Wings (8 page)

“I have to get out of here,” Tamisin told Heather.

“What?” Heather shouted over the din of the new arrivals.

When she saw that she wouldn’t be able to make herself heard without shouting, Tamisin pointed to the door and gestured for Heather to go first. Her friend nodded, and together they made their way across the room. Tamisin was about to step into the hallway when a little man with a walrus mustache and muzzle bumped into her.

“Pardon me,” he said. Looking up, he saw her face. “It’s her!” he squealed. “I found her!”

And then they were all around her, pushing and pulling with their hands and paws, separating her from Heather as they swept Tamisin toward the back door.

“What are you doing?” shouted Heather as she tried to fight her way to her friend. “Jeremy, help her!”

“I’m coming!” Jeremy called back, but he was on the far side of the kitchen, which was now so crowded that it was almost impossible to move.

The creatures were shoving her out the door when Tamisin began to scream, so they burst into a song in some indecipherable language to cover the sound of her voice. Lightning split the sky as they forced her into the yard. Tamisin twisted in their grip, screaming all the while even though thunder drowned out her cries.

When the next bolt of lightning sliced the night sky, some of the creatures cowered in fear, but enough held on to her that she was unable to break away. A girl with a pig’s snout and bouncing golden curls shrieked and ran when lightning struck again. For the first time Tamisin could see where they were taking her. Two tall trees stood like sentinels in the rear of the yard with a path leading directly toward them. In the lightning’s glare, the air shimmered between the trees like sunlight on water.

Someone behind her pushed too hard and Tamisin fell to her knees. When the creatures dragged her up, she kicked and struggled until a voice growled in her ear, and she felt the sharp prick of claws on her throat. Lightning flashed again, so close that it made the air smell acrid. A wind sprang up, carrying with it a drenching
rain. Then Jak was there, fighting the creatures until only one was left, holding her with sharp claws.

It occurred to Tamisin that if Jak was trying to help her, maybe he hadn’t invited the creatures after all. When she tried to call to him, the pressure on her throat was too great. She gasped at the pain, her eyes never leaving Jak’s face. This time when lightning struck, she could feel the electricity in the air. Then suddenly there was another creature, bigger than all the rest, lurching toward her with its massive arm raised. After that everything seemed to happen at once: the creature struck, the pressure on her throat was gone, Jak slammed into her so that they tumbled backward through a shimmering light, and lightning zigzagged through the sky.
I’ve been struck by lightning
, Tamisin thought just before the world went black.

The first time Jak stepped onto the island he thought they’d gone to the wrong one. Unlike some of the islands they’d passed, there were no beaches or sloping shorelines, and the footing was treacherous, especially for a six-year-old boy, even one who was half goblin. It wasn’t until his uncle, Targin, had helped him climb the jumbled rocks that Jak knew it was the island that his nasty cousin, Nihlo, had talked about every time he came home for a visit. There were the squat, stone buildings where the elders who taught the children lived. There were the trees so bent and twisted that their branches looked like writhing tentacles frozen as they reached for young goblins. There were the stone ridges that formed the maze where goblin children practiced lurking, hiding, and ambushing. And there were the jagged outcroppings that Nihlo swore were actually monsters that came alive at night.

When his uncle tried to leave Jak in front of one of the ugly buildings that made up the main part of the school,
the little boy clung to him so tightly that the cat goblin had to pry his nephew’s fingers from his hand. Then Targin turned to make his way back down to the water’s edge and the boat that awaited him, leaving Jak clutching his sack of belongings and blinking away the tears that only a goblin with some human ancestry could shed.

Jak knew that he wouldn’t be going home for a very long time. The island was far enough from any goblin holdings that unexpected explosions or spontaneous screaming wouldn’t disturb anyone’s sleep and isolated enough that water-fearing monsters like the snake women couldn’t eat the children. Drowned Goblin Lake was as big as a small sea, and Jak was staying on the only inhabited island.

Over the years since that day, Jak had explored the island whenever he had the chance, sometimes with friends, but often by himself. On the days that a strong wind scoured the surface, he explored the underground caves that riddled the island’s core. By the time he was fourteen he could find his way around the system of caves with his eyes shut, although even a halfling of the cat goblin clan needed only a small amount of light to see. Having decided that he wanted to map the ravines and caves, he became interested in maps in general. Learning how to read had been the next natural step, even though the other goblins made fun of him for learning something they considered useless.

When the weather was good, most classes, like Raising Battering Rams for Fun and Profit; Throwing Your Voice to Intimidate Your Enemy from a Distance;
and We Aim to Puncture—Spear Throwing, beginners through advanced, were taught out in the open. Even the more academic subjects such as Jak’s newest class, Transmogrification, were taught in the shadow of the outcroppings.

