Wednesday, June 3, 2026

Chapter 18: The Battle in the Tunnels (Revised)

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[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and these two Gemini Chats: here and here.]

Chapter 18: The Battle in the Tunnels

Alfred looked at Jack, his chest tightening. “Why would we go to the goblins? Shouldn’t we try to escape instead?”

“Oh there’s no escape,” Jack said.  “Believe me, I’ve tried.  The goblins keep all the tunnels guarded.  We couldn’t get to one of the exits before they all swarmed all over us and dragged us back down to the caves.”

“I see,” said Alfred.

“We should get going now,” said Jack.  “We need to hurry back to the others.  The goblin king will be angry if we are late.”

“And what happens if he is angry?” asked Alfred.

“Lots of stomping and yelling,” answered Jack.  “Sometimes he throws things.  And then, they get out the whips.”

Jack led Alfred deeper into the subterranean maze, where the air grew thick with the smell of damp earth and sulfur. They finally halted at the entrance of a cavernous throne room.

To Alfred’s surprise, Jack immediately dropped to his knees, bowing low. Alfred remained standing, his jaw set.  

“Your majesty,” Jack said to the figure on the throne.  “I have brought my friend to you, as I have been ordered.”

“Excellent,” said King Grinthal barked. He was barely three feet tall, but he sneered with absolute authority. “Now, get down to the mines at once.  You’re late.”

Jack hesitated, glancing back at Alfred. “Your majesty, he hasn’t eaten anything yet.”

“That is his fault,” Grinthal snapped.  “The rest of the children have had time to eat.”

“But he was only just now captured by your soldiers,” Jack said.  “He couldn’t possibly have had time to eat anything.”

Grinthal narrowed his bead-like eyes. “Oh, very well. He may stay and eat. You—go and start digging.”

Before scurrying off, Jack grabbed Alfred tightly by the elbow.  “King Grinthal has a terrible temper,” Jack whispered quickly.  “You mustn’t say anything that will contradict him.  Just eat your gruel as quickly as you can, and then come down and join us.”

Grinthal jabbed a hairy, spindly finger toward a long wooden table. It was cluttered with the messy, abandoned bowls of the other children. Alfred sat down reluctantly. A moment later, a scurrying goblin servant slammed a fresh bowl of grey gruel in front of him.

Alfred stared down at the sludge. His stomach churned; he was far too overwhelmed trying to process his kidnapping to think about food. He looked back up at the throne. “So, where am I exactly?”

Grinthal flew into a sudden, shrieking rage. He jumped off his throne, his short legs hopping up and down on the stone floor. “Didn’t that boy Jack explain things to you? He was supposed to tell you everything so I wouldn’t be bothered by your stupid questions!”

“Well, yes, he did tell me some things,” Alfred began.  “But I was wondering--”

Grinthal hurled his golden scepter straight at Alfred’s face. Alfred ducked just in time, and the heavy metal clattered loudly against the stone wall behind him.

“Then be quiet!” Grinthal roared, his entire body shaking, the short brown hair covering his arms bristling with rage. “Speak only when you are spoken to! Do not disturb the great king!”

Grinthal looked just like any other goblin, which is to say he was short.   Goblins are about 3 feet high.  They have short legs, and long spindly arms, and their whole bodies are covered with short brown hair.  And they have short tempers.  It’s very easy to upset them, and to get them hopping up and down in anger, just like Grinthal was doing now.

“Eat your gruel!” Grinthal commanded.  “You have a long day of digging in the mines, and you must build up your strength.”

“But why must I dig--” Alfred began, but he was cut off when Grinthal threw the orb at him.


*************************************************************************

Catherine, Carlyle, Shawn, Kevin, Molly and Lucinda stood at the mouth of the goblin tunnels, the damp, earthy stench of the underground washing over them.

“So what do we do now?” Molly whispered, staring into the black expanse. “Do we go in?”

“We do,” Catherine said, her voice steady. “We go in and we find Alfred.”

“But there are goblins inside,” said Shawn.

