Poppy felt a wave of relief at the memory.
Then she saw a shadow detach itself from one of the boulders.
Poppy’s heart lurched in her chest as the shadow slipped along the wall and out of sight.
“Everything all right there?” Glitch asked slyly.
She turned to see him watching her closely, one eyebrow raised in a very irritating manner.
“Fine,” she said coolly. “Except that I still don’t see my little brother—”
Before she could finish, Muddle burst through one of the doors and ran toward them.
“Hi again!” he said, grinning cheerfully. “I know you said I couldn’t come with you, but I kept asking and asking and asking and Bother finally said, ‘Okay, okay, just go,’ so here I am—”
“Pschwaz!” Glitch’s eyes widened with alarm as a draft of air swept through the open door.
Muddle stopped in his headlong rush, his mouth hanging open in dismay. “Oops.”
For a long, tense moment, Glitch and Muddle stared as the candles sputtered dangerously in the breeze. Poppy had just noticed how the leaping light made the goblin carving seem almost alive, when several candles and all the oil lamps went out completely.
A low murmur swept through the cave.
Poppy cocked her head to one side. It sounded vaguely like voices, but definitely not human ones, and there was a throbbing sense of . . . what? Worry, she thought finally. Dread. Maybe even fear . . .
Glitch ran over to the door, slammed it shut, then stood still, clearly holding his breath. Poppy just had time to notice how odd it was to see the goblin carving above Glitch’s head sticking out its tongue gleefully while Glitch’s face looked so tense and worried, and then the air stilled, the flames steadied, and the candles burned brightly once more.
Glitch’s shoulders slumped with relief, then he turned furiously on Muddle.
“What in the name of all that’s maggoty would make you come through a door like that?” Glitch asked sharply. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” Muddle said, his face crumpling. “I just wanted to see Rolly again.”
“You and the rest of the known world,” grumbled Glitch. “All right, all right. Come with me, then.”
He stomped across the cavern with Poppy, Will, and Franny close behind. Without pausing, he flung open a door.
It wasn’t hard for Poppy to peer over Glitch’s shoulder, since he was only two feet tall. She had a clear view of Rolly standing in the middle of a bare stone room, blinking in the sudden light. He looked small and lonely and even—unwelcome tears pricked Poppy’s eyes—ever so slightly scared.
Franny, of course, took full advantage of the moment. She pushed past Glitch and rushed over to kneel by Rolly, throwing her arms around him and clutching him tightly. “Oh, thank goodness we finally found you, Rolly!” she declaimed. “Don’t be scared—we’re here to rescue you!”
But Rolly merely pulled himself out of her grasp and scowled at them all. “What took you so long?”
Chapter Seventeen
“We came as fast as we could, you ungrateful little brat,” Franny said, abandoning all attempts to stage a heartwarming family reunion. She stood up, dusted off her knees, and looked around. “What is this place? Some kind of dungeon?”
Poppy winced. Will rolled his eyes. Too late, Franny caught herself.
“Sorry,” she said to Glitch. “But it does look like you could use a few decorating tips.”
“Well, who knows, maybe you’ll be here long enough to transform the place,” said Glitch. “In the meantime, feel free to settle in, make yourselves comfortable, let us know if you need anything.” He cackled at the thought. “I’ll be back soon—just as soon as we figure out what we’re going to do with all of you.”
As soon as Glitch and Muddle had gone, closing the door behind them, Poppy turned to survey the room. A small metal brazier sat in one corner, emitting belches of smoke and a faint warmth that did little to dispel the chill in the air. A few thin mattresses were stacked in another corner, along with blankets and pillows.
One small mattress had been placed in front of the brazier, and a rumpled blanket and pillow had been laid crookedly on top of it. Clearly, this was where Rolly had been sleeping.
The sight of the little bed—and the fact that Rolly had tried to make it—made her throat feel tight. She decided to risk giving him a hug.
“What are you doing?” He twisted away from her, his face red. “Stop it! Why does everyone keep hugging me?”
