shot him a glare and said, very clearly, “Bwoonhiwda . . . just wike I said!”

  “Are we under attack?” cried a familiar voice.

  It was Hulda, and the fact that Bwoonhiwda’s shriek had woken her was proof of how powerful it had been. Hulda bustled down the stairs now in a white nightdress. Her silvery hair was unpinned, and it flowed past her waist. I had had no idea it was so long.

  “Are we under attack?” she repeated. Then she spotted the Baron. With a cry she hurried to his side and got to her knees. “What happened?” she demanded as she stroked his forehead.

  After Karl loudly explained, she said, “There’s magic at work here, and not good magic either.” Looking past him, she noticed the big woman. “And who are you?” she demanded.

  I turned to study the woman more closely myself. For a top she wore something made of metal. She had a large bosom, and I could not imagine that the armor was comfortable. She wore leather trousers and clutched a spear. A long cloak, bright red, hung from her shoulders.

  “Yes, who are you?” asked Karl, repeating Hulda’s question.

  “And why are you here?” demanded Hulda.

  “Herky bringed her!” cried the goblin, dancing about in excitement.


  “Herky!” I said sternly. “Where is William?”

  His shoulders drooped. “Toad still got William.”

  “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

  “Herky tried! But big branch bonk Herky. Branch knock Herky off toad. Herky land on head. Another bonk! Bonks made Herky sleep. When Herky open eyes again, toad gone!” He started to cry. “Herky bad to let toad go! Bad, bad, bad little Herky!”

  I sighed. “You’re not bad, Herky. You did better than me.”

  “I found him in the woods, wooking dazed,” Bwoonhiwda said.

  As she spoke I noticed Igor gazing at her as if she was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

  “What were you doing in the forest to begin with?” Karl asked.

  “The queen’s wizahd pwedicted a pwobwem with the stone toad. So the queen sent me to wook into it. Awas, I see I am too wate.”

  “Why would the queen send a woman to investigate a situation like that?” Karl asked.

  Bwoonhiwda shot him such a look, I was surprised his hair didn’t burst into flames.

  Karl, who sometimes acted as if he knew something about everything, blushed. But he didn’t give up. “May we have some proof that you really come from the queen?” said Karl.

  Bwoonhiwda reached into her cloak and pulled out a scroll that she handed to Karl. He unrolled the parchment. When I stepped next to him, he pointed to a blob of red wax at the bottom. It had the image of a dragon pressed into it. “The royal seal,” he told me. “Queen Wilhelmina really did send her.”

  “Good! Since her job is to look into problems with the stone toad, let’s go look for the thing !”

  “One thing at a time, Fauna!” Turning back to Bwoonhiwda, he said, “How did you end up here at this time of night?”

  Bwoonhiwda thumped the butt of her spear against the floor. Standing very straight, she said, “I had made camp and gone to bed, pwanning to come to you at sunwise. As I was dwifting off to sweep, a howwid commotion woke me. When I went to investigate, I found this wittle gobwin. He had been knocked sensewess.”

  I considered pointing out that Herky was senseless even when awake, but decided to keep that to myself.