“No one is forced to come inside,” Catherine said.  “You may come if you wish.  Otherwise, you may stay behind.

Silence fell over the group as they all looked at each other. Shawn was the first to break it, gripping the hilt of his father’s sword. “I’m in. We aren't leaving him.””

Molly lifted her massive wooden staff, her knuckles white. “Me too.”

“Someone has to keep you boys alive,” Lucinda muttered, adjusting her grip on her spear. Kevin didn't speak, but he stepped up beside her, his huge club resting heavily on his shoulder.

“We should have someone stay back to communicate with the rest of the group,” Carlyle said, adjusting Finn’s old sword at his hip. “Just in case. If anything goes wrong, they need to know where we went.”

“I can help,” said Bettina the raven.  “I’ll fly down and let them know where you are.”

“That would be a great help to us,” said Catherine.  

Then, Carlyle, Catherine, Shawn, Lucinda, Molly and Kevin all stepped into the Goblin tunnels.  

Darkness swallowed them instantly. (They didn’t know it yet, but the moonstones which Alfred had seen were only located in the parts of the tunnels where the goblins allowed their child slaves to go.  The entrances and exits to the tunnels were kept in blackness.) 

But then, Catherine closed her eyes and began to hum. Slowly, her hands began glowing with the yellow electricity.

 The tunnel sloped sharply downward. They walked in single file, the air growing thick and hot. Suddenly, a screech echoed ahead. 

A single goblin stood in the center of the path, its bulbous eyes blinking furiously in Catherine’s electric light. It let out a piercing, high-pitched squeal, turned on its heel, and scrambled into the darkness.

The goblin was evidently more scared of them than they were of him.  But still, there was something about that little scream which shocked and unnerved them.  They were all silent for a bit after the goblin had cried out.  Shawn let out a nervous little chuckle, and tried to break the tension with a laugh.  “I didn’t know that’s what they sounded like,” he said.

“If they all run away like that, then we shouldn’t have much to worry about,” said Molly, though she didn't lower her staff.

“Unless he’s going to sound the alarm, and come back with his friends,” said Lucinda.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Carlyle.  “Keep your weapons ready just in case.”

Catherine didn’t join the conversation. She couldn't. She just kept humming, the yellow light casting long, dancing shadows against the stone.

They walked through the tunnel a little bit more.  The path sloped steadily downward, and they walked with Catherine’s light leading the way.

But then, there was some light in the tunnel up ahead.  These were the moonstones that Jack and Alfred had seen earlier.  It was the start of a larger open tunnel. 

They walked into the larger, more open tunnel, and there was a large group of about fifty goblins assembled.  They all carried little knives, and some of them had pitchforks.  And they looked ready for battle.

They didn’t get much of a chance to say anything to each other before the goblins rushed in and attacked.  

The clash was a chaotic blur of noise and violence. Lucinda thrust her spear forward, keeping a cluster of the creatures at bay with precise, lethal stabs. To her right, Molly swung her giant staff in wide, brutal arcs, the heavy wood cracking against goblin ribs and sending them flying backwards. Kevin wielded his club like a blacksmith’s hammer, bringing it down in crushing overhead strikes onto the goblin’s skulls. 

Shawn and Carlyle fought shoulder-to-shoulder, their swords flashing in the dim light, parrying low stabs and slashing back. 

Through it all, Catherine never stopped humming.  Her hands were always glowing with power, and whenever a goblin tried to touch her, she reached down and grabbed hold of him, and sent a surge of electricity surging through him, sending the goblin yelping away.

Against one man, fifty goblins was a death sentence. But against six armed, desperate warriors, the horde began to waver. Step by step, the group pressed forward, driving the diminutive warriors back.

“Where is Alfred?” Carlyle roared over the din, parrying a knife. “Where is our friend? What have you done with him?”

The goblins only gave excited squeaking sounds, and high pitched chittering in response.  They jumped up and down, and generally made a lot of noise, but they made no sense.  Clearly they were excited beyond the capability for coherent speech.