“It’s just that we’re glad to see you,” Poppy said, a little hurt but not really surprised; Rolly had never been much of a hugger.
He eyed her suspiciously. “You are?”
“Sure,” Will said. “We thought we might never find you again.”
Rolly stared at Will. “So what? You have Blot now. I bet you like him better than me anyway.”
Will and Franny looked at each other blankly.
“Blot?” Franny said. “Who’s Blot?”
“The changeling, of course,” Poppy said impatiently. “The goblin who took Rolly’s place.”
Rolly’s lower lip jutted out. “You probably didn’t even notice I was gone,” he said. “You probably didn’t miss me at all.”
“Well, he does look a lot like you—” Will began.
Poppy raised her eyebrows. He shut his mouth with a snap. Rolly’s frown deepened into the stubborn, mulish look they knew all too well and he said, “Maybe I won’t ever come home. Maybe I’ll stay down here where people like me.”
“Oh, please,” Franny said with a flip of her hand. “Live the rest of your life with goblins? I don’t think so.”
“Listen, Rolly,” Poppy said, giving her sister a quelling look, “we knew right away that something was wrong. And we didn’t like Blot at all.” She knelt down so she could look into Rolly’s eyes. “Oh, he was nice enough, I suppose, but having him around just wasn’t the same. He wasn’t you.”
Rolly furrowed his brow as he thought that over. Finally, he said, “You didn’t like him? Even though the goblins taught him to be nice all the time and mind his manners and never get into trouble?”
Poppy gave Will a meaningful look over Rolly’s shoulder, and Will picked up his cue as if they’d rehearsed it.
“That was the whole problem!” Will said. “That little goblin was completely boring.”
“He was?” Rolly asked.
“Yep.” Will nodded. “He never once tried to fill the bathtub with Jell-O or trained ants to march across the kitchen floor. Remember when you did that, Rolly?”
Rolly didn’t quite smile, but a contented, remembering look appeared on his face. “Uh-huh.”
“And remember when you tied a rope to the ceiling fan to see if you could hang on long enough to fly?” Poppy said. “Now that was an innovative idea. And very entertaining, too. Especially when you crashed into the bookshelf.”
Rolly’s nose twitched slightly. “Dad didn’t think so,” he pointed out.
“Geniuses always go unrecognized by their parents,” Poppy assured him. “But now that we’ve had to live with . . . What’s his name?”
“Blot,” Rolly said darkly.
“Now we realize how much we liked having you around,” Poppy said. “Blot’s just not interesting. Not interesting at all.”
Franny’s mouth was hanging open slightly in disbelief as she stared at Poppy and Will. “What are you two talking about? Rolly’s the reason I can’t ever invite friends to the house—ow!”
She rubbed her ankle, staring resentfully at Poppy.
“Exactly,” Poppy said quickly. “And I bet the people in Emporia are still talking about that Fourth of July party, right, Franny?”
A few beats late, Franny finally caught on. “Oh, er, yes,” she said. “Everyone who’s ever crossed paths with you is still talking about it, Rolly. Mrs. Wilson—remember, that lady who lived next to us in Akron?—she still e-mails Mom for updates to see how you’re
doing.”
“And to make sure you don’t ever come within fifty miles of her house,” Will muttered under his breath.
“Please, Rolly,” said Poppy. She put as much urgency into her voice as she could. “It’s not the same without you. We really, really want you to come home.”
Rolly thought it over for five seconds, then nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“There’s just one slight problem,” said Franny. She nodded toward the wooden door with its heavy iron latch. “How are we going to get out?”
Poppy grinned, stepped over Rolly’s makeshift bed, and lifted the latch with one finger. The door swung open smoothly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the empty tunnel outside.
“I was watching Glitch when he left us here, just in case I would notice something that would help us get out,” she said triumphantly. “And guess what? He forgot to lock the door! Now all we have to do is sneak away before he comes back and we’ll be home before anyone notices that we’re gone.”
