“But this King’s first wife has died without leaving a son,” he told her.
Kate eyed the grotesque goblin uneasily. What should one say to a monster who has lost his spouse? Her upbringing had not prepared her for moments like this.
“Shall I tell you what your mirror sees?” Marak went on. Kate frowned and looked away, expecting more teasing. “I see a young human woman who is astonishingly beautiful,” he said. Surprised, Kate eyed him warily. “And who has demonstrated a courage, intelligence, and resourcefulness that I did not at all expect. In short, I see an ideal King’s Wife.”
It took Kate a few seconds to comprehend, and then her blood froze in her veins. She couldn’t move or speak, though she was vaguely aware that the ugly creature was watching her with concern. The room began to grow dim around her.
“Kate,” said that commanding voice, “you are having a horrible nightmare.” She heard him over the roaring in her ears. It was the only thing he had said that made sense. “Lie down now.” Kate put her head down on a pillow. A blanket came over her. She felt its warm touch against her cheek.
“Sleep well, with no more nightmares,” concluded the voice. “When you wake up, you will be refreshed. But you will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”
The candle snuffed out, and the mirror went blank, but Kate didn’t notice. She was already sleeping soundly and peacefully, carrying out the goblin King’s orders to the letter.
Chapter 4
“Wake up! Are you going to sleep all day?”
Kate opened her eyes and blinked drowsily. Aunt Prim pushed back the curtains and unlatched the window as Emily sat down next to Kate. A fresh, cool breeze flowed into the room. Outside, Kate could see green leaves glowing in the bright morning sun.
“How are you, dear?” asked Prim cautiously, coming over. “Emily said she heard you crying out and talking in your sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. Are you feeling any better?”
“I feel wonderful.” Kate smiled up at her. “I slept so well that I’m completely refreshed.” She frowned. “But then, I had to, didn’t I?” she added bitterly. Emily and Aunt Prim exchanged puzzled glances.
“Well, dear,” Prim said anxiously, “we’re going down to the Hall for the day, but I think perhaps you should stay home and rest.”
Kate climbed out of bed. “Oh, no,” she declared. “I don’t want to miss a lovely morning like this. Mrs. Bigelow is bound to have a wonderful meal planned for us at the Hall. I’ll be ready in just a few minutes,” she promised, and shooed the two of them out the door.
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.”