“Keep advancing,” Shawn called out.  “Keep fighting.  We’re beating the back slowly.”

But just as Shawn said that, there was a commotion behind them.  They turned around, and saw a second group of goblins coming from the other direction.  Now they were trapped between two groups--fifty goblins in front of them, fifty goblins behind them.

“Don’t panic!” Carlyle yelled, his voice cracking. “Split up! Shawn, Molly, with me on the rear! Catherine, Kevin, Lucinda, hold the front!  If we stay organized, we can still fend them off.”

“For how long?” Kevin cried out, his club trembling in his hands.

Carlyle didn’t answer.

 “This was a mistake!” Kevin yelled. ““We shouldn’t have come into the goblin caves.  There’s nothing but goblins down here.  Even if we can fight our way out from these groups of goblins, there will be just more and more groups of goblins further down the cave. We're never getting out!”

“Shut up, Kevin!” Shawn snarled, driving his blade forward. “Keep hitting them!”

Catherine, who had still not spoken because she was busy humming, started lashing out at the goblins more furiously.  Her hands began swiping left and right, touching as many goblins as she could and sending charges of electricity into them.

And then, they saw more goblins rushing down to join the fray.  They could see them run down from the far end of the tunnels to help their comrades.

Eventually, they began to get tired.  Molly’s arms ached as she swung the huge staff back and forth; her swings grew slow and heavy.  Kevin’s shoulder was tired from swinging the club.  Lucinda could barely hold on to her spear anymore.  

A goblin seized the end of Molly’s staff, then another, and another, their combined weight dragging the wood to the floor. Kevin screamed as a pitchfork caught his shoulder, his club slipping from his slick, sweaty fingers. Lucinda’s spear was yanked from her hands by a swarm of small, clawed hands. 

Carlyle slashed furiously, but three goblins leaped onto him and started climbing all over him, their sharp little teeth sinking into his arms. He roared in pain, his fingers opening, and Finn's sword clattered against the stone.

“Don’t kill them,” came a sharp little voice from the back.  “King Grinthal wants them alive.”

“But they cracked my skull!” one of the frontline goblins whined.

“You idiot!  They are not yet full grown.  We can use them.  We need more slaves in our mines.  Tie them up.”

Eventually they all were subdued, and goblins with heavy ropes soon came and climbed over them and tied them up.

Catherine was the last one to be subdued.  Although she had electric power surging through her hands, the goblins had learned. They avoided her hands, diving instead for her ankles. She kicked and swiped downward, scattering a few, but three more took their place. As quickly as she fought back, they came on. A heavy rope wrapped around her shins, pulling taut. With a gasp, she lost her footing and crashed to the ground. The fall knocked the breath from her lungs. Her humming broke. Then the goblins swarmed over her, and tied up the rest of her.

And then they were, all of them, bound.

Thursday, May 28, 2026

Chapter 17: Alfred is Missing (Revised)

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[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and this Gemini Chat.]

Chapter 17: Alfred is Missing

Catherine slept soundly, only waking at dawn when the wolves began to stir.  As they stretched, yawning and barking at the first rays of the rising sun, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning,” said Branoc, shifting his feathers..  “You have slept well.”

“I did,” she admitted.  

“And it was just as well,” said Branoc.  “For there was no reason for you to be awake.  The night has passed completely without incident.”

“No one attempted to enter the cave?” Catherine asked.

“No one.  None of the robbers tried to attack you.  And none of the other monsters from the mountains approached either.”

“Yes, it sounds like the robbers have been paying them off,” said Catherine.  “That probably explains why they don’t get bothered.  Okay, let me wake Alfred up then, and we’ll see about making some breakfast.”

But when Catherine went to the back of the cave, Alfred was nowhere to be seen.

“Did Alfred already go out?” Catherine asked the ravens.

“Nobody has gone in or out of the caves,” Baldrick replied.  

“Then where did he go?” Catherine asked.

“He should still be back there,” Bettina replied.  “He never left the cave.”

