Wings (17 page)

Tamisin asked, “How do you know all this?”

“I’m half goblin,” said Jak. “I meant to tell you, just not like this.”

“And on those Halloweens, do a lot of your people come through the Gates?” Tamisin asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Jak nodded. “More then than at any other time. With so many Gates open, more magic comes through, so the
fey can travel in your world for greater distances. The fey who visit through an ordinary Gate have to stay near that Gate or their magic fades. And there’s always the chance that the Gate will shut suddenly, leaving them stranded. A lot of humans have thought they’ve seen ghosts when it’s really just a fairy or a goblin who’s using weakened invisibility magic.”

Something howled in the woods nearby, making Jak reach for her hand again. “We need to go. There are creatures in these woods that we don’t want to meet.”

Tamisin stepped aside, avoiding his grasp. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you saw the goblins, and I know you’ve seen fairies. That night after you danced at the school … They came because of you, didn’t they?”

“Those
things
at your house were goblins?”

Jak scowled, making his handsome face look fearsome. “I’m one of those
things
, as you put it. Or at least half of me is. I’m a halfling—half human, half goblin. You shouldn’t scoff at something you don’t understand. Back before the spell was cast, ancient Egyptians revered goblins. They even considered some of them to be gods. Hawk goblins, jackal goblins …”

The sound of singing came from deeper in the woods. It grew louder until they could make out the words.

Gore and guts and blood and bile

Served up on a platter
,

Anything you think is vile
,

That’s what makes us fatter
.

We are hungry all the time

And looking for our meals
.

We’ll think any food’s sublime

That talks or barks or squeals
.

“We’ve got to go,” Jak said, taking Tamisin’s hand.

“These Gates … You said they go either way.”

“That’s right,” said Jak. “When a Gate is open, it works from either direction.”

“Then I want to go home,” Tamisin said, planting her feet.

Jak glanced back into the forest. “Didn’t you hear that? It was a troll-eating song. From the different voices singing it I’d say the troll has at least three heads. We need to go before it learns we’re here. I’ll take you home as soon as we clear up a few things.”

“Like what?” asked Tamisin.

Jak sighed. “I have to take you to my uncle. There are goblins after you and he’s the only one I know who can make them leave you alone. If I take you back before that, who knows what they’ll do to you. Listen, if you come with me now, I’ll answer all of your questions the first chance I get.”

“Fine,” said Tamisin. “But I consider this a promise.”

“You do that,” said Jak. “I’ll just add it to the long list of promises I’ve come to regret.” Trees at the edge of the path behind them began to shake, and a hairy creature with two long arms and four heads crashed through the underbrush. “Run!” Jak shouted, but Tamisin was already sprinting up the hill.

Tamisin could hear the troll running behind them,
shouting with the voices of four men. The heads seemed to be arguing and the footsteps stopped after the second curve in the path. Even so, Tamisin kept going with Jak keeping pace at her side until the pine trees ended. They slowed to a walk then, but Jak kept them on the path as it wound between jagged boulders until they arrived at a large, flat-topped rock. Four paths converged at the rock, leading away in four different directions. Three of the paths led into various parts of the forest. The fourth ran along an exposed ridge, rising and falling like a dragon’s spine. As the day had grown uncomfortably hot, that path was the least appealing. “I’ve seen that ridge on a map before,” he said. “That’s the way we should go.”

Tamisin’s stomach growled.

“What was that?” asked Jak.

“I’m hungry. I didn’t eat much at dinner last night, and I didn’t eat anything at your party.” Tamisin opened her purse, pleased that she’d been able to keep it with her through everything that had happened to them. She rummaged around, taking out a hair clip and a bandanna before showing him a pack of mints, saying, “You wouldn’t happen to have food on you, would you? All I have are these breath mints and frankly, I don’t care what my breath smells like now.”

“Let me see those,” said Jak. Taking the mints, he slipped behind a rock. When he came back, the mints had become a handful of lemon cookies.

Tamisin gasped. “How’d you do that?” she asked.

“I have my ways,” Jak said, handing the cookies to her.

