Nine Goblins(42)

There was no change in the humming. It was a tuneless little repetition, hmm-hmm-hmm-hm-hm-hmm-hm, in no particular order.

Why don’t I have a crossbow? I could shoot it from here and save us all the trouble. She should have borrowed one from Sings-to-Trees. Surely he had one for dealing with…something. Rabid foxes or rogue deer or whatever.

She crept the length of the pew, shot another look at the fire—it appeared to be made out of broken chairs and cushions from the pews—and looked for the human. It had moved a foot or two to one side, and was fumbling with something on the ground.

Probably wants syrup on its pancakes, she thought darkly.

She took the chance and scurried to the next pew, and then she heard a quiet glug and had a hysterical urge to laugh, because that was exactly the sound of somebody pouring out syrup.

The tuneless humming stopped, and was replaced by the scrape of fork on plate, and the sounds of chewing. Nessilka doubted she would have been able to hear either if the town had not been so deadly silent.

Did she dare risk another pew?

She had just decided to go down the length of the pew to the far end and use that concealment to move forward when she heard the door creak.

It was louder this time, and damnit, Murray still had his earplugs in, so of course he didn’t hear it, and if they got out of this alive, she was going to box his ears—

The eating noises stopped.

“Hello?” said a voice, shockingly close. Cloth rustled as the human stood up. “Is someone there?”

She stood up. If the human fixed on her, maybe it would overlook Murray.

It was standing less than five feet away. It still had a fork and a plate of pancakes in its hand. Blonde hair poked out from under the cloth on its head, and it—she?—stared at Sergeant Nessilka with wide blue eyes.

“Um,” Nessilka said. “Hi?”





EIGHTEEN





“You’re a goblin,” said the human girl, sounding strangely aggrieved, as if she had been expecting someone else.

“Goblin,” said Nessilka. “Yes. Absolutely. Born and bred. You can tell by the feet, see?”

She held up a foot. This was not strictly necessary, as any idiot could have identified Nessilka as a goblin at a hundred paces, but while the girl was looking at her foot, she was not looking at Murray, who had damn well better be hunkering down behind a pew and pretending to be a prayer book.

“It wasn’t supposed to be goblins,” said the girl.

“Um. Sorry.” Nessilka was not going to go for her club. It would probably be sensible to go for her club, and she knew this human was going to be bad news—innocent bystanders did not make pancakes while surrounded by the piled dead—but it was surprisingly hard to hit a kid who wasn’t doing anything but staring at you. Even a human kid.

I am going to regret this later, thought Nessilka, I know I am, but I’m still not going for my club, what am I, stupid, why am I not going for my club…?

“So…are you here all alone?” she asked instead.

“Oh, yes,” said the girl, a faint tremor in her voice. “The wizard came and—it was horrible—all those people—” She put her face in her hands, and her hair fell down over it in a perfect picture of misery.

Nessilka did not buy this for a second. She supposed it was possible that it was just because humans were The Enemy, but all her sergeanting instincts told her there was a little too much practice in that delivery. If a new recruit had come to her with that kind of theatrics, she’d have knocked him down and had Thumper sit on him until he told the truth.

“I’m an orphan,” sobbed the girl.

“So am I,” said Nessilka. “We could bond, if you like.”

Somehow she didn’t think the girl was going to take her up on the offer.

“The wizard said these words…”

“Wizard, hmm?” She folded her arms and leaned against the back of the pew. She was pretty sure the girl was watching her from behind her hands and that curtain of hair. “Where did he go?”

“It was so awful! He said these words, and—all those people—”

“Yes, yes,” said Nessilka, “you said that bit already.” She caught a glimpse of Murray peeking out behind the pew and gave him a death glare. He had the grace to look ashamed, mouthed Sorry, Sarge, and pulled back out of sight.

“He left,” said the girl, sniffling. “And then everybody was dead and my brother is gone and I was all alone—”

“Overlooked you, hmm?” Nessilka began wandering down the aisle towards the altar. Anything to get her eyes away from Murray—maybe he’d be able to slip out the door, not that she could trust him to do anything so sensible...