“Nice,” Franny said approvingly.
But Will just shook his head. “Glitch didn’t forget anything. He didn’t lock the door because he doesn’t have to. There’s no way we’ll ever find our way out of this place.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Will.” Poppy tried not to look smug as she pulled the last Roman coin from her pocket and held it, shining on her palm in the candlelight. “I already thought of that. Come on.”
The goblin laughter didn’t start for at least ten minutes. Poppy would later remember those ten minutes fondly. Her plan was working: the goblins had been outsmarted, and they were on their way home. She even allowed herself to enjoy a daydream in which Glitch discovered they were gone, turned purple with rage, and gave a ringing speech about how deluded he had been, thinking that he could get the best of someone as clever and intrepid as Poppy Malone.
If they weren’t trying to move as quietly as possible, Poppy would have started humming. Instead, she held firmly to Rolly with one hand and moved her flashlight beam back and forth across the ground with the other. Every time the flashlight picked up a flash of gold, she pocketed another coin with the happy thought that they were a few steps closer to getting out of the cave and going home.
Poppy couldn’t hear anything except the faint drip of water from the rock over their heads and the quiet sound of her own breathing. Then, faint but ominously clear, a sound of scurrying and a rattle of pebbles, as if someone—or something—had run by in the dark.
Franny gave a squeak of dismay. “I really, really, really hope that was just a rat.”
Someone chuckled.
It was a soft, delighted laugh. In other circumstances—say, if they were back home, sitting on the porch, sipping lemonade and enjoying a beautiful day—it would have merely sounded amused. But down here, where even the slightest sound echoed weirdly from the rock walls, it took on a much more sinister tone.
“That didn’t sound like a rat,” said Will.
“How do you know?” asked Franny, rather shrilly. “Maybe that’s how rats sound when they’re on their own.”
“Gee, that’s an interesting theory,” he said. “When human eyes can’t see them, the rats of the world sit around telling each other rat jokes and playing rat games and laughing little rat laughs—”
“Shh.” Poppy held up a hand to silence them. “Listen.”
They all held their breath. There was a tapping sound from behind them—tap, tap, tap—but when Poppy turned her flashlight in that direction, she saw nothing except a large, furry spider scuttling behind a rock. Franny whimpered.
The tapping started up again, a little louder this time and once more from behind them. Poppy swung around again. Again, the light beam revealed nothing except a stalagmite stretching toward the ceiling of the cave. Or had she seen the stalagmite’s shadow slip away to the left?
Poppy flicked her flashlight in that direction—and a goblin suddenly loomed at them out of the dark. She jumped, the flashlight beam skittered away, and the goblin disappeared once more.
“What was that?” Will yelled.
Poppy swept her flashlight back and forth until she caught a glimpse of the goblin’s face again.
“It’s just another carving,” she said with relief. She walked over to examine it more closely. It stuck its tongue out at her. Scowling, she stuck her tongue out in response, thinking that, of all the expressions she’d seen so far, this one was her least favorite.
“I’ve read about people finding petroglyphs in caves, but they’re usually just carved lines or maybe a rough image of some sort,” she said, half to herself. “I don’t think I’ve ever come across any mention of carvings like these—”
“Poppy.” Franny’s voice was tight. “Do you think you could interrupt the lecture long enough for us to get out of here?”
“Wait just a minute. . . .” Poppy moved closer to the carving and leaned in until she was almost nose to nose with it. Something teased at the back of her mind, a vague idea that she couldn’t quite capture. It had something to do with the goblin’s expression, the way he seemed to be mocking her, as if he had a secret.
And yet, she had the sense that the clue to that secret was right in front of her, if only she could figure it out. . . .
“Come on.” Even Will sounded a little nervous. “We don’t know when Glitch might come back to check on us and find out we’re gone.”
Whatever brilliant thought Poppy was about to have vanished.
