Once Upon a Quest

by Anthea Sharp

  “My favorite color!” Rowst bellowed.

  “I’m so incredibly happy for you!” The skin around Zelwynn’s eyes wrinkled up as he smiled, proud as a grandfather. “Now, who else…”

  Zelwynn steepled his pudgy fingers and scanned the crowd, giving far more thought to his next selection. Kira stood tall—as tall as a kobold could—and tried to project just how much she needed this quest—any quest—with her entire being. Surely a High Wizard would be able to catch the scent of such desire burning through the ether.

  “Trench Doomslayer and Forge of the Shadow Range, I think.”

  There was an audible groan as the ogress and dwarf made their way to the dais. Hard and weathered, these two were no strangers to questing. Zelwynn had chosen this duo several times before—every time they had come back victorious and split the commission. It would have been nice if Zelwynn branched out a bit and gave someone else a chance, but it was hard to argue with their track record.

  Trench pulled an axe from the magic sack. Forge extracted a crossbow. When the two joined Rowst at the edge of the dais, they swapped. Zelwynn either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

  “Perhaps one more…” Zelwynn closed his eyes and extended his palm, moving his arm from one side of the crowd to the other. Kira stood at attention, gripping her sword so tightly that her already-gray knuckles turned white. Zelwynn’s hand stopped in front of her, and paused. The palm turned into a finger that pointed…just to the left of her. “What’s this?”

  The crowd beside her parted to reveal…a human? Surely not. Any human reckless enough to stand in this angry company would have to be evil as the day is long and imbued with more magic than the High Wizard himself. He looked almost human, but thin and wiry. Haefairies were more traditionally attractive. Softer. This boy had sharp features. Olive skin. Hair as black-green as cave slime. Terrible complexion.

  “Is that a goblin?” whispered a voice in the crowd.

  As I live and breathe, thought Kira. If she wasn’t going to be chosen, at least she’d been present to witness this. She never would have guessed that the boy was a goblin, because goblins rarely ever left the safety of their precious city. Even more surprising was that—apart from one small dagger—he had come to the selection completely unarmed.

  “Well, well,” said Zelwynn. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise. What’s your name, son?”

  “Soot, Your Excellentness,” said the goblin. “Though I’ve always rather liked ‘Horatio.’”

  “Let’s stick with ‘Soot’ for now, for the ease of your traveling companions. Assuming you’d like to join this quest, of course.”

  “Yes, sir! Very much, sir.”

  “Wonderful! You are a brave young man.” Zelwynn’s pudgy fingers wriggled in delight. “Please, step right up and claim your token.”

  A grin spread across the goblin’s face and he virtually skipped up to join Zelwynn on the platform. He stuck his scrawny arm in the bag and pulled out…what looked like a cow’s tongue. He held the flaccid thing up in triumph, smiling like a fool.

  Kira fumed. It was supposed to be her up there. According to the dreams, it should have been her.

  “Company,” announced the High Wizard, “I present your champions!”

  There was a smattering of applause at the declaration, but far more groans and grumbles.

  Kira tried to contain her anger…and failed. “They don’t even know what they’re looking for!”

  Zelwynn’s bushy brows furrowed. “Didn’t I say?”

  “No!” Kira yelled. A few others echoed her answer.

  “Goodness, that’s very unlike me,” Zelwynn muttered. “Thank you for setting me straight, clever young woman. Tell me, would you like to join this questing party as well?”

  “What is the quest for?” Kira asked pointedly.

  Zelwynn spread his arms wide and proudly announced: “The Lost Treasure of Zelwynn!”

  Laughs were hidden under coughs, along with a few expressions of confusion. What on earth had the High Wizard misplaced in the mountains that he couldn’t just go find himself?

  Kira narrowed her eyes. “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

  “It is an instrument of both perfect peace and ultimate destruction,” Zelwynn answered. “Its value is beyond price.”

  Trench and Forge exchanged knowing glances. The troll and the goblin didn’t stand half a chance against those two. But with Kira’s help they might. She loosened the grip on the hilt of her sword. “Fine. Count me in.”

