Goblins and Snowflakes

by Melanie Karsak

  “All right,” I said softly. “But you must promise to stay back and follow my lead.”

  “Anywhere.”

  I chuckled. “Anywhere? Very well, Master Boatswain. Let’s head to the goblin market.”

  Chapter 10: The Goblin Market

  Archie was Right. The Goblins would try to double-cross me. The smartest thing to do was to get there first. I lifted a page from Archie’s notes and stuck it in my pocket. My mind reeled at the thought that I was about to go confront a goblin on Christmas Eve no less. How was this even possible? How could this be real? Small moments from my life replayed themselves. Between Uncle Horace and Father, there had been awkward conversations about Uncle Horace’s scholarly purists. Even Father’s paintings—and when she had been alive, Mother’s sculptures—often depicted the supernatural. I remembered half conversations, odd looks, and fleeting shadows. I recalled seeing things I could never quite explain, people who made my skin grow cold, and others whose eyes were deep and rich with wisdom…or was it magic? Archie was right, it had been there all this time, right under my nose. Only now had it found me.

  We could hear the others in the parlor as we slipped outside. The sun had set. Moonbeams gleamed onto the powdery white canvas, making the snowflakes shimmer crystalline. The tall, leafless trees cast long shadows on the property. If I hadn’t been terrified, it would have been beautiful.

  Wordlessly, we entered the forest. Deep in the woods, I spied the tents. No one met us on the road.

  I looked up at Archie who nodded.

  I inhaled deeply, turned from the path, and moved through the trees. As we neared the little semi-circle of tents, I caught the smell of a campfire. It was quiet tonight. No merry songs. No calls to come buy. Just the crackle and pop of the fire.

  My skin rose in goosebumps as we neared.

  The orange, purple, blue, and green tents glowed from the firelight within. Swirling gold and silver designs were woven into the fabric. Colorful banners hung between the tents. Small mirrors and chimes hung from the drapes. The small bells and chimes jangled in the breeze. I took a deep breath, feeling the chill of the winter air deep inside my body.

  “I’m here,” I called.

  There was movement inside one of the tents, and a moment later, a hand reached from between the drapes, pushing the fabric aside. He stepped out slowly. He was taller than the others, an imposing figure. He wore a hooded robe like the merchants, but when he turned his head, his cowl fell back slightly, and I spotted his gleaming yellow eyes.

  The goblin king.

  “Yes, here you are,” the goblin king said, his voice deep and dark. “As is young Boatswain…and his pistol.”

  I glanced at Archie. He stood with his hand resting just inside his coat.

  “So we are,” Archie said, his voice hard.

  The goblin king shifted. I could feel his smirk even though I couldn’t see it. He dipped into his pocket and pulled out the windup key.

  “Clever design, Miss Rossetti. Enchanted gnomes. Gnomes. Of course, there are such creatures in this world. Real gnomes. They are not cheery lads like your little creations, Miss Rossetti. They are darker, older. But still, a clever design. We sensed a Boatswain hand in the mix.”

  “I’m not interested in your opinion. Give me the key,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “And my book?”

  I pulled the book from my pocket and showed it to the goblin king.

  He chuckled. “Ah yes, finally, our tome returns to us. He thought he was so clever. But now the book is mine.”

  “Who was so clever?”

  “One who would bargain with me. One who would learn our spells. The one who stole the book. But he got his. And he learned his lesson well. He learns it still every time he sees the moon. But he should have known better. One should never bargain—“

  “With goblin men,” I finished, casting a glance at Archie.

  “The book,” the goblin king said, extending his hand. He reached across the fire, his arm seeming to elongate to clear the space between us. While his cloak fluttered in the flames, it did not catch fire. His fingers had long, black claws. His skin was deep green colors, the blue-black veins bulging from under his skin.

  The windup key lay in his hand. I stepped closer, and moving carefully, I set the book in his palm, snatching the key at the same time.

