Page 12 of Wicked Little Tricks

“And this woman is the one who owes you a debt?”

“Something like that.” His gaze was distant. After a moment, it dropped down to my jeans. “Are you wearing those silky panties under all that?”

I opened my mouth to curse him out, but he was already gone, only a hint of his laughter remaining. After a heartbeat, that faded too.

Cursing devils and high goblins alike, I approached the gate. There was just a simple latch holding it closed, never a lock. There was no reason for anything more. The magic would keep out strangers, except for me.

I unlatched one side of the gate and pushed it open, sensing the boundary as I tried to step across it. If I did nothing, it would keep me out, but crossing boundaries was like breathing. I shifted slightly to another realm, stepped across the boundary, then shifted back. I couldn’t go entirely into other realms—I didn’t have enough celestial blood. Ever since the Rift, only full celestials and a few powerful night-runners could jumpto the near realms, and no one could go to the far realms, save maybe the most powerful celestials—though none hung around to prove it. The goblins, elves, fae, and plenty of others were entirely cut off from their original homelands. There were many tales of what had actually happened, but most believed that they just stayed on earth too long, and there wasn’t enough magic here for them to get back.

Even if I could reach one of the near realms, I wasn’t sure I’d want to try. The thought of getting stuck somewhere else was terrifying. Many of those who came from their original realms were still alive. They were left to create their own versions of their homelands, along with the boundaries. Some still blamed the celestials for giving them the star maps to travel by in the first place. Others thought the celestials had broken the realms apart intentionally.

Hopefully this Mistral wouldn’t be one of them. Bargaining with a high goblin would be difficult enough without old hatreds getting in the way.

I walked across ruined mossy cobblestones that soon grew further apart and interspersed with muck. The smell near the entrance wasn’t the worst—there was enough grass and the twisted trees added a green scent to the air—but further in the trees grew tall enough to block out the sun, and the scent turned to damp and mildew.

After a while I started passing some tiny ramshackle homes. Their siding was made basically of garbage,found pieces of wood, plastic, glass… anything they could use. Despite the materials, the homes were lovely in their own way, with tiny windows and little peaked roofs. Only little lesser goblins lived in the homes. They weren’t the most intelligent, but they also were never a bother. I noticed a few of them watching out their windows, but none of them made a sound or came outside. They had seen me before, and probably just assumed I was there for a delivery.

Watching the homes too closely, I didn’t react quickly enough as I came upon a puddle of murky water. My boot went down, splashing up enough to wet my jeans. I cursed, whipping my gaze back toward the small homes, but the goblins had all disappeared from their windows.

I shook off my wet boot with a huff, then reached into my messenger bag for three pieces of paper-wrapped taffy. Taking a few steps toward the homes, I placed the taffies on a clean rock. I continued slowly on my way, glancing back occasionally to see the bright pink and blue candy still sitting there. They were almost out of sight when I glanced back again, and they were gone.

Why couldn’t it have been a lesser goblin I was dealing with? They loved candy. They would tell me anything for a few little treats.

High goblins would be further in, at a place called the Citadel. It was a place of tall towers and ruined stone, deep enough in the Bogs that you could barelysee it from the gates. I had never actually been there—I wasn’tthatstupid. Or maybe I was, since I was going there now. Either way, I had a long walk ahead of me, and then an even more arduous task—bargaining with a high goblin.

I reached a fork in the road with a sign pointing east. The sign didn’t actually have any writing, but I knew it pointed toward a village. I had gone there for a few deliveries, and it’s where I went to buy my coffee beans. Most of the goblins there had human blood. They accepted cash or trade, and didn’t deal in arcane bargains and other tricks.

I would be going well beyond the smaller villages. But at least it gave me time to think about what I could possibly give a high goblin for information. I had never met Mistral, so I didn’t know what sort he was, but I knew I had little I could give him. At least, little I waswillingto give.

I kept walking, leaving the relative comfort of a village behind for a long, quiet dirt road. Eventually guttural voices on the path ahead drew my attention. I stopped walking, listening as they neared, until I caught sight of two distant figures.

Cursing again, I hurried off the path, hiding behind a massive damp boulder. I pressed my hands against the cool stone, peeking around it at the two trolls heading in my direction. They were each at least ten feet tall with deeply tanned skin and sparse hair. While the hair was slightly more concentrated on their heads, it trickleddown to decorate their bare shoulders and long arms, clad in strips of leather. Their pants were a patchwork of more leather and other fabrics. The fabrics, while stained, weren’t terribly disturbing, but I didn’t want to think about where they’d gotten the leather. It was well known that trolls would gladly eat their own kind, or humans, or basically anything they came across. These two had a tiny blue creature strung up and dangling from a leather cord.

The creature hung limply in defeat, but I could see its large spherical eyes blinking rapidly. It was covered in blue fur, and had long, rodent-like ears with tufts of darker blue fur at their ends.

Guilt swam through me at the thought of what was going to happen to the little blue goblin. Maybe he was as wicked as the trolls, but I doubted it. Something so cute simply couldn’t be that bad.

I listened as the trolls passed, muttering something about their cookpot.

That poor, cute little goblin… skinned and thrown in a cookpot. Maybe not even skinned, maybe just tossed into the cookpot alive.

Dammit. I could at least follow them for a little while. See if there was anything I could do to help.

I waited until they were almost out of sight, then crept back down the path, following them silently. They didn’t stay on the ruined cobblestones for long, soon diverting toward a muddy path through the trees and bushes.

I followed them, once again grateful for my boots. Maybe if I saved the little blue guy he could tell me where to find Mistral. I doubted the trolls would be willing to chat. At least with all the noise they made in their passing, they never even noticed me.

The murky sun was high in the sky by the time we reached their camp. I hid behind a large tree, watching as the trolls greeted another pair. They all looked similar, though I was pretty sure one was female judging by the shape of her body. But really, it was hard to tell.

One of the trolls used a leather strap to string the blue creature from a tree, then all four went into a cave with wooden planks built partially over the opening. The doorway was tall enough that they barely had to bend down, and a dirty sheet acted as a door.

I listened as the trolls inside discussed if they should skin the goblin, or simply pull out most of its hair. The poor little creature dangling from the tree didn’t make so much as a peep, resigned to its fate.

I judged the distance between me and the goblin, and between the goblin and the sheet-covered doorway. Farther between me and the goblin. I didn’t want him to lose his skin, but I also had my own to worry about. If the trolls caught me, I would end up cooked as well. The devil himself had said he couldn’t come past the boundary. Even if he would consider saving me, I was on my own.

Really, the little goblin should have never left theprotection of its settlement. But then again neither should I, yet here I was.

The goblin swayed in the breeze. The discussion inside had quieted down. I had to make my choice,now.

---