The Unseen World of Poppy Malone: A Gaggle of Goblins

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The Unseen World of Poppy Malone: A Gaggle of Goblins Page 15

by Suzanne Harper


  “A month’s allowance,” Will muttered. “And she calls me a spendthrift.”

  “These are designer shorts,” she responded huffily. “Movie stars wear them. I saw a photo in a magazine—”

  “Forget it,” Poppy said. “Just throw them in the washer when we get home.”

  “I can’t do that; they’re linen,” Franny snapped. “And you know that if I take them to the dry cleaners, they’ll tell me they can’t get the stains out; they always do—”

  “Franny.” Poppy grabbed her arm. “Focus. Laundry is not our biggest problem right now.”

  “Yeah, quit acting like such a princess,” said Will. “Just pick up the coin and let’s keep going.”

  Franny tossed her head. “I’m not touching that,” she said, her lip curling with disdain. “It’s all sticky and dirty and gross.”

  “I will,” Rolly said, pocketing the coin cheerfully. “I bet I can find all the others, too.”

  He started down the tunnel, staring intently at the ground.

  “Rolly,” Poppy said, “you do know that you don’t get to keep the coins, right? You do remember that they belong to Dad—”

  “Shh.” Will elbowed her. “Don’t distract him, not now when his criminal nature is finally coming in handy.”

  Poppy opened her mouth to argue, but then she saw Rolly square his shoulders, fix his eyes on something a few yards away, and start toward it with the single-minded focus of a hunting dog that has picked up a scent. If she had been standing a little closer to him, Poppy was sure she would have seen his nose twitch.

  Seconds later, he snatched up another coin, put it in his pocket, and continued down the tunnel.

  “You’re right,” said Poppy. “Anyway, I don’t think we could stop him if we wanted to.”

  They pelted after Rolly through the dark tunnels, Poppy’s flashlight illuminating their way with a thin and wavering beam of light. Rolly quickly found another coin, half hidden behind a boulder, but then he seemed to lose the trail, and for fifteen minutes, he wandered back and forth with Poppy, Will, and Franny following anxiously behind.

  Just as Poppy was about to say they needed to stop and come up with another plan, Rolly darted forward and ran down the dark and narrow tunnel that veered off to the left.

  He skidded to a halt in front of a goblin door and bent down to pick up a coin, which had rolled to a stop just under another carving. This one had his lips pursed, as if he’d been caught in the act of spitting. Poppy had just noticed that the ground below the carving was more muddy than the rest of the tunnel floor when she saw Will step forward to take the coin from Rolly. . . .

  And when he did, the goblin spat. A stream of water hit Will right in the face.

  The cave erupted with laughter as Will spluttered and jumped back, landing heavily on Poppy’s foot and pushing her off balance. She windmilled her arms, felt herself falling and, a few seconds later, sat down with a squelch in oozing mud.

  “Ow!” Tears pricked her eyes. “That hurt.”

  Will wiped a sleeve across his face, then glared at her. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he snapped.

  “I didn’t say you did,” she snapped back.

  “What are you two arguing about now?” asked Franny. She looked first at Will, wiping water off his face, then at Poppy, sitting in a mud puddle. “There’s another coin right there in front of you.”

  Rolly’s head swiveled around. “Where?”

  He brightened as Franny pointed at a glint of gold on the ground. “I’ve got it!” he said, running over to snatch it up.

  “Great, that’s the last one,” Will said. “Now all we have to do is find one of those trail signs Poppy made with the tape and Popsicle sticks, follow them back to where we started, climb out of the cave somehow—”

  “Wait,” Poppy said, but he wasn’t listening.

  She distinctly remembered dropping each coin along the side of the trail, hoping that Glitch wouldn’t notice what she was doing. And yet the coin that Franny had found was lying smack-dab in the middle of the tunnel, right where anyone could see it. . . .

  “Rolly! No, don’t touch it,” she cried, running toward the others.

  But her warning came too late.

  A net came down over Will, Franny, Rolly, and Poppy, tangling them in a web of ropes.

