Ratface didn’t really have a plan when it came to goblins. She assumed most of them would give her the time of day because she was another goblin but that had been naive of her. Her mother had often ignored other goblins outside their village, and she’d fought hard to be acknowledged by bigger villages.

  Of course, her mother had been a giant and Ratface was sho- a perfectly normal height, so it was probably going to be a little harder for her to be so imposing.

  “I need to warn them about the adventurers,” said Ratface.

  The bald one snorted.

  “We can tell them that, we’ve already seen the adventurer that you let get away.”

  Right. Not her finest moment that.

  “I couldn’t let the empty have them,” said Ratface.

  “Just like a Lurian rat, you’ll bleed out if you keep that up,” said the woman.

  Ratface frowned.

  “You’re not from Lurian?”

  Baldy barked out a laugh.

  “Those fancy ones? Nah we’re from the-”

  “Where we’re from isn’t important,” said the woman. She shot her friend a glare and he held his hands up in surrender. “You still haven’t given me a good reason to take you back to our leader.”

  Ratface realised she was going about this wrong. Why wasn’t she being upfront with these goblins?

  “My village was wiped out by another goblin,” she said, “I know the last spell of goblins and it shouldn’t have been possible, but he did it. I’m just trying to find what’s left of them. I figure your leader will know a bit more or can at least keep an eye out for them. Maybe your friend who isn’t a goblin will know something too.”

  She watched the other two goblins go through a series of emotions as she dropped the different surprises on them. They settled on suspicion.

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  “I’m not trying to trick you. I’m asking for your help. I’m offering mine,” said Ratface.

  The woman ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Fine. Follow us,” she said.

  She led Ratface deeper into the town. Ratface hadn’t been in a settlement this big since the elf city, and she barely remembered that. What struck her as odd was just how many shops and houses littered the place. Most places she’d been had the bare necessities, but these ones had a shop just for different hats. How did they stay in business?

  All of it was gone now. Lost in a father’s sacrifice. It made the already oppressive nature of the place feel extra heavy, knowing that this had all happened to save someone.

  All of that was different at the goblins base.

  It was a small cottage with a yard surrounding it. The nature of having a bunch of goblins around it had changed it, there was tents packed around the place, but the memory of the place shone through.

  The gardens were in full bloom and looked like they’d been meticulously cared for, even the goblins avoided placing their tents anywhere it would bother the garden. She passed into the property and the gentle warmth of the sun draped over her. It was picturesque.

  The whole thing made her skin crawl. It was unnatural. This was what the sacrifice had made. Part of her mind kept trying to insist she was safe her, but all she kept thinking about was the first time she’d met Amaranth. The land had bent to the elf too.

  “Well, if it isn’t the goblin with the ‘not elf’,” said a familiar voice. Ratface looked up and saw the old goblin sitting of the balcony of the cottage. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Halvin must have been a rich man before he died.

  “Calling me Ratface is less wordy,” she said.

  That at least got a small twitch of the lips out of him. He climbed down to meet her. The rest of the goblins went quiet as they watched.

  “Wolfhand,” he said. He held his hand out to her and Ratface shook it. A wolf explained the raiding party. Rats were for building villages and wolves were for war. He’d be clever then. Vicious too, at least to his enemies. Up close, she could see his body was honed from years of war. He was lean, not a giant like her mother had been. He looked like he would flow around the battle until he pounced on you. His eyes crinkled up in amusement as he watched her take it all in.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of a rat?”

  “There’s adventurers here to kill you,” she said. Wolfhand rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t tell me you ran all this way to tell me the sky is blue?”

  Right, no beating around the bush, Ratface had forgotten.

  “I know the last spell of goblins. I’ve seen a goblin cast a spell.” All true. She didn’t mention that she was the goblin that had cast of course. She trusted the goblins of course but there was one person here she didn’t trust. There was a faint gasp from upstairs. She wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t look out for it.

  “So, what’s with the hanger on? Should I be talking to them instead of you?” she asked.

  Wolfhand snorted.

  “So meddlesome. We can talk. If you know as much as you say, you may be useful.”

  He opened the door to the cottage and let her in. Ratface tried not to think about how much it felt like walking into a wolf’s den.