“Let me go!” she cried, flailing wildly in his grasp. “I’ll – I’ll stab you!”
He snorted, lips quirking up in amusement. “No, you won’t. You can’t even hold that thing properly, like your little lover over there was trying to tell you.” Then, as if to prove his point, he shoved his shoulder up into her, jostling the blade right out of her blood-slick fingers.
It clattered to the floor, too far away from Ren to reach, wounded as they were. At this point, even dragging themself a mere inch seemed an impossible task, akin to scaling the steepest of mountain peaks. Plus, there was Blossom, still applying pressure to their side, her face drawn and pale. No doubt she’d rush to stop them just as swiftly as before.
Pansy’s mother, however, could still do what Ren could not. She scooped up the dagger with shaking hands and said, in an equally unsteady voice, “Let my daughter go.”
Agvaldir sighed. “Come now, Mrs. Underburrow. Be reasonable. You’ll just hurt yourself like that. Besides, think of all the good that will come from a little sacrifice!”
“Good for you, perhaps!” she snapped, her pale face turning splotchy with steadily mounting rage. “But you’re suggesting bleeding my daughter dry!”
He scoffed. “I’m not going to—”
Pansy’s mother whirled around before he could even finish. “I’ve always been a firm believer that when someone shows you who they really are, you should believe them,” she said, now addressing the other halflings, her friends, her neighbors. “And Agvaldir Starsmith is not a friend to us halflings. We all saw how quick he was to raise a hand against Pansy earlier, and now he wants to sacrifice her for his own gain! Oh, yes, he tells us it’sfor our benefit too, and why wouldn’t he? We have swallowed that same lie time and time again, always with a smile, placing the blame that should have been his on the halflings he swept away with his tales of ‘adventure’ and ‘protecting what matters most’. But the truth is, this is all for him. We’re all just pieces on a chess board, there to be manipulated at his command. And not even death can spare us from his bottomless hunger, because if thisisWolf Banefoot’s grave, then what is this but another halfling – part goblin or not – being shoved into his waiting maw?”
“Mrs. Underburrow, this a gross mischaracterization. All my life, I’ve wanted nothing but the best for Haverow and its people. You’re all likefamilyto me.”
“Then you, sir, have a funny way of showing it!” she snapped, lips quivering as they flattened into a bloodless line. Behind them broiled a veritable torrent of emotion, scouring her voice into the thinnest of whispers. “I learned to hate my mother because of you. She came back changed, and none of us knew how to fix her. Of course, we knew whatnotto do – a list that only seemed to grow every day. No bright lights. No sudden sounds. And gods forbid you burn something even a little on the stove! It was like walking on eggshells around her. Watch what you do. Watch what you say.If she has an episode, it’s all your fault!She let out a breath, her eyes wet and gleaming, even from a distance. “When she finally left us, it – it was a relief.”
“Mum…” Pansy murmured, her eyes shining too.
Sniffling, her mother dabbed at the little bit of moisture that had gotten loose. “I’m all right,” she said to Pansy’s father, who’d wound an arm around her waist, ready to pull her close. “My point is”– her expression hardened – “we’ve given this man far too much to let him take any more. And if being a Haverowhalfling means continuing to tolerate this man’s destruction of our community, then I formally renounce my membership. It’s not worth it.”
“Tulip’s right,” said Pansy’s father. “I know what my values are, and the time has come for everyone gathered here to think long and hard about theirs. Right now, we’re at a crossroads, one I believe has been a long time coming. We need to decide on our community’s future, and I hope that most of you, like me, have realized that the only future worth fighting for is one that keeps all of us safe. This man”– he leveled an accusatory finger at Agvaldir – “would do everything in his power to see that future dismantled.”
Although the world had long since turned hazy, colors streaking together into a barely decipherable blur, the low whine building inside Ren’s skull hadn’t quite reached the point where it overwhelmed all else. A clamor rose from the surrounding crowd, swelling with each new voice that joined it. The tide was turning, and Agvaldir knew it.