  The goblin king laughed then pulled his hand back. He slid his hand across the cover of the book. “The one who stole my book…he, too, thought he’d made an honest bargain with goblin men. But, as you already seem to know, we goblins are not often true to our word. As I already said, one must never bargain with goblin men.”

  At that, he gestured.

  Gasping, I turned to see goblins standing behind Archie and me, blocking our path.

  Archie pulled his gun and leveled it on the goblin king.

  “Keep your word, or there will be a reckoning. The Mechanicals will not forgive you,” Archie said.

  The goblin king laughed. “Well, well, well, young Boatswain. What a fiery spirit. What are the Mechanicals to me? Nothing. You come and go, but I remain. It is an unfortunate matter, Miss Rossetti, that you have found your way into my web. But here we are. I have what I need. And now, I will have your silence.”

  Archie cocked the hammer on his gun. “You will leave, or you will have nothing.”

  The goblin king hissed at him then waved for the others behind us to attack.

  “No,” I screamed, holding up my hand. “No.”

  The goblin king laughed. “What could you possibly have to say that would change my mind, Miss Rossetti. Or perhaps you’d like to make another deal?”

  “I…yes,” I said, stalling. I pulled the sheet of paper from my pocket. “Yes, indeed, another deal. For Archie’s life.” I scanned the words quickly, engraving them on my memory.

  “And what will you bargain with now?” the goblin king asked.

  I sneered. “Oh, you must be confused. It’s you who needs to do the bargaining,” I said then began to chant:

  “Moonlight riddle, casting down.

  Fix their feet upon the ground.

  Tie their tongues and bind their hands.

  To my spirit leashed, I now demand.

  Goblins damned, I rule you all.

  And now you will begin to fall.”

  “What? What is this?” the goblin king hissed.

  A sharp wind swept through the forest. The chimes on the tents jangled.

  “Moonlight riddle, casting down.

  Fix their feet upon the ground.

  Tie their tongues and bind their hands.

  To my spirit leashed, I now demand.

  Goblins damned, I rule you all.

  And now you will begin to fall.”

  “Silence, girl. How? How did you learn?” the goblin king hissed, stepping closer to me.

  I cleared my throat, met the goblin king’s eyes, then recited the last lines of the spell:

  “One by one, ash and bone

  Shall now be rendered into stone.”

  Behind me, a goblin screamed.

  And then another.

  And another.

  I cast a glance over my shoulder.

  The goblin men were turning to stone. They had been caught mid-attack. Their eyes wide, mouths open, arms raised and talons ready.

  The others paused and looked at one another.

  I glared at them then repeated loudly:

  “One by one, ash and bone

  Shall now be rendered into stone.”

  “Run, brothers,” the goblin who had made the pact with me hissed to his brethren. “Run while you can.”

  “But the king,” another protested.

  “Will leave us to die. Flee,” he yelled.

  “Leifch, you traitor,” the goblin king growled at the merchant.

  The merchant goblin cast a glance at me then snapped his fingers and disappeared.

  Still, I spoke the spell.

  “One by one, ash an
d bone

  Shall now be rendered into stone.”

  Another goblin shrieked then turned to stone.

  The wind blew harder.

  I raised my voice. My words echoed through the woods.

  “One by one, ash and bone

  Shall now be rendered into stone.”

  The others snapped their fingers, and in whirlwinds of snowflakes, they disappeared one by one.

  The goblin king growled. “You will pay for this.”

  “I will not. We have read your book, goblin. We know all the spells. How about the Dominance Spell? Shall I recite that? I will make you my servant. Run, goblin king, while you still can. And never come near a Rossetti or Boatswain again, or you will surely pay,” I warned.

  At that, the goblin huffed. He stepped toward me. The wind blew back his hood, revealing his monstrous face with green skin, bulging veins, yellow eyes, wispy hair, and cat-like ears. He wore a crown of tiny skulls on his head.

  “Leave. Now,” I told him.

  He sneered at me then with a snap of his fingers, disappeared. To my surprise, the tents and fire vanished along with him.