Catherine thought for a moment, while the wolves and ravens watched her.  Then, she said, “Fetch me the king of the robbers.”

Baldrick, Balsamer and Branoc flew off, and a couple of the wolves ran after them.  Bettina was going to join them, but Catherine stopped her.  “Bettina, wait,” Catherine said.  “I have another job for you.  Fly around the mountain quickly. See if you can spot any signs of Alfred anywhere.”  Bettina nodded and flew off.

Catherine went out of the cave into the morning sun.  Then she saw Carlyle coming up the mountain . Shawn, Kevin, Molly and Lucinda were with him. 

Catherine strode down to meet them.  As she approached, Carlyle opened his mouth to voice a greeting, but before he could say anything, Catherine blurted out, “Alfred’s missing.”

Carlyle stopped dead, his mouth still half-open. He blinked, the greeting dying on his tongue. “What? What happened?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Catherine answered.  “We went to sleep in the caves.  Then, when I woke up, he was gone.”

“Did the robbers come in and get him?”

“They couldn’t have.  The ravens were keeping watch at the cave entrance all night.  No one came in.”

“Then what happened?” asked Shawn.

“I don’t know,” Catherine said.  “But there’s something that the robbers aren’t telling us.  And I’m going to find out what it is.  We need to talk to the robber king.”

Verus, the robber king, was aroused from his sleep by cawing ravens and growling wolves, and he came out to meet Catherine and Carlyle.  He walked out calmly, grinning wickedly.  “Hello my children,” he purred.  “And what can I do for you today?”

“What happened to Alfred?” Catherine asked.

The robber king just grinned more.  “And who is Alfred?” he asked.

“The boy who was sleeping in the cave with me,” said Catherine.  “He disappeared in the middle of the night.”

“And what makes you think I had anything to do with it?” asked the robber king.

“I don’t think you’re directly responsible,” said Catherine.  “But you know something about these caves which we don’t.”

“Indeed, I do,” Verus answered.  “I suspect I know many things about these caves which you do not.  But then, there are many things that you never bothered to ask about.”

“We’re asking now,” said Carlyle.

“And we won’t ask you again,” said Catherine.  “Tell us, what happened to Alfred?” 

Catherine started humming, and her hands glowed with the electric power.  But Verus merely chuckled. “I don’t know for sure,” he said, “but I suspect the goblins took him.  That cave in which you slept is connected to the goblin tunnels.  They have a secret door.”

“Show us where the door is,” said Carlyle.

“I would,” Verus said, “But I actually don’t know where it is myself.  All I know is that there is a door in that cave somewhere.  That’s why we usually don’t sleep in it ourselves.  We leave some of our treasures there, and the goblins take what they want, and in return, they leave us alone.”

“Why did the goblins take Alfred?” Catherine asked.

“Who can say? One hears stories sometimes of the goblins abducting children.  Your friend Alfred isn’t quite a child, but he’s not a full grown man yet either.  Perhaps he was young enough to be of interest to the goblins.”

“But what did they want him for?” Catherine persisted.

“No one knows,” Versus said.  “Goblins abduct children.  This is all we know.  If you want to find out what happens to the children after the goblins abduct them, you’d have to ask the goblins.”

“Why didn’t you warn us yesterday?” Carlyle demanded.

Verus shrugged.  “We submitted to you yesterday.  I have not raised my hand in violence against you since then.  Isn’t that enough?   We never agreed that I was obliged to help you in any way.  The goblins are not under my control.  I did not command them to take your friend, nor would it have been in my power to forbid them.”

Carlyle moved to take his sword out of his sheath, but Catherine held out her hand to stop him.  “Leave it be, Carlyle,” she said.  “He’s spoken fair enough.”  She turned back to Verus.  “Very well, Robber King,” Catherine said.  “You have not acted as an enemy.  But neither have you acted toward us as a friend.  We will remember this.  If you wish to become our friend, you must do better.”

Verus did not say anything in response, but the smile was fading slightly from his mouth.  Something in Catherine’s tone made him suddenly feel anxious.  

