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“Training?” Trap shot her a look, her gaze intent. “You may be on to something there. We’ll put them to good use.”
Anrid’s spine stiffened. “You’re going to put them to work?” While she wanted to find them activities, and some schooling would be an excellent idea, she didn’t want to see them used for slave labor. “They’re just children! They should be allowed to play and go to school—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to work them to death. It will be good for them to have something constructive to do.”
Anrid reached for a small goblin lad who tripped and almost face planted into the wall beside her. But before she could catch him, he vanished into thin air. She shrieked and grasped about, trying to figure out what had happened. Where had he gone? Was she losing her mind?
“Did you—where did he—”
Trap caught her elbow to halt her frantic spinning. “Easy, girl. There he is. Over there.” She jabbed a finger across the room, where a little fellow grabbed a fistful of his much-too-large trousers and hiked them up.
“It seems little Gorge can teleport,” the housekeeper said dryly.
Anrid’s heart skipped a beat. “Skadi’s frost. Teleport?”
“Yes, you know: here one minute—pop! Over there the next. The goblinborn do that sort of thing, you know.” She said this matter-of-factly, as if Anrid should know all about it. In fact, she brushed off her hands, clearly deeming the matter settled. “Now, to set these crazies to something useful. I was thinking they might polish runestones. They’ll like that. It’s messy.”
Anrid pressed a hand against her stomach and tried to calm her breathing. She still hadn’t gotten over the Pop! Over there experience that Trap took so casually. “Oh, well, um, we’ll have to clean up after them.”
Trap smirked, her eyes glinting, and adjusted her mobcap like a general putting on his armor and heading off to war. “Pick your battles, love, pick your battles.”
With that gentle reminder, she marched to the door and disappeared, leaving Anrid alone with the children.
It had only been what? An hour? Maybe two since breakfast, which had been a complete disaster, by any definition. Hungry bellies had not deemed the spread sufficient, and a war broke out as the children fought over what little remained in the serving dishes. Already, Anrid needed a nap.
And what if there was more popping about the chamber? What else could the children do? Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she scanned the room and waited for terrifying things to unfold around her. She tried to maintain a calm expression, for the sake of the children, but weariness and discouragement battered at her. This wasn’t where she had expected to be today. Skadi help her, teleporting goblin children? Really?
She’d never imagined that might happen in her wildest dreams.
No, today she should be meeting her betrothed and preparing for her future which was beginning to seem more and more imperiled. Would the dark elf she was supposed to marry wait for her when she didn’t arrive as expected? Would he come searching for her? And what about Dagmar? How were they to contact one another if Anrid wasn’t where she was supposed to be?
A part of her wondered if it would be possible to slip away, to sneak out of Imenborg and try to find her own way back to the surface. But common sense dictated she mustn’t attempt that, not without a guide. She’d considered this option once and tossed it aside. And it had been the right choice: the labyrinths of Agmon had not been exaggerated, the endless tunnels and winding passages certain peril to a traveler unfamiliar with their ways. Attempting to run away would mean a slow death.
A pair of arms wrapped around her knees and hugged. Little Medda blinked up at her, her adorable face wreathed in smiles. Anrid reached down to ruffle her tangled locks, a part of her heart attached to the little goblin.
They were so easy to love, in spite of the wildness. They were like a family of young, feral racoons, cute beyond measure and yet equally as naughty.
“Are you having fun?” Anrid asked.
Medda bobbed her head up and down. “Yeth. Come play, Uh-NEE.”
Her tired body protested the idea, but she couldn’t disappoint the angelic face gazing up at her. Still, she eyed the girl suspiciously, wondering if she was going to do anything magical. What if she could teleport too? Or shoot lightning from her eyes? “All right.” Anrid licked her lips and eased a step closer. “What shall we play? Something safe, yes?”
Medda squealed and pulled away to clap her hands and bounce up and down on her bare toes. “Gimme ride! Gimme ride!”
That sounded harmless enough.
Anrid kneeled so Medda could clamber up her back and cling to her neck. Her shoulder protested until she shifted the goblin child so that her other arm bore more of the burden. The tension eased.
“Go fast!” the child ordered.
So Anrid weaved around brawling goblins and hurried around the chamber. Every once and a while, she inserted a skip to her step that bounced Medda and elicited squeals of delight.
“Boop!” the girl squealed. “Again! Again!”
Rig appeared at her elbow, grinning. “My turn! I want a ride, too!”
But another child—she thought the stocky girl’s name was Ember—clawed at her skirts from the other side. “No, it’s my turn! My turn!”