  The wind calmed, and the snow began to fall slowly in fat snowflakes. The moonlight shimmered on the forest floor. From the direction of the village of Twickenham, I caught the sound of Silent Night on the wind.

  Shaking my head, I turned to Archie. Had that just happened? Had that really happened?

  “I think it’s safe now,” Archie said.

  I nodded.

  “Scarlette, you were so brave. You faced the goblin king.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I will be able to live with myself if I don’t propose to you this instant.”

  “Well then,” I whispered, feeling my heart beat wildly in my chest. “I guess we better return to Strawberry Hill.”

  “Why?” Archie asked.

  “Because if you want to be my husband, you need to ask for my hand.”

  Archie chuckled. “What are we waiting for?” he asked, taking my hand.

  We turned only to find ourselves faced to face with the stone goblins.

  “What are we going to do about them?” Archie asked.

  I grinned. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 11: Happy Christmas to All

  “Scarlette!” My father crossed the foyer, his arms outstretched. Wrapping me into a hug, he squeezed me tight then pressed his lips against my cheek. “Where have you been?”

  “Oh. I…Master Boatswain III was helping me with a project.”

  My father stepped back. “Master Boatswain—oh, Archie. How are you?” my father said, casting a glance at Archie who was standing nervously behind me, his hat in his hands.

  “Very well, sir. Very well. Pleased to meet you again,” he told my father as he reached out to shake his hand.

  “What mischief has my daughter gotten you into?”

  “The usual kind. Tinkering automatons and dueling goblins.”

  My father laughed. “A jokester like your grandfather,” he said then turned to me. “Tell your father what project you were working on.”

  “It’s a surprise for Uncle Horace.”

  “A surprise for me?” Horace said as he joined us. He was festively attired in a green silk doublet with red flowers, mistletoe sprigs, and golden bells embroidered on the lapel.

  I grinned. “Yes. A Christmas gift, of sorts. Come,” I said, then motioned for father and Uncle Horace to follow Archie and me outside.

  Father and Uncle Horace gave one another skeptical looks then followed along. In the drive, a wagon was waiting. The contents were covered by a tarp. Two of the workers stood nearby.

  “Uncle Horace, may I present your new garden statues,” I said, motioning to the men.

  The men pulled off the tarp with a flourish to reveal four fearsome-looking goblin statues.

  Uncle Horace clapped his hands with glee.

  “Scarlette!” he exclaimed. “How wonderful. How fierce they are. They will adorn my drive and keep away all bad spirits.”

  “Like a strawman,” Archie said.

  “Apt, apt,” I agreed with a chuckle.

  “They are so monstrously perfect. Wherever did you get them?”

  “Father Christmas, of course,” I replied pertly which made both Uncle Horace and Father laugh.

  My father put his arm around me and pulled me close. “Dear girl. What a perfect gift for your uncle. How true to legend they are,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the stone goblin men.

  “Verisimilitude,” I said.

  Father nodded. “Very true to life.” Father’s brow crinkled as he studied the statues. And for the first time, I understood why. Unlike me, Father had known all along that goblins were real. He may have even seen one before. He shook his head. “It’s bloody cold out here. Horace, send the statues around, and let’s go inside for a mulled wine.”

  “Marvelous. Marvelous,” Uncle Horace said, patting one of the goblins on the head. He crossed the space to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Always full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “Well, you know me, never idle.”

  He laughed. “Certainly not. I say, it is cold. Let’s head inside,” Uncle Horace said. I linked my arm in his, and we walked back in.

  As soon as we entered the house, the sound of merry laughter, holiday music, and cheery conversation rolled from the parlor. Uncle Horace had a packed house, and a Christmas Eve celebration was in full swing. For once, I was excited to stay at Strawberry Hill and celebrate.

  “I will miss you when you go,” Uncle Horace told me.

  “I’ll miss you too,” I replied.