“You may go now,” Catherine said to Verus.  Verus bowed his head slightly and left.  The smile was now completely gone.

“Do you think Alfred is okay?” Carlyle asked Catherine.

Catherine was looking slightly pale.  “I don’t know,” she said.  “We’ve never heard of anyone coming back from the goblins.  Still, we have to try.”

“If we can find the secret door…” Carlyle began.

“…we can go down and get him,” Catherine finished.

“But that’s crazy,” Shawn exclaimed.  “You can’t go down into the goblin caves like that.  The goblins will kill you.”

“We aren’t leaving Alfred,” Catherine said flatly.

“Alfred risked his life to fight with us,” added Carlyle.  “Even when his father tried to stop him.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a new thought struck Carlyle.  “Oh no, his father!  How are we going to tell Alfred’s father about this?  He already wants to kill me.”

“There’s no point in telling him anything now,” Catherine said.  “It would only worry him unnecessarily.  Let’s see if we can get into the goblin caves first.”

“But we don’t know how long that could take us,” said Carlyle.  “And Alfred’s father could come up here at any time demanding to know where Alfred is.”

A soft rustle of wings cut him off. Bettina was returning from her flight around the mountain and dropped down onto Catherine’s shoulder. “I heard what you were just saying,” Bettina said.  “I couldn’t find Alfred anywhere.  But I did see his father, and I wouldn’t worry about his father coming up here anything soon.  Right now, Alfred’s father is actually journeying down the mountain.”

Carlyle and Catherine exchanged a bewildered look.  “What is he going down the mountain for?” Carlyle asked.   

“I don’t know,” Bettina said.  “I only know what I see..”

“Who is he traveling with?” asked Catherine.

“He is by himself,” Bettina said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Carlyle.  “He knows how dangerous it is to travel down the mountain by himself.  Why would he do it?”

“Do you want me to fly down and ask him?” offered Bettina.

“No,” Catherine said quickly.  “Don’t bother him right now.  We need to try to rescue Alfred before he finds out his son is missing.”

“The first thing we need to do is try to find the secret entrance the goblins use,” said Carlyle.  “Let’s see if we can get some torches to light up the cave.”

“There’s no need,” said Catherine.  “I can provide the light.”

  Catherine started humming, and her hands glowed again with the bright yellow energy.

Carlyle watched this with concern.  It had been a few days now since Catherine had first demonstrated this power.  But Carlyle still did not understand what was going on, and he had not had the opportunity of asking about it before now.  “How are you doing that?” Carlyle asked.  Catherine didn’t answer,  so Carlyle asked again, “How are you doing that?”

Catherine stopped humming.  The yellow electricity faded.  She turned and looked at Carlyle with an annoyed expression.  “I can’t keep it going if I have to answer your stupid questions.  It only works if I keep humming.”

“But how are you doing that?” Carlyle asked for the third time.

“I don’t know,” said Catherine.  “Something is wrong with me.  I don’t know what it is.  That’s all I know.  Now come on, let’s find that entrance.”

With Catherine leading the way, they all went back to the cave.  Catherine illuminated the cave with her humming and her electric lights, while they searched along the cave floor and the cave walls.  The ravens helped as well, flying around the cave and checking everywhere.

It was Molly who found it.  “Over here guys,” she said excitedly.  There was a small crack in the cave wall. I can feel the air coming through it.  There must be something on the other side.  Maybe this is the entrance.”  

Kevin and Shawn rushed over, jamming their fingers into the seam, straining until their faces turned red. The stone didn't budge an inch.

“There must be lots of tools here among the thieves’ treasures,” Carlyle suggested.  “Go through all the boxes until we find something we can use.”

Moments later, they returned with heavy iron hammers, chisels, and a thick awl. They threw themselves at the crack, the sound of metal striking stone echoing deafeningly through the cave. But despite their sweat and effort, the hidden door remained stubbornly shut.

“Let me try,” said Catherine.

“It’s no good,” Kevin panted, wiping sweat from his forehead.  “We all tried.  We can’t get it open.”