“Thanks a lot, Will,” she snapped. “I was just about to have a blinding scientific insight, but now it’s gone—”
It was when she tried to turn around that she discovered that something seemed to have gone wrong with her legs. Her right foot moved three inches, then stopped. She teetered for a moment as her brain tried to figure out what was wrong . . .
. . . and then she promptly fell flat on her stomach.
“Hey, are you okay—” Will’s question ended in a grunt as he, too, crashed to the ground.
“For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong—oh!” Within one step, Franny, too, fell down.
The cave erupted in sniggering goblin laughter.
Poppy sat up and looked around wildly, but there were no goblins to be seen. Just shifting shadows and the echo of that jeering laughter.
“Stop it!” she shouted.
To her amazement, the laughter stopped. The back of Poppy’s neck prickled.
She grabbed her flashlight and pointed it at her feet. Her shoelaces had been tied together—tied so thoroughly, in fact, that they were now a tight tangle of knots. The same prank, she saw, had also been played on Will and Franny. Only Rolly was still standing.
He trotted over to where Poppy, Franny, and Will were sprawled in the dirt and stood smiling down at them.
“I could have told you not to wear those kind of shoes around goblins,” he said smugly. He pointed to his own shoes, which fastened with a Velcro strap. “See? You should wear sneakers like mine. Goblins hate these kind of shoes.”
“So does everyone over the age of five,” Franny muttered as she tried to untie her shoes. “How did those goblins follow us without us seeing them, anyway?”
Poppy stopped tugging at her laces. “That’s a good question,” she said thoughtfully.
“And how did they mess with our shoes without us noticing?” asked Will.
“They’re very clever,” Rolly said. “That’s why they asked me to live with them, because they said that I am very clever, too. More clever than any other mortal they’ve ever seen. That’s what they said.”
“Oh, is that so?” snapped Will, whose efforts to unknot his laces had come to nothing. “And what made them think you’re so smart?”
Rolly stared at him. “They watched me,” he said.
Poppy felt a chill. The memory of Glitch staring at Rolly as he spread peanut butter on a window screen flashed through her mind. “They love to play pranks on humans,” she said slowly. “May
be they thought that all the, well, unusual things that Rolly does—”
“You mean the crazy things he does,” Franny said bluntly. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face, then bent over her shoes again.
“They said I was a natural,” Rolly said. “They said I had a talent for troublemaking.”
“A talent?” Will scoffed. “You’re an absolute genius.” He gave a particularly vicious yank to one of the knots and managed to rip his shoes without, however, actually untangling his laces.
“Well, that’s just great.” He examined his torn sneakers with disgust. “These cost me all my Christmas and birthday money last year.”
“I told you not to spend it all on one thing,” Franny said primly. “I told you you were being a spendthrift.”
Will gave her a murderous look, but settled for simply reaching down to pull off his shoes. “Forget it. I’ll walk out of here in my socks.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Rolly trotted over to Will and plucked at his shoelaces with small, delicate movements. Within moments, the snarls had disappeared.
Poppy’s mouth dropped open. “How did you do that?”
Rolly shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“We always knew he had powers,” Will said, happily retying his shoes. “We just didn’t know that he could use them for good as well as evil.”
“No, really,” Poppy insisted. “I want to know—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Franny cried. “Who cares?” She thrust her feet at Rolly. “Can you do mine next? Please?”
“We have to move faster,” Poppy said. “I dropped ten coins and we’ve found five. That means we’re halfway home.”
But the goblins had other ideas.
A few minutes later, Franny spotted a coin and picked it up, only to find that it was smeared with something sticky.
“Aaggh!” She dropped the coin and automatically wiped her hand on her shorts before realizing what she was doing.
“Oh no!” she wailed. “My new shorts!”
A goblin chuckle echoed through the tunnel.
Franny whirled around. “This is not funny!” she shouted, too angry now to be scared. “I spent a month’s allowance on these shorts!”
The Unseen World of Poppy Malone: A Gaggle of Goblins Page 14