  “Kira Kobold, everyone!” Zelwynn announced as she approached the dais, and the crowd of soldiers actually cheered. Kira hadn’t expected that. Nor had she expected the High Wizard to know her by name, but she supposed wizards had their ways. At the top of the steps, she faced Zelwynn. Unafraid, she stared deep into those beady little eyes.

  “It’s about time,” the High Wizard said. And then he winked at her.

  Slightly more unsettled now, Kira turned to the armored masses below and clapped a fist to her heart in salute. Gauntlets and vambraces clanked against breastplates as her fellow soldiers saluted in return. The sound of it warmed her heart. Dutifully, she lowered her fist and reached into Zelwynn’s mystical bag.

  Be a weapon, she prayed as she rummaged about in the empty sack. Or a shield. Or a charm. Or a charmed weapon. Or shield. As soon as her fingers touched metal, she grabbed the item and yanked it out.

  It was a small washtub.

  Shaking her head, Kira hooked the ring at the side of the tub onto the strap of her pack. Ridiculous nonsense. Magic never could be trusted. Well, the tub might be useful for collecting stream water. Or carrying the still fairly mysterious treasure.

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!” Zelwynn said from the dais. “See you next time!” He turned his back to the slowly dispersing crowd. “Would you like to leave now, or at daybreak?” he asked the chosen few. “The Council will provide for you tonight if you choose the latter.”

  As posh as a night on the Council’s coin sounded, Kira was ready to begin her adventure. “Now,” she said.

  “Now,” echoed Trench and Forge.

  Rowst grunted his affirmation.

  “No time like the present!” the goblin said chipperly.

  Zelwynn patted Soot on the shoulder. “I do like your enthusiasm, lad. Good luck to you!” When they all didn’t immediately turn to leave, the High Wizard’s brows furrowed again. “What? Did I forget something else?”

  “Where are we going?” Kira asked. “The mountains cover quite a large area.”

  “A-ha!” Zelwynn snapped his fingers. “Yes. The last time I laid eyes on the treasure you seek, I left it with the dragon who lived on the highest peak in the Great Mountains.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a map,” growled Trench. It wasn’t a mean growl. Anything said around that many large fangs inevitably ended up as a growl.

  Forge elbowed the ogress. “If he had a map, he wouldn’t need us.”

  “Too true,” said the High Wizard.

  “We’ll climb the nearest ridge and scan the horizon,” said Kira. “That will give us a place to start, anyway.”

  “You are clever indeed,” Soot said to her. “We’ll find that treasure in no time.”

  “No time!” bellowed the troll.

  Trench and Forge chuckled again and set off for the path into the mountains. Soot and Rowst fell in behind. Kira prepared to take the rear, but the High Wizard took her by the arm before she could leave.

  “Be wary, Kira,” warned the wizard. “The treasure you seek may not be the treasure you find.”

  Confused, Kira simply nodded to acknowledge that she’d heard the statement.

  “And protect the goblin. He’s special, that one.”

  The idiot with the magic tongue and no supplies whatsoever? Sure, he was special all right. Kira nodded again, saluted the wizard, and trotted off to join the others.

  They reached the top of the nearest ridge at sunset, but evening mist obscured
most of the northern horizon. The washtub provided an extra ration of water for everyone, and it made a serviceable soup tureen.

  Making soup had been Kira’s way of forcing the goblin to eat something. She’d kept an eye on him, as Zelwynn advised. So far he’d done nothing but talk the whole trek. Trench and Forge tired of his excitement quickly, but Rowst was all too eager to keep up the dialogue. From what Kira could gather, Soot had never seen a rabbit, a deer, twelve types of trees, fireflies, or a mountain.

  “You’ve never seen a mountain?” Kira was reluctant to add to the conversation, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Soot shrugged. “Those of us not lucky enough to get chosen for a squad never leave Goblin City,” he said. “What the city doesn’t provide for us, the squads deliver.”

