Nausea coils in my gut.
Two of the humanoid monsters step toward us. “We have some visitors,” one of them croons, voice muddy and wet.
They speak.Lucas’s hands tremble on his rifle, and I pray he doesn’t do anything rash.
“Looks like they’ve never seen a goblin before, Launak,” one of them chitters.
“No, don’t reckin’ they have, Aldgog. Peek at their ears, all rounded and short. Lost little humans,” Launak hisses.
Goblins. One of the many monstrosities Papa rambled about in his tales. He said they were enemies of the fae. But to see them here, in the flesh…
There’s at least twenty surrounding us, laughing and chanting: “Lost little humans, lost little humans, lost little humans.”
“I’m looking for my father,” I say.
The chant of the surrounding goblins changes. “Father, father, father. Lost father. Father, father, father.”
Launak creaks its head unnaturally to the side. “No fathers around here.”
“No, the old man. The old man,” Aldgog says, showing a row of yellow teeth.
The goblins move closer as they talk and the ones above us scramble down the brambles. I have no illusions about their intentions, but if they know something about my father, I have to find out as much information as I can before we escape.
“The old man,” I say. “Where is he?”
“Don’t want to go where the old man’s gone.” Something akin to fear crosses Aldgog’s face.
“Taken,” Launak hisses.
“Who has my father?” I demand.
“Winter.” A black tongue snakes out of Launak’s lips, and his voice pitches low as he says, “Keldarion and his beasts.”
Keldarion…
Fearful chittering and shrieks sound from the surrounding goblins. “Keldarion. Keldarion. Prince of the beasts.”
Fear blossoms in my chest, and I realize the goblins have gotten so close I can smell their putrid breath, like fermenting leaves, old mushrooms, and warm, wet mud. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Keldarion and his beasts of the Briar.”
“Shut the fuck up, all of you,” Lucas roars and cocks his rifle.
“Lucas, wait!”
He fires.
Loud bangs sound around me and light flashes in my eyes. There’s the horrible sound of their screeching as bullets fly into the goblins.
His rounds fizzle out, and I stare at the massacre. At least five of the goblins lay dead. Black inky blood leaks into the soil.
“Run,” I gasp.
We leap over the dead bodies of the goblins, but movement sounds behind us. Whatever shock these monsters entered from Lucas’s attack has worn off. They’re coming.
Lucas falls hard, and his rifle skitters beneath a twisting thicket.
“Shit,” he swears. A dark shadow leaps over me—one of the hyena creatures—and throws itself over Lucas. He screams as the creature’s sharp claws pierce into his back. Behind, the goblins cheer, voices growing louder at their approach.