The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom

Feeling bold, she hurried to her dressing table. She sat for a moment and examined her reflection closely, but the mirror behaved in every respect like a good mirror should. It reflected a cozy, personable room and the glorious day outside. There was nothing to indicate the strange happenings of the night before. Nothing, that is, beyond her own peculiar expression. One cannot look entirely ordinary, she considered, after such a horrifying event. Or, although she failed to realize it, after being told one is astonishingly beautiful. She did linger just a minute longer than usual before the glass, turning her head to catch a view of her profile. Then she remembered the goblin’s proposal to flatter her whenever she came near the mirror and jumped up in a huff.

Kate dressed hastily, splashing her face with cold water to bring the color to her pale cheeks. She brushed her hair at the mirror and tried not to think about what she had seen there, but her strange visitor’s every gesture, every word came clearly to mind. She could practically relive the night’s events. What had he said? “You will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”

Good spirits waning, she went to the window to clear her thoughts. No giant black cat waited outside, but a dingy gray squirrel crouched on the tree limb by her room, right where the cat had been. It was facing her window, and Kate had the distinct impression that it was watching her.

She came out to the waiting carriage with a brave smile for her worried aunts, but when a small squirrel came leaping down to the gravel path beside her, she brandished her fist at it and chased it away. She turned back to find all three occupants of the carriage staring at her in bewildered alarm.

“Heavens, Kate!” reproved her sister. “Bullying a squirrel!”

“Hush, Emily!” Prim scolded sharply as she and Celia exchanged anxious glances.

They arrived at the Hall, and the aunts swept in, greeting Mrs. Bigelow. Kate straggled behind, uneasy and irritable. At the door, Emily paused and looked back. She caught Kate’s arm with a grin and pointed at the carriage.

There on the roof crouched the squirrel. It sat up, chattering, and waved its tail at her. Kate had a vision of herself chasing it headlong down the gravel track, yelling like a banshee. No, perhaps she’d better not. She gathered the shreds of her composure about her and stepped through the door. If she shut it behind her with more force than necessary, she was unaware of it. Occupied with her own thoughts, she didn’t see the shocked glances of her aunts as she walked past them to take her place in the dining room. Mrs. Bigelow sat down with the family and summoned the staff to begin serving the meal.

Kate picked at her food. If God is so good, she considered unhappily, why won’t He make this horrible creature go away? But the Romans hadn’t asked permission before hauling the Sabine women away to be their wives, and the ancient tribes were always taking women captive. God gives His creatures freedom to act, her father had taught her, and it is our responsibility to use it correctly. But what if a magical goblin has no intention of using his freedom correctly? I suppose it’s my responsibility to stop him, Kate concluded pessimistically. As well as I know how.

That raised another point. What did she know about how to stop goblins? Nothing whatsoever. She had heard the term applied to mischievous children, and she thought she remembered a story about goblins from her nursery days, something about ugly little creatures with big round eyes who caused trouble to farmers. Kate felt a sense of indignation. Her education had obviously been inadequate. She must learn more, but not from the goblin himself. Kate was sure she wouldn’t escape another encounter with him. Perhaps she could find out something useful from Mrs. Bigelow. She had lived there all her life and was bound to know something about goblins. Maybe she could tell Kate what to do.

The meal was dragging on in awkward silence. No one had been able to think of much to say. Perhaps this was because Hugh Roberts ate without his usual book, paying close attention to the conversation. Kate didn’t know how her aunts felt about this abnormal behavior, but it made her rather uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Bigelow,” she said to the housekeeper as carelessly as she could, “Mr. Roberts told us once that there are lots of folktales about Hallow Hill. Do any of the stories mention goblins?”

Hugh Roberts leaned his large bulk forward and looked at Kate over his spectacles.

“Who has told you about goblins, Miss Winslow?” he asked. “And please don’t try to tell me that it was my cousin.” This was a nice mess, decided Kate, taken aback. She couldn’t possibly answer him.

“I was just curious,” she said.

Her guardian turned to the housekeeper. “Did you tell her?” he demanded.

“Of course not, sir!” that good woman gasped, her pleasant face wrinkled in concern. “I knew you wouldn’t want the young ladies hearing those old stories.”

“So there are stories about goblins!” exclaimed Kate in relief. “I’d very much like to hear them.”

“Don’t you think you’ve heard enough of them already?” her guardian asked her knowingly, but when Kate gave him a puzzled look, he gave her a puzzled look in return. “All right, Mrs. Bigelow,” he sighed, “we’d better hear the stories again. Maybe then we’ll get somewhere.”

“Well, now,” began the housekeeper hesitantly. “Now, you girls know that I’ve never breathed a word about goblins to you. But the truth is, my own grandparents and the folk they lived among would have sworn to you that there were elves and goblins in these hills. Why, when I was a child, there wasn’t a single one of us girls allowed out of the house after sunset. All because the magical folk, you see, they be creatures of the nighttime, and they can’t see in the day.