  Kira did a terrible job of hiding her astonishment. She’d heard about these Goblin Squads. Kobolds were also hoarders by nature, descended from elves who’d once chosen to mine the hills like dwarves, seeking out different gems and minerals for their magic. But where kobolds collected precious stones and metals, goblins collected everything. Buttons and broken toys and bits of tin…and babies. The entire goblin race was made up of orphaned children. “Lost Boys,” they called themselves. Everyone else just called them goblins.

  Stories also said that living in Goblin City was what turned the Lost Boys into wretched, crooked, little green beasties. Soot wasn’t much taller than she, but he didn’t seem particularly haggard, or anything else.

  Like true soldiers, Trench and Forge fell asleep on the spot as soon as they were fed. Rowst pulled his wool cap over his eyes, leaned back against a boulder, and joined them. Wide-eyed Soot didn’t look tired in the slightest, so Kira took the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity.

  “What were you before the goblins stole you?” she asked him. “Elf? Human? Surely not kobold.”

  Soot smiled and poked the dying fire. “Are you usually so blunt?”

  “My mothers scold me for it, but the efficiency of getting straight to the point serves a soldier much better. So, do you know what you were?”

  “No,” said Soot. “Does it matter? I was no one before the goblins collected me. Now I’m someone.”

  “Someone who hasn’t been anywhere or done anything,” Kira observed.

  “A problem I am currently trying to remedy. I want to see and do as much as I can in the time I have left. When I heard news of a quest starting up I thought, here’s my chance!” Soot stretched out his legs and leaned back to look up at the stars. “Like this. Truly. Have you ever seen such a beautiful sky?”

  “Every night without clouds.” Kira wasn’t sure how to tackle the rest of Soot’s declaration. “What do you mean by ‘the time you have left?’ I’d wager you’re barely as old as I, and I am—was—the youngest soldier in the Queen’s Company.”

  “Youngest soldier, and yet admired by so many. What a send off that was! Do you realize how impressive you are?” He leaned forward to stare at her helm by the firelight. “Is that what the incredible detail work on your armor represents? A record of all the valiant deeds you’ve done and foes you’ve slain?”

  Kira had slain more “foes” than she cared to remember, a burden she’d bear for the rest of her own life. The most valiant thing she’d ever done was to simply stay alive. “They’re spells. For protection.”

  “Amazing,” he said with that goofy grin. “Your armor is the same color as your eyes, did you know that? But those markings make it so much more than just armor. It’s a work of art. Elegant and beautiful.” Soot’s own eyes shone in the dark like two polished moss agates. “You are beautiful.” He threw his hands out to their companions. “Forge and Trench are beautiful. Rowst is beautiful. The mountains are beautiful. The trees are beautiful. This place, this world, it’s all so beautiful.”

  “Shh! Lower your voice!” Kira suddenly pitied the young man. “Is it dementia? Is that why you’re dying?”

  Soot laughed heartily, giving some credence to Kira’s assessment. “All Lost Boys die young. Didn’t you know that?”

  “I guess not,” she said. “I’ve never actually met a goblin before.”

  “It’s the price of living in Goblin City,” he said. “The city’s magic protects us, but it also twists our bodies and kills us quickly.”

  Kira couldn’t imagine such a life. But then, she’d been conscripted as a soldier and thrust onto a battlefield when she’d been barely old enough to heft a blade…so maybe she could imagine. She’d just been lucky enough to survive with most of her scars on the inside. “So you left?”

  Soot waggled a finger at her. “One does not simply leave Goblin City. Only the squads have permission to do that. No, I had to vow to leave everything behind—the only home I knew, my brothers, my throne, everything—never to return. I gave up that life so I could live the rest of this one.”

  “Your…throne.” Kira silently cursed the High Wizard. Zelwynn had said the boy was special…

  “My prison, more like,” said Soot. “And now you know all there is to know about me. Your turn! Tell me about yourself.”

  It was fortunate that their companions were still asleep, despite Soot’s energetic outbursts. Trench and Forge didn’t need to know that Soot was—formerly or not—some sort of goblin royalty. Kira envisioned the duo attempting to ransom him back for a tidy sum, and a nation of Lost Boys trying to pay them off in bottle caps and bubblegum wrappers. Rowst would be more accepting of the information, but the questions…oh, the questions would be never ending.