  “All right, that’s it, I’ve had it!” Poppy’s voice rang through the rocky cavern.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. I knew that I hadn’t dropped any coins in the middle of the tunnel, I knew that this was a trap. . . .

  She grabbed the bottom of the net. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  Will and Franny followed her lead, but the result of three people attempting to lift a heavy net over their heads was not a happy one. Franny tried to duck under the net just as Will was lifting another section. He staggered back and pushed Poppy over. She grabbed a section of net to break her fall, which then twisted a rope around Franny, who landed with a grunt on Rolly.

  And all the time they were struggling to escape, the sound of mocking goblin laughter was reverberating through the cave.

  Finally, after stern instructions from Poppy, they managed to crawl out into the open air.

  “Okay,” said Will. “We’re out. Now let’s go—”

  But when they turned to run, they found a familiar figure blocking their path.

  “Nice try,” said Glitch. He rubbed his hands together, grinning. “I love it when mortals think I’ve forgotten to lock the door. Or when they imagine they’re being so clever by leaving a trail so they can find their way out.”

  His smile disappeared. “Did you really think we’ve lived in these caves for centuries without learning a few tricks of our own? Did you really think you’d come up with an escape plan that no one else has ever thought of? Did you really think we wouldn’t notice you dropping gold coins behind you like bread crumbs?”

  He shook his head, as if saddened by their utter lack of imagination. “All we had to do was pick them up and lay a trail of our own and . . . voila! We led you right back to where you started from.”

  Glitch crossed his arms over his chest and gave Poppy a particularly wide grin, as if he wanted to show as many of his sharp, pointed teeth as possible. “Face it,” he continued. “You’ll never find your way out of here.”

  Poppy took a deep breath. She grabbed Franny’s hand with her right and Rolly’s hand with her left, then locked eyes with Will.

  “That’s what you think,” she said. Then she yelled one word.

  “Run!”

  They ran.

  “You’ll just get lost,” Glitch called after them. “Hey! Look! We’re not even bothering to chase you! Don’t worry, when you get tired of trying to escape, we’ll come get you. . . .”

  His voice faded as they raced through dark tunnels, with Poppy trying to remember the twists and turns they’d taken, but mainly running as fast as she could to get away from the goblins.

  And then they rounded a corner and stopped. Poppy’s heart sank as she realized where they were.

  Dozens of candles flickered along the walls. Oil lamps burned with a warm, steady light, while cages of fireflies swung gently from wooden poles.

  “We’re back in Goblin Hall,” Will said, disgusted. “We just came full circle.”

  Franny started to cry. “This is so unfair,” she wept. “I haven’t even turned sixteen yet! I haven’t even lived! And now”—she pushed her hair back from her tear-stained face—“now I’m going to die in this stupid, stupid goblin cave!”

  “No one’s going to die,” Poppy said testily. “There’s got to be a way out of here.”

  “Oh, really?” Franny sounded dangerously close to hysteria. “Then where is it, Poppy? The goblins have moved all the coins you dropped, we can’t find the trail markers you left behind, and no one knows we’re here, thanks to you! If you think you can see a way out, I’d like to hear what it is—”

  “Shh.” Poppy held up one hand. S
he was thinking hard. They were in dire straits, no doubt about it. But she could feel the solution close at hand, so close that she could almost touch it. . . .

  Slowly, she turned in a circle, examining every inch of her surroundings. There was the door to the prison cell, with its heavy oak planks and iron latch. And there was the carving of a goblin, winking at her as if he were taunting her with something that he knew and she didn’t. . . .

  And just like that, Poppy knew the answer to the puzzle that had been eluding her.

  “We’re not going to let those goblins beat us,” she said, her voice firm with resolve. “I know exactly how to get us out of here.”

  “First, we need to douse all the lights so the goblins can’t see us,” she said.

  “How do you know that will work?” Will asked. “What if they can see in the dark?” “If they had adapted to the dark, they wouldn’t need candles,” Poppy said briskly. “They’d be like those fish and worms that live in caves for so long that they don’t even have eyes anymore—”

  Franny shuddered. “Thank you, Poppy. I had almost forgotten about the blind worms. And now I can also imagine running into goblins with no eyes. I’m feeling better already.”