“So why are goblins after me?” Tamisin asked.

Jak looked away for a moment, then turned back to her and said, “They want you because you’re special. You can do things that most other people can’t.”

“Is it because I’m fey, too? I don’t know what I am, but you’ve seen my ears, and my spreckles,” she said, touching the sparkles on her cheek. “I am, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” said Jak. “I think you’re part fairy.”

“A fairy!” she breathed. “That explains a lot! My ears and my wings …”

“You have wings?”

Tamisin frowned and turned away, making it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. She hadn’t meant to tell him about her wings, at least not until she knew if she could trust him. His revelation that he was half goblin had made her even more reluctant to give him her trust, although it hadn’t been as much of a surprise as it might have been. She had known that he was different since the day they met, she just hadn’t known
how
different.

They were rounding a boulder when she glanced down the length of the ridge and sighed. “I don’t suppose your uncle lives close enough that we’ll reach him sometime today?”

“We’re nowhere near his den,” said Jak. “It’ll be a few days before we get there.”

“I hope you’re about to tell me that there’s a hotel on the way.”

“There is an inn, but I don’t know if it would be a good idea to stay there. No one knows where we are now,
but somebody is bound to notice us at an inn. All we need is for the goblins to hear about it and …”

“You mean we can’t attract attention. I can do that. We just won’t talk to anyone. I don’t want to sleep out in the open if there are things like trolls around.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Jak. “I just wish we had another choice.”

Soon they were walking above the tops of the tallest trees, but it wasn’t long before the forests receeded on either side and the ridge descended into a cultivated land of pastures and hedgerows. Although they didn’t see any people, they eventually came across a sign that showed a squat building and the words GREEN BEETLE INN with an arrow pointing in the direction they were headed.

“I want to stay there,” Tamisin declared.

Having learned at his Halloween party that Tamisin actually could control lightning, or at least summon it, Jak was even more nervous about escorting her through the fey countryside. As a person who’d proven to have real power, not only was she dangerous to be around, but she was valuable to all kinds of fey. And since those goblins at the party had seen what she could do, word was bound to have spread.

They were passing between two farmers’ fields when the first cat streaked through the hay to fall in step just behind them. Another arrived the moment they entered the forest, dropping down from a branch to land lightly on its feet and start off down the path in front of them.

It was nearly dark by then, but at the first curve in the forest Jak saw lights shining through the windows of a squat stone building with an oddly peaked roof. A picture of a large, emerald green beetle decorated a swinging sign above the door.

“Thank goodness,” said Tamisin. “I was afraid we wouldn’t reach it before nightfall.”

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” said Jak, but he wasn’t looking at Tamisin or the inn when he said it. The cats had stopped on the path directly in front of the inn and had turned to face him. With the fur on the arched spines of both cats bristling, their ears pinned back, and their tails lashing, Jak was sure they were trying to tell him something. “Maybe we should just …”

The door to the inn flew open behind the cats, revealing a manlike figure in the doorway. Wielding a broom, he darted out of the inn and swatted at the cats, chasing them off into the night. “Won’t you come in?” he asked, hustling Jak and Tamisin inside.

It took a moment for Jak’s eyes to adjust to the dim light filtering through the smoke from the fireplace, and so he was startled when a goblin appeared out of the shadows to greet them. His mottled scalp was hairless, and he had neither lashes nor eyebrows to soften the appearance of his bulging eyes. He wore dark moleskin pants and an apron over a brown shirt that was rolled up at the elbows, exposing big, muscular arms and little, short-fingered hands. Even before he spoke, the goblin flicked his tongue at each of them, tasting their scent.

“Bob, of the lizard clan, at your service,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to the Green Beetle Inn. I’m the proprietor. How many people in your party?”

“Just two,” said Jak.

The innkeeper grunted and turned to survey the room. Although it was early in the evening, it was
already crowded. The only unoccupied table was near that of three old women dressed in gray who sat hunched in the corner by the fireplace. Jak could tell why no one had sat at the empty table when he saw that the smoke from the fireplace always blew in its direction. “Come along, sir,” said Bob as he threaded his way between the tables.