  “Oh, but I think you have some new adventures waiting for you in London,” Uncle Horace said, looking over his shoulder at Archie and Father. At that very moment, Archie stepped alongside my father.

  “Mister Rossetti, might I have a word for just a moment before we go in?” Archie asked, casting a glance at me. He smiled, cleared his throat, and then began speaking to my father in low tones.

  “I certainly hope so,” I replied to Uncle Horace.

  The footmen opened the door to the parlor. Inside, everyone was festively dressed for the holiday, wearing red and green waistcoats, red satin gowns, and other fine frocks trimmed with gold thread. Someone was playing the pianoforte, filling the room with the bright sound of Christmas carols. I caught the scents of mulled wine and wassail. The hearth burned off the cold—and the lingering anxiety that hung around the edges of my senses. It was over. The goblin king would never come again. And I had a new future ahead of me. What a merry, merry way to ring in the holiday.

  “Happy Christmas, Uncle,” I said, setting my head on Uncle Horace’s shoulder.

  He placed a quick kiss on my forehead. “Happy Christmas, Scarlette.”

  Two days after Christmas, I made one final stop in town before Father and I returned to London. The little bell above the door at The Two Sisters Doll Shop and Toy Emporium rang when I entered. The place was decidedly quiet.

  “Scarlette,” Lizzie called cheerfully. “Laura, come here. It’s Scarlette.”

  Laura appeared from the back, pushing her spectacles up her nose and leaving a streak of white paint on her cheek in the process. She wiped her hands off on her apron.

  “You’ve got paint on your face,” Lizzie told her.

  “Bah,” Laura said absently.

  “I can’t stay,” I said. “In fact, I’m sorry to say that I’ve come to say farewell.”

  “Alas,” Laura lamented. “So, you’re father has returned?”

  I nodded. “We’re leaving for London tomorrow morning.”

  “We’ll miss you,” Lizzie said.

  Laura nodded in agreement. “But we’ve taken your advice and drafted an advertisement for an apprentice. We’re sorry it can’t be you.”

  “As am I. But I fully intend to take everything you’ve learned with me,” I said, tapping my head. “Speaking of which,” I added, dipping into my pocket. I pulled out the win
dup key and handed it to Laura. “For the clockwork gnome.”

  “Oh! We thought we’d lost it. We didn’t know how to break it to you.”

  “No. It was my mistake. Just make sure you wind him up every day.”

  “Oh, yes. Because he’s magical,” Laura said jokingly. “We will. If not just to remember you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Lady Ashcroft was here for the piano girl. She was very, very pleased. Thank you so much, Scarlette. We can never repay you for all of your help,” Laura said.

  “No payment is needed. I should thank you. You have no idea what you’ve given me.”

  “And where is Master Boatswain today?” Lizzie asked.

  “At Strawberry Hill with my father.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Laura said, a knowing look in her eye.

  I chuckled. “Twickenham has been very good to me. First, it brought me the two of you, then Annabeth, the townspeople, my gnomes…and a proposal.”

  Both sisters gasped.

  “A proposal?” Laura said.

  I nodded. “And Father has agreed. Nothing is planned yet. We must get more acquainted with one another. But yes.”

  Lizzie laughed. “Love strikes quickly sometimes. That’s how it was with us and Brian and Bryant.”

  “Brian and Bryant? Now, there is serendipity.”

  “So it was,” Laura said with a soft smile, the wispy look of remembrance in her eyes. “Well then, we won’t keep you from your father—”

  “And your fiancé,” Lizzie added.

  I smiled softly then kissed the sisters on their cheeks. “Be well. And be sure to write me every week. Do you promise?”

  They both nodded.

  “And come to the wedding. When the time arrives.”

  Again, they nodded.

  I hugged them once more. When I was done, I looked over Laura’s shoulder. There, at the very back of the workshop on the bench, were my gnomes. “Be good, my boys. And treat Laura and Lizzie well.”

  The sisters laughed.

  Their backs turned, they didn’t see when the little clockwork gnome waved goodbye to me.