Catherine ignored him.  She stepped up to the wall, pressing both palms flat against the cold stone, and concentrated as hard as she could. She kept the humming going while she did this, and the energy was flowing through her.  But she tried to focus it this time.  She felt like she was getting better at directing it.  

Under her hands, the stone door began to glow a dull, angry red.

“Catherine, how are you doing that?” asked Kevin.

“Don’t talk to her,” said Carlyle.  “It distracts her.  She needs to keep humming.”

The stone wall kept burning bright red, and then it turned white.  “Stand back,” Shawn advised the others.  “Don’t touch it.”

A sharp CRACK rang out like a thunderclap.

The stone wall spiderwebbed with a hundred brilliant fractures, and then, it shattered inward into a thousand smoking fragments.

As the dust settled, the flickering light of Catherine's hands revealed a yawning, pitch-black void. The goblin tunnels lay open before them.

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Chapter 16: In the Goblin Caves (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and these Gemini Chats: here, here and here.]

Edits to make:

  • In the previous chapter, change it so that only Catherine and Alfred are left in the robber caves

  • In previous chapters, change references to fighting goblins (goblins only fight by swarms)

Chapter 16: In the Goblin Caves

The wolves had made themselves thoroughly at home in the largest cave.  They had been used to sleeping out on the cold snowy ground, but the cave offered sufficient protection from the elements.  The stone floor was hard, but Catherine had taken some of the thick quilts and blankets from the robbers’ stolen hoard, and spread them out for the wolves to lie down on.  Seldom had the wild beasts had such luxury, and they stretched out happily on the blankets and went to sleep.

The robbers slept in the other four caves.  But Catherine and Alfred opted to sleep in the same cave as the wolves.  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in the same caves as the robbers?” Balsamer the raven asked.  “I thought the whole point was to keep an eye on them.” 

“We don’t want to push things too fast just yet,” said Catherine.  “Just being in their camp is enough for the first few nights.  Once they get used to us, then we can start sleeping in their caves.”

“You don’t need to worry about a thing,” Branoc said to Catherine.  “My children and I will keep watch for you all night.  If any danger approaches, we’ll wake you up.”

“You have my gratitude,” said Catherine. 

“My family is forever in your debt,” Branoc said, spreading out his wings and lowering his head, which is a bird’s way of bowing.

“Okay, for the first night then, let’s try it like this,” Catherine said.  “We’ll have the ravens at the entrance of the cave keeping guard.  I’ll sleep just behind them with the wolves.  That way, if the robbers do decide to break their promise and attack in the middle of the night, the ravens can wake me up, and I can gather the wolves and organize a defense.  Alfred, you sleep behind the wolves, towards the back of the cave.  It’ll be safer back there.”

“I should be the one sleeping at the front of the cave,” said Alfred.  “I’m the man.”

“You’re a boy,” Catherine said.  “You’re younger than me.”

The dying light was too dim to see the crimson rush to his cheeks, but Catherine didn't need to. She saw the way his jaw clamped shut and his shoulders went rigid as stone. The barb had hit its mark.

“Besides,” said Catherine, softening her tone just a fraction, “you don’t control the wolves.  They won’t listen to you if you tell them to attack.”

“But I can still sleep up at the front with you.  I don’t need to hide at the back.”

“It’s not hiding.  It’s strategy. If, by some chance, the robbers do manage to rush in and grab me before I have a chance to wake up, then we don’t want them grabbing both of us at once.  We want you further back so you have a chance to wake up before they get to you.  That way you can rescue me.”

Alfred stared at her, his defensive posture melting just a bit as his pride was stroked. “I guess... when you put it that way, it makes sense,” he admitted. With a muttered goodnight, he turned and trudged into the darker recesses of the cavern.


Settling down among the rise and fall of warm fur, Catherine closed her eyes, listening to the wind howl outside.