Jak was starting to follow when Tamisin grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Is he a goblin?” she whispered into his ear. When Jak nodded, she said, “Maybe you were right and we shouldn’t be here. If those other goblins were after me—”

Jak squeezed her hand. “We’re here and everyone in this room has already seen us. It wouldn’t do any good if we left now. Just let me do the talking and don’t let them see that you’re afraid. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

“If you’re sure …”

With Tamisin still holding his hand, Jak led the way to the table. They had no sooner taken their seats facing the hearth than she began to cough. “Did you want a smoking or nonsmoking table?” asked Bob.

“Nonsmoking, please,” Jak said, glancing at Tamisin.

“Ah,” Bob said. Taking a pinch of something from his pocket, he sprinkled it on the table. The smoke swirled and changed direction, heading into a six-inch hole in the center of the tabletop. Apparently the smoke had been coming from the table, not from the chimney. “Sorry about that. A fire elemental sat here last, and we all know how much they like smoke. Now, what will it be—a bite of supper or a good stout drink? We’re known
for our bug juice. I make it fresh myself every day. Our most popular is the green beetle juice, though we also have cricket and wasp.”

“Just the supper, please,” said Jak.

Tamisin leaned toward the innkeeper. “Could we have a menu?”

Bob looked surprised. “What would we be doing with menus, I’d like to know? I can tell you what I’m serving, seeing as I cooked it. We have vegetable soup and some rattlesnake stew,” he said in a singsong voice.

Watercress salad with dressing of dew
,

Fricasseed slugs with a green pepper slime
,

A nice fresh puree of turtle and lime
,

Skunk-cabbage rolls and some Mayapple pie
,

Roasted pig snout and rhinoceros thigh
,

Hair of the dog and the cat it dragged in
,

Fresh rodent custard, with artichoke skin
.

Tamisin was looking a little green, so Jak gave his order first. “I’ll have the rodent custard.”

“Vegetable soup, please,” said Tamisin.

The innkeeper smiled, revealing sharply pointed teeth. “Very good. I made a vat of it yesterday. And what would you like to drink? If you don’t care for bug juice, we have ale—pale, dark, or sludge. We also have cow’s milk, rabbit’s milk, and mouse’s milk.”

“Water, please,” Jak said. “For both of us.”

“Spring, river, or rain? Clean or dirty?”

“We’d prefer the clean spring water.”

“There will be a five percent surcharge for that.”

As Bob left to fetch the order, Jak turned to see who else was there. Two other lizard goblins wearing aprons bustled about, serving food and taking orders. A group of leprechauns sat at a long table in the back of the room. Jak was watching them when a voice at the next table said, “It’s my turn!”

After glancing at the three women beside them, Jak found it difficult not to stare. With their gray hair, grayish complexions, and long, sad faces, they looked alike enough to be sisters. Two of the women had empty eye sockets, and the tallest had one red-rimmed eye through which she was warily watching the thinnest woman reach toward her face. “Oh, all right!” she said finally. “You can have the eye, but I get the tooth now.”

“You can’t have the tooth yet. I just got it!” declared the shortest of the three, exposing an old, yellowed tooth in her otherwise empty mouth.

“Then hurry up and finish eating,” said the old woman as she plucked the eye out of her socket.

The woman with the tooth grumbled, then took one more bite of the bread she clutched. When she’d swallowed it, she brushed her hand across the table, pushing the crumbs into the hole in the middle. Jak expected the bread to fall through the hole and land on the floor, but it seemed to have disappeared.

Glancing at the tables behind him, he saw that there were holes in all of them. A young man wearing travel-worn clothes and mud-splattered boots dropped a crust into the hole at his table and it too disappeared.

“Here you go, miss,” said Bob, setting the soup in front of Tamisin. “And for you, sir …”

Jak sniffed the bowl set before him. It smelled deliciously mousy with a touch of rat, just the way he liked it. Picking up his spoon, he poked the green artichoke skin covering the custard, but before he took a taste, he glanced at Tamisin. “How’s your soup?” he asked.