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“Princess?”

“Yes, Itchy-Kitchy?” she whispered back haughtily.

“Does your court do its business in Arvisk now?”

“Of course not, that is just what I speak with slaves like you.”

“Then why did the goblins speak Arvisk?”

She laughed now and pinched me—and I’ll tell you at this moment, I was well tired of women with stronger hands than me giving me fucking bruises—and she said, “Stupid Kitch-a-litch, trying to trick me with nonsense! They spoke Erydoni, the language of kings!”

I thought about this for a moment and guessed that maybe the magic of the mask was to put thoughts directly in the head of the listener. If so, I’d perhaps had a clue about how goblin language might work, with different possible meanings stacked together / combined / contrasted. Just a theory, of course. It could also be that the mask was aimed at Erydoni speech, and the jumbled nature of my translation was because it wasn’t meant for those who spoke the tongue of slaves, Galts, and our mythical elven forebears.

It struck me that this spell was perhaps a lesser cousin to the divine magic of the God of Threes, who had spoken to Galva and me in our own languages simultaneously, though smoothly.

Now because the king wanted Renata to see all she could of these goblin emissaries, and because I was a useful tool to keep the princess amused, cheerful, or at least exhausted from having abused me, I was dragged along for half the day. King Agraias showed the little fuckers his library, though not the printery. He took them for a ride in a cloud-ship, though they were not shown the sathium mine. The cloud-ship ride was last, because of course it was, but seeing goblins in the sky wasn’t the thing that most chilled my blood. What did that was when our cloud-ship passed over a group of figures below, and I saw that they were animals of various kinds, as well as a few kynd and one giant. The minister explained, as one goblin translated for its fellows, that the animals were lame or unwanted, and that the kynd and giant were recaptured runaway slaves or condemned persons.

I got a sick feeling at that.

Now a second cloud-ship passed directly over the column, and a basket attached to the hull was tilted by means of a rope until it began to discharge its freight. I thought, Stones? But it wasn’t stones. It was a rain of heavy, small darts called arrowlets, and their red fletches spun as they fell. The crying from below was awful, and the men and beasts fell or jigged or ran, but mostly fell.

The half-giants on our ship laughed, none more loudly or happily than the princess.

“Now blow them up!” she said. “Blow them raggedy!”

The king smiled at her as if she were the cleverest thing ever made, and that’s when a barrel was pushed from the second cloud-ship, smoking as it fell. I saw the earth fracture and blossom below, and I saw a ring of fire spread out from where it landed. Only later did a great BOOM travel up to us, for I have found sound lags at distance, and also new cries of distress, though fewer. I saw a camel on fire limp in a circle and fall. I wanted to be sick. Then I turned toward the goblin karks stinking up the cloud-ship near the king, and I’ll never forget how they looked. They had forgotten about their masks, and they stared at the destruction below with their horrible faces bare, and their toothy maws agape. I’m no expert on goblin facial expressions, but I know greed when I see it. They wanted the secrets of the half-giants. They wanted thunderdust and cloud-ships. One actually drooled. When it caught me looking at it, it managed to shut its mouth, but there was no mistaking the look it gave me.

It grinned.

Right fucking at me.

We’ll get those weapons, human.

And when we’ve got them, we’re coming back for you.

36Fate’s Cruel Hand

“Something must be done,” Galva said. I had gone to visit her that night knowing good and well I’d be seeing that goblin’s face against my eyelids as I turned and groaned in sleepless worry, so why not worry with a friend?

“I’m wide open to helpful suggestions,” I said.

“Can you kill them?”

“Alone? I doubt it.”

“Can you get me out of here to kill them?”

“Possibly. But then we’ll be dead and the biters will just send more, won’t they? I’m sure they’ve got heaps of creepy little ambassadors, but of meself, I’ve only got the one.”

“That’s not entirely true,” she said, and it made me wonder how other-Kinch was faring, if indeed he was real and in this world with other-Galva. That whole episode had begun to feel like someone else’s dream, but then if it was, how the kark did we get over the Thralls and so much farther south?

“My head hurts,” I said.

“I think we should kill them.”

“You’re for killing any goblin regardless of the cost.”

“You noticed?”