  Poppy ignored her. She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the cavern. “Franny, help me turn down the oil lamps,” she said. “Will, Rolly, we need to open all the firefly cages and all the doors. Hurry!”

  She and Franny moved quickly from one lamp to the next, carefully turning down the wicks until the flames were snuffed out. Rolly raced around the room, releasing swarms of fireflies that flew around the room a few times, then spiraled up into the darkness above their heads. Will flung open one door after another.

  As he came to the last one, Poppy said, “Wait a second.”

  She reached into her backpack and pulled out a rope and a pair of night-vision goggles. After making three knots in the rope, she tied it around her waist, then handed the end to Rolly.

  “Hold on to the first knot, Rolly, and don’t let go,” she said. “Franny, grab the second one, and Will, you take the third.”

  Once she was satisfied that they all had a firm grasp on the rope, she lowered the goggles over her eyes and nodded to Will.

  “Okay,” she said. “Now—open the door.”

  Will did and a gust of wind swept through the room. The candles guttered for a moment, then went out.

  “Perfect,” Poppy said. She turned off her flashlight, and they were plunged into complete darkness.

  “Tell me again,” Franny asked, “why this is a good idea?”

  “Shh.” Poppy scanned the room. With her goggles on, she could see the boulders, the tunnel opening, and most importantly, the goblin carving on the wall. “Follow me.”

  The night-vision goggles made the cave glow with a strange green light. Poppy moved confidently through the darkness, occasionally passing whispered instructions to Rolly, Franny, and Will about stepping around a puddle or over a rock.

  They walked for ten yards before coming to a side tunnel. Behind her, Franny said, “This is crazy! We’re all turned around, we have no idea which way to go, we’re going to get totally lost—”

  “Shh.” Poppy carefully examined the stone walls, then pointed. “This way.”

  “Um, Poppy?” Will’s voice, low and worried, echoed back to them. “I know you’ve got everything figured out and you have a plan and all that, but . . . are you sure?”

  Poppy grinned in the dark. “Yep,” she said. “I’m sure.”

  The tunnel they took slanted down. Poppy could feel some tugging on the rope, as if someone (she suspected Franny) was resisting the idea that they would actually walk deeper into the cave.

  But five minutes later, they reached another branching. This time, there were three tunnel openings. Poppy walked slowly from one to the other, peering up at the rock and pulling a reluctant group of people behind her.

  “There,” she said, pointing to a carving high on the wall. “This way.”

  She headed down the tunnel without any hesitation, moving so surely that the others had no choice but to follow.

  The longer they walked, the more Will and Franny murmured darkly to themselves, but Poppy chose to ignore them. They came to five more intersections and were faced with five more choices. At each one, she paused just long enough to find the sign she was seeking before going on.

  Finally, however, Will had had enough. He stopped dead and pulled on the rope to make everyone else stop, too.

  “Hold on,” he said. “Poppy, what are you doing? We’ve been walking for hours—”

  Poppy glanced at her watch. “Actually, it’s been fifteen minutes—”

  “And the rest of us can’t see a thing—”

  “But I can,” she said. “Trust me.”

  Even in the dark, Poppy could sense that Will was scowling at her.

  “Do you have any idea where we are?” he demanded.

  “Actually, I do.” She turned on her flashlight and pointed it at the wall, where a goblin stuck out its tongue. “See that? Come on.”

  She pulled them after her as she rounded a corner and entered a small stone chamber. Weak morning light was filtering through a hole in the earth above them. Will and Franny blinked as Poppy grinned at them triumphantly.

  “Here we are,” she said. “Right back where we started from.”

  Once she knew the goblins’ secret, Poppy explained to them all later, it was easy to find their way out of the cave.

  “I couldn’t figure out how the goblins were able to sneak around without us seeing them,” she said. “And I knew they must have developed some kind of system to find their way through all the tunnels without getting lost themselves. When we ended up back in the cavern, I remembered that Muddle had entered through that one door—”

  “The one with the goblin sticking his tongue out,” Will said.