****************************************************


And so it happened that in the middle of the night, while Alfred slept soundly near the back of the cave, they came for him. A sudden weight crashed onto Alfred’s chest, ripping him from a sound sleep. Before a scream could clear his throat, a foul-smelling cloth was shoved into his mouth, choking out the sound. He lashed out, intending to kick, but he found that his legs had already been bound with ropes.  He squirmed and wriggled against the crushing pressure of dozens of hands, but it was useless. There were too many of them—a swarming mass of at least fifty creatures. Pinioned and helpless, he was dragged down, down into the suffocating dark of the hidden tunnels far below the cave.


***************************************************************

When Alfred next awoke, the world smelled of damp earth, copper, and old rot.

He bolted upright, gasping as his knuckles scraped against rough, freezing stone. His head throbbed in time with a slow, rhythmic pulse. By all rights, he should have been in pitch blackness, but an eerie, milky luminescence washed over the space. Looking up, he saw veins of pale rock embedded in the tunnel walls, bleeding a cold, ghostly light into the dark.

“Alfred, is that you?”

The voice rasped from the shadows behind him. Alfred spun around, his boots skidding on loose gravel.

A boy stood in the dim light, looking about his own age, though it was hard to tell under the grime. His face was streaked with soot, his hair a matted tangle of brown locks, and his clothes hung from his thin frame in ragged, filthy tatters. He was staring at Alfred with a desperate, wide-eyed intensity.  He was staring at Alfred intently.

“Yes,” Alfred breathed, his voice cracking. “My name’s Alfred. But… who are you?”

The boy stepped closer, the pale light catching his features. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Alfred stared, but recognition did not come. In fact, Alfred probably should have recognized the boy at this point.  But sometimes it can be hard to recognize even a familiar face when you are not expecting to see it.  And Alfred had not expected to see this particular face ever again.

“It’s me,” the boy said softly. “Jack.”

The name struck Alfred like a physical blow. “Jack!” he gasped, scrambling to his feet. “Jack, but how? Everyone back home… we thought you were dead!”

“Did they?” Jack’s voice held a strange, hollow lack of surprise.

“You wandered off into the woods and never came back,” Alfred said, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “We searched for days. We assumed the mountain beasts had gotten you.”

Jack stared at the floor, processing the words, before giving a slow, weary nod. “Yes. I suppose that makes sense. I’d probably think the same thing if I were them.”

“But you’re not dead,” Alfred said excitedly.  “You’re here.  And…”  He paused, looking past Jack into the yawning, labyrinthine dark of the corridor. “Where is here, anyway?  Where are we?”

“We are underground, in the goblin tunnels,” said Jack sadly.  “I see the goblins have captured you too.”

“I guess so,” said Alfred.  “It was too dark for me to see them.  But something dragged me off.  Somethings, I mean.”

“There were a lot of them, then?” Jack asked.

“Yes.  They had hands and feet just like a human, but they were small, like a little child.”

“Yes, those were the goblins,” Jack said.  

“So how did they catch you?” asked Alfred.

Jack let out a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping.

 “Well, as you know, I decided to take a walk by myself.  I was feeling a little bit sick of the group.  Lucas was being obnoxious, as usual, and Molly was talking a lot of nonsense, as usual, and I thought I’d just take a walk by myself to clear my head.  I knew that I shouldn’t go off by myself, but I told myself that it would only be for a little bit, and besides it was still the middle of the day, so I thought it was safe.” He rubbed a grime-streaked hand across his forehead. “But as I was walking, I saw a little goblin sitting on a tree.  I remember he was sitting there just looking at me.  There was only one of them, so I didn’t think too much of it.  I mean, the goblins are so small that I didn’t think it was frightening when I just saw one of them.  So I kept walking.  But that was my mistake.  I should have ran back the moment I saw him.  The thing about goblins is that there’s never just one of them.  If you see one goblin looking at you, it means that there are fifty more goblins that you can’t see, hiding behind the trees or under the rocks.  And sure enough, as I kept walking, I saw another goblin standing on the ground in front of me, and then a bit further down I saw two more, and by the time I realized I was surrounded, it was too late.  You see, the goblins fight by swarming.”

