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His frown deepened yet again. “Woman, he isn’t a child of yours. He’s one of the goblinborn, and you have no business taking responsibility for him. It will only get you into trouble.”
Goblinborn?
A tremor rippled through her, and she glanced down at Rig. Was that what he was? A goblin?
Jael exhaled an incredulous laugh. “You truly don’t know where you are?”
She tried not to reveal how wildly her heart raced in her chest.
Goblinborn. That meant Jael, also, was a goblin? He looked almost human. Almost elf. But not quite either. And if Rig and Jael were goblins, then that meant...
Her mouth fell open and formed a soundless circle.
“Yes, dear girl, you’re in Agmon.” This time his lips quirked into a wry smile. “Wherever you came from, however you got here, you’re in the domain of the goblins now.”
Anrid’s skin grew hot and itchy. She tugged at her collar as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “I’m sorry...did you say I’m in Agmon?” she asked, feeling rather dull and slow-witted. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Oh, it’s possible,” her goblin rescuer retorted with a grim sort of satisfaction.
Rig made as if to back away, but Jael launched forward with surprising speed and caught the little blighter by the collar. Rig writhed but made no vocal complaint, as if he suspected it would do him little good.
“No, you don’t understand,” Anrid argued. “I was in Gelaira. I couldn’t possibly have walked all the way to Agmon.”
“You could have if you were bespelled.” He shook Rig gently, and the goblin child squeaked. “Did you bespell her, imp?”
Rig caught hold of Jael’s fist and hung on for dear life. “She wanted to come, I tell you! She wanted to come!” He howled as if his life depended on it, and perhaps it did.
Jael of the goblins seemed quite furious indeed.
A bit of sense crept back into her thoughts. Anrid lurched and grabbed Jael by the arm. “Oh, do let him go. He’s just a child!”
“Just a child?” Jael sounded flabbergasted. “You really have no clue what is going on here, do you? Don’t they teach impressionable human girls anything? He isn’t a child. He’s goblinborn.”
Anrid blinked, both hands wrapped around his warm, thick wrist. He was speaking words she understood, but she didn’t understand him at all. Oh, she caught the part where he insulted the intelligence (or at least questioned the education) of human girls. She knew she should be irritated about that, but she couldn’t quite break free of her confusion.
“What exactly do you mean by goblinborn? Does that not mean a child born of goblins? A goblin child?”
“Mostly that is correct.” He snorted and gave Rig another gentle shake.
Anrid tightened her grip on his wrist and scowled at him. “Stop doing that and explain, please.”
The goblin stared at her, hard. “I don’t have time to educate you on the care and upbringing of goblins,” he said. When she continued to hold his gaze and his arm, he sighed. “Goblinborn does not necessarily mean child. He might be forty years old, for all I know. Tell her.” He shook Rig again. “How old are you?”
Rig kicked him in the shin, but Jael tightened his grip on the child’s collar and hefted him off the ground, so he kicked and swung like a puppet on a string.
“Yow! Knock it off! Lemme go!” Rig hollered.
Breathless with panic, Anrid curled her fingers into fists. If Jael didn’t put the child down soon, she was liable to lose control of herself and give him a swift kick to the knees.
“Tell her!”
“All right, all right! Ouch! Twenty and five! I be twenty and five, you big rock turd!”
Twenty and five?
“Watch your language!” Jael barked at the boy.
Anrid shook her head. “What are you talking about? You can’t be more than six? Seven? Ten at the most?”