“Councilor,” he said, his voice vibrating with barely controlled fury as it sliced through the ever-building din, “I understand that the majority of people here likely weren’t alive when the Blight tore through Haverow, but you remember, don’t you? How so many people got sick? How all of them would have surely died without my intervention? Perhaps you could enlighten everyone else. Share your experience.”
“I… I suppose…” Mrs. Millwood mumbled, her gaze flitting nervously between Agvaldir and the other halflings. She wet her lips, shuffling a few paces away from the wizard. “Though perhaps it would be best if we all return to town for now. Have a proper, civilized discussion.”
“No!” Pansy snapped, her anger not dampened in the least bythe precariousness of her position, still slung over the shoulder of one of Agvaldir’s henchmen. “Agvaldir needs to leave and never come back! Also”– she thumped one tightly balled fist in between her captor’s shoulder blades – “put medown! I need to—Ren!”
Undaunted by Pansy’s desperate scrabbling, the man looked towards his employer and said, “Hey, boss, maybe we should do as they say. Cutting down a goblin is all fine and dandy, but a bunch of halflings? I don’t know. Feels a little wrong, doesn’t it? Like kicking a baby.”
Pansy’s eyes flashed. “Baby?I’ll show youbaby.” With uncharacteristic viciousness, she grabbed two fistfuls of the man’s blond hair, artfully tousled in that effortless sort of way, and yanked as hard as she could.
The man let out a high-pitched yelp along with some especially inventive swears strung together with spittle and red-faced fury. Deciding that Pansy was more trouble than she was worth, he threw her to the ground. “Forget this,” he said, clutching at what Ren hoped was a brand-new bald spot. “I’m an adventurer, not a gods-damned babysitter. I’m leaving.”
“You should listen to your companion and take your leave as well,” said Pansy’s mother to Agvaldir, her eyes blazing like twin flames as she rushed to her daughter’s side once more. “If you don’t, we’ll make sure you become as reviled among halflings as the dark lords you’ve pledged yourself to fight against.”
“And us goblins won’t like you very much either,” said a blessedly familiar voice. “I guarantee that.”
Whether it was the mention of goblins or the sight of them, Agvaldir’s men were quick to respond in the only way they knew how. Steel scraped against steel as they brandished their weapons, ready to put them to good use the second Agvaldirgave the order.
“Thorn,” Ren managed to rasp out before Blossom shushed them, telling them to conserve their strength. In retrospect, they probably should have. The chances of their cousin hearing them over the startled shouts of several dozen halflings were slim at best. Admittedly, the sudden appearance of an equally large group of goblins – all armed, no doubt, given the contents of the message Ren had sent via raven – was bound to go over somewhat poorly when the halflings were already moderately terrified.
Thankfully, Pansy was quick to pre-empt any less-than-ideal knee-jerk response. “Thorn!” she exclaimed, her relief palpable as she staggered to her feet. “How did you—”
“Ren sent a message via raven saying you needed help. Thankfully, we were already on our way for the party, so—”
Pansy blinked. “I’m sorry. Thewhat?”
Thorn nodded sagely. “Ah, yeah. I figured you might not have actually heard me last night. Poor timing on my part really, trying to talk to you when you were otherwise occupied. But goblin tradition dictates that all engagements be celebrated at the earliest opportunity – in other words, this morning. Normally, we’d have brought gifts, but once we got Ren’s message, we figured we’d better swap them out for something more appropriate in the circumstances.” He grinned as he hefted a large wooden club – a repurposed tree branch, most likely – over one shoulder to illustrate.
Agvaldir took what seemed to be an instinctive step back, his expression flattening into a stone-like mask. He said, “I could incinerate you with just a flick of my wrist.”
“Maybe,” Thorn said with an easy, unaffected shrug. “But by my count, there are –oh, several dozen of us, and only fourof you. Also, I don’t think your buddies will much like it if you start slinging fireballs in a cramped space like this. Chances are you’ll blast them too. There’s a reason dwarves don’t use spellpowder inpopulatedtunnels – or, at least, not tunnels populated by them. I’m sure your friend over there will tell you as much.”