“Swarming?”

“Yes, you see, if there was just one goblin, you’d be able to fight it pretty easily.  I mean, you’d have to be a little bit careful.  They do have sharp pointy teeth, so they can do some damage if they bite you.  And they have little sharp swords that they carry, so you don’t want to let them stab you.  But generally speaking, assuming the goblin doesn’t sneak up on you from behind or something, if you have a human with a sword fighting against a goblin, the human has a very good chance.  But the problem is they never attack you one on one.  If there’s only one of them, they’ll just run away.  They only attack when there’s about fifty of them together.  And then at that point, you don’t stand a chance.  They just swarm you, and either stab you to death with their short swords, or, in our case, they drag you down into their mines.”

Alfred felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. “Is that what this is? A mine?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’ve been down here for two years. At least, I think it’s been two years. It’s hard to tell time without a sun.”

“And why have they captured us?  What do they want with us?”

“They want to make us dig, of course.”

“Dig for what?”

“For whatever we can find.  Gold, silver, diamonds, jewels.  There’s loads of gold in these mountains.  Did you know that?  I never knew that before.”

“I didn’t know that either,” Alfred replied.

A bitter, humorless smile touched Jack’s lips. “It’s funny when you think about it. All those trips the forest robbers make up here to raid wagons and steal scraps, and the whole time, a fortune is sitting right underneath their boots.”  The smile vanished as quickly as it came. “But someone has to hack it out of the rock. That’s what we’re for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think the goblins captured us?  It’s because they need children to work in  their mines.  We do the hard work of digging.”

“Who is we?”

“All of us.  All of the children.”

Alfred looked down the tunnel, half-expecting to see a crowd emerging from the gloom.

“They’re not standing just in this spot now,” Jack explained.  “But there are several more children in these caves.  Maybe about twenty of us altogether.”

“Twenty?  But where do they come from? There haven’t been twenty children who have gone missing.  You were the only one who disappeared.”

“Anna is here as well,” Jack said.  “Do you remember  Anna?  I had practically forgotten about her myself until I met her down here.”

“Anna,” Alfred said slowly, trying to remember.

“She disappeared when we were five years old.  At the time, people said the wolves must have gotten her.”

A sudden spark of recognition flashed in Alfred’s mind. “The wolves… yes. I remember the adults talking about it. She’s alive?”

“She’s here,” Jack nodded. “But the rest aren't from our village. They’re from the forest people down below.”

“What are the forest people doing up here in the mountains?”

“The tunnels go everywhere,” Jack explained, pointing deeper into the dark. “They run under the mountains, under the foothills, straight beneath the forest floor. The goblins can snatch a child from the woods down below just as easily as they took us from the peaks.”

Alfred fell silent, listening intently. The cave was suffocatingly quiet, save for the distant, rhythmic drip-drip of water.  “It’s pretty quiet here,” he said.  “And so far, just the two of us.  Where are the other children?  Where are all the goblins?  And why is it light inside these tunnels?”

“The light comes from the moonstones,” said Jack, answering the last question first.

“Moonstones?”

“Yes,” said Jack, pointing to one of the stones that was glowing.  “If you put these stones outside under the sky in the light of a full moon, they’ll absorb the moon’s light, and bleed it out for a full month down here.  Goblins can see perfectly in the dark, so they don’t need them.  But we do.  And the goblins know that it’s no good sending us into the mines to search for gold or diamonds if we can’t see what we’re looking for.  So they keep everything lit up with the moonstones.”

“I see.”

“As for the other children, they’re still eating their breakfast.”

“The goblins feed you?” 

“It’s not great food,” Jack admitted.  “It’s tasteless gruel, but it does give us energy to work in the mines.”

“And why aren’t you eating with them?” Alfred asked.

Jack didn't look away, but his expression hardened into something detached and numb.

“The goblins sent me,” Jack said simply. “They told me they left a new boy lying in the upper tunnel. They told me to go fetch you, and bring you down to work.”