ARWIN

  Armed and with the guards dead, Arwin frantically tried to escape. But while the door had no lock, only a simple latch, the mechanism was out of reach to the side of the door. Only someone outside could let him out.

  He stabbed at the door itself, trying to work the knife into the dried rope holding the wood together. Unfortunately, they were even tougher than the wood itself. The sight of his friend sparked guilt.

  Yaz was cornered.

  Though he’d been overjoyed to see the skeleton, he didn’t want the man throwing his long life away. “Seriously, Yaz, make a break for it. You can’t take them all on!”

  Yaz growled, glaring at the amused goblins around him. “Then find a way out of there, and we’ll both go. I’m not leaving you.”

  Arwin ran his hands over the door, madly looking for a weak spot. Frustrated at the lack of one, he turned to the rest of the shallow cave they were using as a prison. He stabbed and kicked at the walls, trying to dig through. It seemed fruitless until he reached the back wall. Kicking here felt different than the side walls. It was…softer?

  He attacked the wall. A smile broke out on his lips as hard-packed dirt and gravel fell away. The goblins had been tunnelling into the earth to build their encampment. Was there another tunnel on the other side of this dirt?

  The knife blade stabbed through up to the hilt.

  Yes! He attacked harder, digging away and slamming his shoulder at the wall. A tiny hole opened up, revealing darkness. He worked at it, widening it, ignoring the sounds of fighting behind him. He had to escape before Yaz fell.

  The hole grew wide enough to stick his head through. He did but saw nothing, only sensing a large, empty space. Another minute and the hole was wide enough to crawl into.

  Sounds of fighting, cheering, and booing sounded behind him, nearly stealing his attention.

  Forcing himself to ignore the uproar, he squirmed through and fell on his head. Picking himself up, he was able to stand hunched over in a passageway. A faint yellow glow flickered a couple of dozen meters down the tunnel. Swiftly, he scuttled towards it.

  Two green goblins sat in front of a heavy, iron-bound wooden door, with a torch set in an iron ring on the wall. The portal looked completely unlike the goblin architecture that Arwin had seen thus far. Perhaps they’d brought it from a settlement they’d sacked. Both of the monsters looked bored and put out at being stuck in here while the fun was happening outside. They were a third Arwin’s size, but they still had sharp teeth, claws, and strange gloves on their hands with metal spikes on them, like a deadlier version of brass knuckles, ones that could impale rather than bruise.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Warning them would be foolish. While he did not enjoy the prospect of killing, even with goblins, Arwin knew he had no choice if he was to survive and have any hope of saving Yaz, let alone the nymphs. So he charged out of the dark, savagely kicking one monster in the skull while slashing and then stabbing the second. After the second died, he turned back on the first before it could regain its senses and jabbed the blade in the goblin’s neck.

  The blade hit spine, and the metal snapped.

  He cursed. He must have weakened it while digging through the wall. Dropping the useless handle, he turned his attention to the door. Much to his surprise, it was not locked. He snorted and shook his head. Goblins. All that security wasted by not checking the integrity of a wall in their prison or locking the very important door.

  Silently opening the door, he peered inside. Only darkness. Taking the torch in one hand, he passed through the opening.

  A small treasury gleamed back at him. The dusty room was two paces wide and three long. The walls were fieldstone and lined with shelving made of stolen shelves and fence boards. There were boxes and buckets of various coins, a wine barrel, and a pile of steel weapons on the floor at the back. He dove at the latter. Searching through them, a half-moon axe that seemed higher quality than the rest caught his eye. Giving it a trial swing, he smacked the edge into a shelf and watched the thick board shatter as if he’d had the strength of an ogre. He looked at the weapon, dumbfounded. Was it enchanted?

  With nothing else of interest, even the money—

  Dude. Wait. Gold?

  He peered closer. A rusty helmet was filled to overflowing with random coins, and yes, as he dug around, many were heavy gold coins, the first he’d ever seen, true, but he was sure of what they were. Then, his eyes caught the leather sack behind the helm, and the gold trickled through his fingers, forgotten.

  The sack was fat and straining at its seams, about the size of a basketball. Sparkling like a rainbow in the torchlight were gems. Hundreds and hundreds of cut gems. Absolutely useless to any goblin and a monumental fortune to any human.

  It grew difficult to breathe as he stared. Emeralds. Rubies. So many diamonds. Blue sapphires. Radiant, miraculous, expensive gems of all kinds. If he took that back to Earth…

  Arwin swallowed, his heart in his throat, his pulse racing so hard that it drowned out the rest of the world. Because if he grabbed this and ran, ran back to the portal and home. He’d be rich. Very, very rich. He would never have to work again for the rest of his life. His children’s children wouldn’t have to work. He could do anything he wanted, follow any dream. Start a business. Become an author.

  He could get Kelli back. Flash a handful of these in her face, spill the sack open in front of her like a rainbow of glory, and she’d come back to him. He was nearly certain of it. After all, there’s no way her new boyfriend could ever earn as much as Arwin now held in one hand, let alone the entire sack of jewels. His every dream come true was right here for the taking, and he could just run off with it.

  But Yaz.

  The nymphs.

  He’d have to leave them all behind.

  He left the treasury and went down the tunnel. Hunched over, it was uncomfortable. He came to a crossing and turned left. That was the direction the nymphs had been taken. Hopefully, he’d find them and a way out of here that way.

  Stalking through the tunnels, the torch was his only light, and his whole body was tense. He could be discovered at any moment. He gritted his teeth at every turn, hoping that all the residents were outside in the gully and that he wasn’t getting himself lost in here.

  A rustle echoed.

  He stopped. His imagination? Listening, he heard nothing more. He turned a corner.

  A crimson-eyed hobgoblin stood there. It backed up a step in surprise. Then it growled and charged, a spiked club in its hands.