“The old folks told us that the goblins would steal a girl if they caught her out wandering in the twilight. They’d drag her away to their caverns under the Hill to be a goblin bride. Her hair would turn white, and the color would fade out of her, and she’d become like one of them creatures herself, nursing some squalling goblin brat in those dripping holes down in the Hill. They always did want the pretty ones, the girls who hadn’t been married, so once we were married, you know, we didn’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Kate remembered Marak commenting on how pretty Aunt Celia had been in her youth, but she had been a widow. “That was a real pity,” he had said emphatically. Now she knew what he had meant.

“No one ever did see the goblins or the elves,” Mrs. Bigelow continued, “or if they did, they didn’t let on to have seen them. They be terrible secretive creatures and powerful with magic, and it didn’t pay to cross them at all. Sometimes, old folks said, they’d hear hunting horns at night, and sometimes sounds of battle, but the wise folk barred their doors and pulled their shutters. You see, the elves and the goblins were here in this land long before us, and folks respected their ways.”

“But what were you girls supposed to do if you did meet a goblin?” asked Kate. “Sneeze, or throw salt in its eyes, or say the Lord’s Prayer?”

“There’s no right way to meet a goblin, dearie,” said the housekeeper. “Staying inside at night was all we could do because they’d not take notice of us then. If a girl was to get stolen, well, she was stolen, is all. Sneezing and salting wasn’t going to help.”

“Did you know any girls who got stolen?” asked Emily hopefully.

“Well, no,” Mrs. Bigelow admitted. “Not that there wasn’t the occasional odd bit of news. A girl might go out for a walk and never come back, and her family would never know what had become of her. But there is one story from my grandmother’s day that always scared us young girls into staying safe indoors, and that was the story of Miss Adele Roberts.

“You see, my grandmother said Miss Adele was as bold as any general, and to tell her not to do a thing was the same as to see her do it. Her playmate Miss Elizabeth was a timid little thing, and it may be that encouraged Miss Adele in her outrageousness. If it was riding the half-broken colt or walking a cliff’s edge, Miss Adele would do it, half for the fun of the thing and half to hear Miss Elizabeth’s frantic screams begging her to stop. But they went everywhere together, and for all her frights and shocks, Miss Elizabeth couldn’t bear to be left at home.

“When they were just about old enough to be thought young ladies, folks warned them to stay safe at home at night, and that right away fired Miss Adele’s ambition. She swore she’d be the first to walk into the goblin caves right through their own front door. She’d catch a goblin with her own bare hands or perish in the attempt. And so, evening after evening of those pretty summer days, she was ranging about the woodlands and fields in the twilight, calling for those goblins to come out and show themselves.

“Then came the night the old folks had been waiting on. Miss Elizabeth came running into the house, screaming and crying, and Miss Adele was nowhere to be seen. It seems Miss Adele had been marching up a wooded path with a stick in her hand, whacking at the tree trunks and calling on the goblins, when all of a sudden a whole crowd of creatures leapt from the shadows around her. Then a tall man in a black cloak and hood stepped to her side. He lifted her up in his arms, and the whole crowd melted into the shadows and was gone, with only the sounds of Miss Adele’s screams left behind them to show where they had been.

“Old Roberts stood up looking pale as death, and he called for his master of hounds. The two of them went off with lanterns and the pack on a leash. And when they returned without her in the wee hours of the night, old Roberts called the staff together, and he bade them all good-bye. ‘My daughter is dead,’ he told them, ‘and don’t think you’ll see her again.’ Then he took Miss Elizabeth into the carriage with him, and two good strong lads for protection, and they rolled off into the night. And that was the last Hallow Hill ever saw of the old master or his daughter.”

“Then it’s true!” cried Kate in horror. “Adele did become the King’s Wife!” The entire group turned toward her, stunned. “The goblin King’s Wife,” she hurriedly explained. “Adele had to marry the goblin King, and that creature is her son. He wasn’t lying to us after all, Em.”

Her dinnertime companions couldn’t have looked more astounded. Even Emily gave her sister a baffled look. Hugh Roberts took off his spectacles and polished them with his napkin.

“What on earth are you talking about, Miss Winslow?” he demanded.

“I’m talking about terrible danger,” insisted Kate urgently. “Please, you have to send me away from here! They got Adele,” she said with a shudder, “and who knows how long she survived down there, but they’re not going to get me.”

“You think goblins are trying to get you?” asked her guardian in surprise.

“I know he is,” answered Kate firmly. “He told me so.” Hugh Roberts put his spectacles back on and stared at her over them. Then he turned to her sister.

“Miss Emily, you went on that adventure, too. Do you know anything about this?” His younger charge shrugged and shook her head.

“Of course she doesn’t,” said Kate. “He told me last night. He said his first wife died childless, and I’m ideal. But they can’t see in the daytime,” she added, planning rapidly. “If I leave now, maybe I can travel beyond their reach by nightfall.” She began calculating how long it would take to pack and what she would need to bring. The others at the table exchanged apprehensive glances, their meal quite forgotten.