“He’s here?” Gretchen sat straighter and looked around.
Mrs. Hughes snorted. “Says he needs to ‘capture the essence’ or some rubbish. If you ask me, he’s only here to make sure the King gets his money’s worth.”
Gretchen mulled that over as Mrs. Hughes set the table and bellowed something out the window to get the goblins' attention. She arranged a tray complete with a small vase and flower, and when Gretchen quirked an eyebrow, she turned her nose into the air and harrumphed.
“For the master.”
She swept out of the room in time for the goblins to come tumbling in with three somber men wearing deep blue hoods. Gretchen sat back as the goblins tore up the oatmeal in front of them, and one of the men nodded her way.
“Greetings. We are the Cauley brothers. You must be the replacement witch?”
Gretchen screwed up her face. “Replacement. Yeah. Gretchen’s the name.”
The brothers folded themselves over the bench across from her, almost in one fluid movement. They seemed unperplexed by the goblins, who were by then mostly covered in breakfast and flicking spoonful’s of sticky goop at one another. Gretchen’s stomach gurgled, and she reached for her bowl and the cauldron.
“So, I’m guessing you boys aren’t part of the fun, eh?” Gretchen narrowed her eyes at the triplets who each wore smirks.
“We are illuminators. Our role is to make this production believable.”
Her heart sank. Wizards. Lowest on the totem pole, but wizards nonetheless. She ate in silence ignoring the goblins who were by then bickering again.
Mrs. Hughes returned and busied herself with a teapot and cups. She shooed the goblins out with the business end of her broom and collected their wooden bowls from the table before setting the tea down.
“Loathsome creatures.” She sighed as she sank down at the table. “I wouldn’t complain if the Prince vanquished them properly.”
Gretchen had poured herself some tea and took a sip when Mandell sauntered in. “Come, now. No time for dillydallying. We must go over the plan and be on our way. “He continued out the kitchen door into the rain. Gretchen set her cup down with a grimace, watching the Cauley brothers rise silently, and follow him.
Mrs. Hughes raised her eyebrows and jerked her head toward the door. “Go on, then. Be off with you.”
With a sigh, Gretchen trudged into the downpour and held her arm over her face to see far enough ahead to make out the red-painted barn. She saw the Cauley brothers round the corner ahead of her and picked up her pace to catch up. They ducked into a smaller door, and Gretchen stumbled over the threshold.
Inside, was the strangest barn she ever saw.
Gawking, she cast around at the walls painted black, and the floors which looked like stone instead of bare dirt. Spikes hung from the rafters and Viragh stood underneath one, rocking back and forth to scratch his back. His big tongue lolled out his mouth and his eye held a dazed look. Gretchen held a hand to her mouth to smother a giggle.
Trestle tables lined up to the side, and Mandell crowded around them along with people in homespun clothes. They scattered as the Cauley brothers approached and didn’t meet Gretchen’s eye on the way out.
“Who are those guys, then?” Gretchen jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
“Stage crew,” Mandell barked.
Gretchen shrugged and glanced at the map on the table as she got closer. Mandell wielded a stick of chalk and was furiously marking a trail on what looked like a mountain ascent. At the sound of the door opening behind them, Mandell’s head snapped up and Viragh ceased scratching. Gretchen turned with a frown.
The Scribe of the Realm held his nose up in the air despite looking like a disgruntled, wet cat. He reached into his cloak with a flourish producing a book and quill saying nothing as he crossed to the table to sneer at the map beside Mandell. Viragh turned and puffed himself up, a sharp contrast to the itchy beast he was a second ago, his whole countenance menacing.
Mandell cleared his throat. “The goblins,” he glanced at Gretchen. “Are the first trial the Prince must face. We will locate them along the forest trail at the bottom of the mountain.”
“Gotcha.” She narrowed her eyes at the scribe, who was already scribbling away.
“From there lies both an abandoned fort and a cave before the bridge across to the Damsel’s tower.” Mandell scrubbed a hand over his face. “Viragh will lie in wait at the bridge where the final battle takes place.”
“Well, I can tell you right now, witches are no good at caves.” She glanced around at the faux cavern. “Why, my great Aunt Esme took it upon herself to set up camp one night by the mouth of one and was never seen again. If you think—”
“You’ll be based in the old fort. The wraith will be in the cave.” Mandell pointed along the map, and Gretchen rubbed her chin.
“So, I’m number two, then. I can live with that. I was never much inclined to go running up and down mountains, got weak ankles you see—”
Mandell’s face burned red as he nodded imperceptibly toward the scribe. Gretchen clicked her teeth together and stared at the little man who looked like he had a turd hanging under his nose. She pitched her voice a little louder.
“Besides, a fort will have the proper facilities to boil a good Prince broth. I prefer to turn em into jam if I can, but I doubt there’ll be many bags of sugar lying around someplace like that.”
Mandell hung his head and gave it a shake. The Cauley brothers sauntered off toward the back of the barn smirking, and the goblins came tumbling in behind them in a rolling pile of hissing and spitting. Gretchen cringed. Prince jam was hardly the stuff of epic sagas.
“We will be on the road in an hour.” Mandell puffed himself up. “We can iron out the details en route.”
Chapter 4
Gretchen cursed as the wagon jolted over another rock. “What do I pay taxes for? The roads in this kingdom are appalling. “She rubbed the small of her back and winced. The rain had cleared on their slow journey north toward the looming mountains, but her damp clothes left Gretchen in a foul mood. Not for the first time she wondered why she didn’t go ahead with Viragh and the portal stone.
One of the Cauley Brothers, she couldn’t tell them apart, chuckled. “We left the boundary of our realm hours ago. These lands have been disputed for generations.”
Gretchen curled her lip and sighed.
“The wraith’s tower is not far ahead. You can rest while Mandell convinces him to join us. “The shared smirks on the brothers’ faces were uncanny.
“Why is this wraith guy such a problem?”
“Because he was a knight in a previous life. He doesn’t much enjoy having to lose.”
Gretchen’s brows furrowed. “We have a few ghostly types around home. Mostly they work at heights surveying the lands. Only do it to afford the ethereal booze they brew up north.” Gretchen rubbed her chin. “I doubt there’s a local watering hole around here. What is this guy’s currency?”
“That’s the trouble. Unlike most wraiths, this one longs to cross over. Seems to think if he can redeem himself, the afterlife will welcome him over to be with his fair lady. Mandell promised him a brew last time to expedite the process.”