  “I’m not that interesting,” Kira answered finally. “I’m a kobold. And a soldier….though I’m technically not even that anymore. I’m nothing. So there’s nothing to tell.”

  Soot didn’t seem to believe a word she said. “Tell me about your sword.”

  “My sword? Why my sword?”

  He shrugged. “You may not be a soldier anymore, but you still dress and act like one. You carry with you what you need to survive. So that sword is important. Tell me about it.”

  Kira pulled the short sword from its sheath and ran her fingers over the hilt. The imbedded gems were cloudy and worn, but they still radiated strength. “It was my mother’s.”

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  Kira chuckled. “Which one?”

  “That’s right! You have more than one. Fascinating! How does that work? None of the Lost Boys have parents. I know nothing about these things.”

  Kira felt herself smile wistfully, as she always did when she thought of her mothers, and the love they bore for each other and the daughter they shared. “Kiorelys was already pregnant when she met Moira—my father died on a battlefield somewhere. I never knew him. Kiorelys is a metal mage and a healer. Moira was a soldier whose injuries left her in Kiorelys’s care. A bond formed between them immediately…or so they tell me.”

  “A sword from one mother and armor from the other, gifts to protect their soldier child. And you are named after both of them.”

  Kira raised an eyebrow. For all Soot’s naiveté, he was incredibly perceptive. “All right. That’s enough about me. You should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  “Kira, would you do something for me?”

  Kira rolled her eyes. “Only if you promise to try and sleep immediately afterward.”

  “Will you kiss me?”

  Kira froze, unsure how to answer.

  “Or let me kiss you, whatever. It’s just that I’ve never kissed anyone before, or been kissed, and it’s on my list of things to do. I thought about asking Rowst, but if I got that close to his mouth he’d probably just eat me.”

  Kira smirked. “Probably.”

  “I mean, you seem like a nice enough person, and we’ve—”

  Kira leaned in quickly and kissed him. In part to shut him up, and in part because Kira had never kissed anyone either. Until this moment, she’d neither realized nor cared. But if she was meant to live some sort of life outside the war, perhaps she should have her own
checklist. Starting with this.

  It wasn’t half bad. His cheek might have been rough, but his lips were soft. He tasted like earth and grass and fresh air and skin. Though the night was chilly, Kira suddenly felt warm all over.

  No, it wasn’t half bad at all.

  “Thank you,” he whispered when she pulled away.

  “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  With another wry grin, he curled up by the dying fire and closed his eyes. Kira removed her helm and leaned back on her elbows so that she could look up at the brilliant stars.

  He was right. They were beautiful.

  When the moon had traversed a good three quarters of that incredible sky, Kira shook Trench awake so that the ogress could take over the watch. Kira fell asleep quickly, dreaming of a mountain full of gold and a castle with no king. She woke shortly after daybreak, to the familiar sound of arguing.

  “The Blood Mountains are obviously the largest,” growled Trench. “Just look at the horizon.”

  “They only look larger because they’re closer,” said Forge. “The Shadow Range contains the highest peak. Trust me.”

  “I trust you about as far as I can throw you,” growled the ogress. “I’m taller than the Shadow Range.”

  “I should know,” fought the dwarf. “I’m from the Shadow Range.”

  “I’m taller than you, too,” growled the ogress.

  “Rowst, what are your thoughts?” asked the goblin.

  The troll scratched his head beneath the wool cap. “Rowst thought the White Mountains were tallest.”

  “Fairy tales,” the dwarf said dismissively. “The White Mountains are nothing but hills and rubble.”

  “Be quiet, troll,” growled the ogress. “That washtub knows more than you do.”

  “Fine,” said Soot. “Then let’s ask the washtub.” He reached into the small pouch at his belt and withdrew the tongue he’d pulled from Zelwynn’s magic bag. He turned over the washtub, emptying out the remnants of soup from the night before, and tossed the tongue inside.

  Kira sat up. She couldn’t imagine what the goblin was trying to—

  “Dear washtub,” said the goblin, “are you really smarter than my troll friend here?”