  “Right,” she said. “That was the sign showing the way out. All we had to do was follow it.”

  The four of them were walking through the woods toward home. When they’d gotten back to the cave entrance, Franny had hoisted Will up without any argument, and he had tied Poppy’s rope to a tree. The others had pulled themselves up hand over hand, with Rolly clambering up first and Franny emerging last.

  As they paused to catch their breaths, they looked at one another. Leaves and twigs were clinging to Franny’s matted hair, Rolly had managed to tear a sleeve off his shirt, Will had brand-new scrapes and bruises on his legs, and Poppy was covered with dirt.

  And yet, none of them could remember feeling happier.

  They stepped out of the woods and looked at their house. It looked quiet and peaceful in the soft light of dawn. Birds chirped sleepily in the branches over their heads. A gentle breeze wafted by, carrying the sweet scents of cut grass and honeysuckle.

  They heard a crash, followed by the faint sound of yelling. The kitchen window was flung open and a bundle of garlic was thrown, with some vehemence, onto the lawn.

  Poppy smiled. It was good to be home.

  Epilogue

  “You’re all up early,” Mrs. Malone said as her children walked into the kitchen. She was sitting at the breakfast table with Mr. Malone and Oliver Asquith. They looked bleary eyed.

  “Um, yeah,” Will said. “You see—”

  “We thought it might be fun to see the sun rise,” said Poppy as Rolly climbed up on a chair.

  Mr. Malone rubbed his hand over his face. “And was it?” He yawned.

  She stared at him blankly. “What?”

  He lowered his hand and glared at her. “Was it fun?”

  “Oh yes! Yes!” Poppy said brightly. “In fact, it was so much fun, we think we might do it every morning.”

  Franny looked appalled, and Will kicked Poppy’s ankle in protest.

  “I keep telling you children that getting plenty of sleep is good for you.” Yawning, Mrs. Malone stood up and began rooting through the cupboards. “I’m glad that you all managed
to sleep through that little rumpus last night. . . .”

  Franny perked up. “What kind of rumpus?”

  “Can we have pancakes?” Rolly asked, reaching for the jar of honey in the center of the table.

  “I think we’ll just have cereal, dear heart,” Mrs. Malone said over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’m quite up to pancakes this morning.”

  “Were there vampires?” Franny persisted. Her face clouded over. “Please don’t tell me that I missed meeting a real, live vampire—”

  “Technically, vampires are dead,” said her father, “and you’ll be glad to know that you missed absolutely nothing except a bloodthirsty band of raccoons— Rolly, what are you doing?”

  “What?” Rolly looked up innocently, seemingly unaware of the honey that was now dripping off the edge of the table. “Nothing.”

  Mr. Malone picked up a napkin and, with an irritable flourish, began dabbing at his knee. “Of course not,” he muttered. “First raccoons, now this. What else can this day possibly bring—”

  “You may well ask,” Oliver Asquith said with a faint echo of his usual bravado. “I still say that those were no normal raccoons. They broke into the house! And did you see the way their eyes glowed with that unearthly red light?”

  “What are you saying?” Mr. Malone scoffed. “That we fought off vampire raccoons?”

  Oliver Asquith hesitated only a moment. “It’s possible,” he said. “More than possible, in fact—”

  “Nonsense!” said Mr. Malone. “There’s nothing remotely like that in any of the scientific literature.”

  Oliver Asquith sniffed. “Clearly, you haven’t read my article in last month’s issue of Sanguinary Studies,” he said.

  “Actually, I did,” Mr. Malone said, his voice rising. “I found the premise faulty and the conclusions ridiculous.”

  “Really?” Oliver Asquith flung his head back, prepared to do battle. “Perhaps you’d like to defend that statement—”

  “Dear, please.” Mrs. Malone was pouring cereal with one hand and reaching for the aspirin bottle with the other. “I wonder if you two could continue your discussion elsewhere? It’s most interesting, of course, but perhaps a bit loud for this early in the morning. . . .”

 

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