CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Calista
The goblin market looked exactly the way I thought it would and beyond what I imagined. Similar to a bohemian tent city, vendors filled the cobblestone streets along the east side of the castle walls. Handmade wares hung from the tent poles and filled tables and shelves. Most of it was necessities such as tools, cooking utensils, food, and clothing, but some of it was unique, artsy, even exotic. From the moment we entered, I found myself trying to dart from tent to tent, excited by what I would discover.
Jessandra pinched the nape of my neck and held me hostage in front of her. “We are on a mission.”
I pouted, feeling like a child on a leash while goblins added items to their bags and wagons before weaving through the crowd to the next booth. “But Astaroth said I could have whatever I wanted.”
“Another day.”
“Another day,” I wagged my head, mocking her under my breath.
Her next words were right by my ear and sliced straight through to my heart. “You’ll have plenty of them.”
That knocked the wind out of my sails. An overwhelming surge of grief and homesickness replaced the momentary joy and settled in my gut. It was heavy and nauseating, and at this moment I wanted nothing more than to be oblivious again so I could take a break from it.
“This way.” Jessandra directed me to a fork in the road.
Behind the line of tents stood a row of buildings with hanging wooden signs. The first had a cleaver, the second a loaf of bread, and the third a candlestick with the little finger loop. Just beyond that, was a sign with a needle and thread.
A bell tinkled when Jessandra opened the door to the ramshackle old shop. Bolts of fabric in an array of dark colors lined the walls. I wasn’t one for bright colors, but with everything being so drab, it would be nice to see something colorful.
“What do you want?”
I followed the gruff, feminine voice and discovered one of the tiniest goblins to date. She stood about two feet tall and looked older than Methuselah with a measuring tape hung loose like a scarf around her neck. The garb she donned resembled an ancient nightgown worn by a heavy chain-smoking mummy. I didn’t trust her abilities one bit in her goblin muumuu.
“She needs dresses. Fit her for whatever she wants and send it to the castle,” Jessandra said, then went to leave.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Outside. If I am gone when you’ve finished, stay until I return.”
“But—” The whole building shook when the door slammed shut, but the seamstress didn’t seem concerned about it.
The goblin hobbled over to me using a ruler as a cane. “Well, we haven’t got all day. Strip.”
“Excuse me?”
Her eyes rolled up to look at me in an annoyed fashion. “I can’t properly measure you if you’re wearing…whatareyou wearing?”
I jerked back when her chubby baby hand tugged on the shin of my sweatpants. “Um, joggers.”
She squinted at the seam then lightly swatted me with the ruler. “Strip.”
I looked around, hesitant to disrobe in the middle of a shop where anyone could walk in at any moment.
“No one is coming in today,” she said as she climbed up a rickety ladder with a round pedestal on top. Once she reached the top, she stood about five feet tall. The pockets of her gown filled to overflowing with notions. “Everyone is at the market.”
Watching the door, I quickly removed my clothing, thankful I wore decent underwear. I almost snorted thinking about the dirty little goblins judging me for my underwear choices when they probably didn’t wear any under their worn, itchy looking pants held up by twine. Now that I thought about it, why did it matter what I wore when most everyone else looked like hobos?
“What’s your name?” I asked as she slid the measuring tape from her neck and stared at the pendant around mine.
“That’s a lovely trinket.” She tossed the ribbon about my neck and tightened it before loosening it and measuring around my shoulders. “They call me Bobbins.”
I ignored her compliment and smiled when she released one end and reeled the tape in. “That’s a cute nickname.”
Bobbins paused before laying the tape along the length of my arm. “I suppose. Turn.” She measured across my shoulders. “And you are the talk of the realm.”