On the first day of Transmogrification lessons, Jak hurried to the clearing where the students were to meet with the elder. Most of the other goblins were already seated in front of the tree stump where the elder would stand, and Jak was glad to see that his friends were there as well.

Bella, a member of the bear clan, was a halfling like Jak, and they had become friends their first day on the island. Tobi, a goblin of the raccoon clan, had befriended them during a game of capture the skull when they included him and no one else would. Small and nervous, he preferred the company of the halflings over that of the more violent goblin children.

Both Bella and Tobi looked up as Jak picked his way between the other seated goblins. “How was your holiday?” Bella asked, patting the rock beside her with a blunt-fingered hand.

“Not too bad,” said Jak. He was taller than both of them, and although he had the slender build common to members of the cat goblin clan, he was already more muscular than his full-blooded relatives. “I cleaned the bone chute. Nihlo leaves me alone when I’m working so he doesn’t have to help me.”

Unlike Bella, whose cousins Bruno and Barth were intent on protecting her from the goblins who hated half
humans, Jak had learned at an early age that the best way to get along with his goblin cousin was to avoid him.

“I can’t believe yer family made ya clean that chute,” said Tobi, crinkling his little masked nose in disgust. “They shoulda paid a scavenger goblin like most families.”

Jak shrugged. “I don’t mind. It keeps …”

“Shh,” said Bella. “Here’s Elder Squinch. Don’t make him mad. I heard he pecks you if you do.”

Jak turned around when he heard a soft chirruping. He could see black feathers bobbing down the path that divided the clearing; the taller students hid the rest. Whatever the elder looked like, he had to be awfully short.

There was a thunk as if someone had dropped something heavy, the scrape of claws on stone, and Elder Squinch hopped onto the rock behind the tree stump. He was a member of the bird clan, which meant he had a face like a man, but a large yellow beak instead of a nose or mouth. “Good morning, goblins!” he crowed, then cocked his head to the side as if waiting for a response.

“Good morning, Elder Squinch!” replied a few tentative voices.

“What’s that?” squawked the goblin. “I couldn’t hear you!”

“Good morning, Elder Squinch!” called a few more voices.

“Much better!” he replied. “Welcome to the first day of Transmogrification, the class that will change your life! Now, who can tell me what transmogrification is?”

A weasel goblin raised his hand. “It’s changing one thing into another.”

“Close enough … What’s your name, boy?”

“Sneal,” the goblin told him.

Elder Squinch abruptly turned to two goblin girls sitting in the front row. Both members of the rabbit clan, they had long ears that peeked out of their hair and wiggled as they whispered to each other. The girls didn’t notice when the goblin hopped onto the stump and leaned down to peck them sharply on the tops of their heads.

“Ow!” the girls exclaimed.

“Listen, you two,” said the old goblin, “or you won’t know what’s going on.” His movements were quick and jerky when he hopped back onto his rock. “You there! Boy from the dog clan! We do not sniff our fellow students in class! And no lifting of legs either. That would get you an automatic detention in the Pit. Now where was I? Ah, yes … By the time this semester is over, I expect most of you to be adept at the art of transmogrification. However, today will be a different story. Now, to begin …”

Jak craned his neck to see over the students in front of him while the old goblin disappeared behind the stump. When he came back up, he was holding a lump of something dull and gray. “First, you must be in contact with the object at all times. If you break contact, you’ll have to start all over again. Now, while touching the object, think about what you want it to become. Picture the new object … Believe in it … You’ll feel pressure building
up in your mind. That’s the original shape asserting itself. When it reaches its peak—and you’ll recognize this because it makes the back of your head tingle—you want to push back—hard! Gather around for the demonstration, class.”

“What do ya think he’s gonna make?” Tobi asked, quivering with excitement as they squeezed between other students to a place where they could see.

“As long as it isn’t birdseed!” snickered Plite, a porcupine goblin. Jak, Tobi, and Bella found room to stand far from his quills on his other side.

“This,” said Elder Squinch, patting the gray lump, “is lead. I want to turn it into gold, so I close my eyes to cut down on outside distractions, and think about the gold I want it to become. That’s it, nice and shiny. Lovely color. It’s in my mind … I’m feeling the pressure … and now!”

“Ahh!” breathed all the students at the shiny lump of gold he held in his claws.

Elder Squinch looked pleased with their reaction. “Yes, indeed. Works every time once you know what you’re doing. Sneal, come up here beside me.” Sneal scurried up to the old goblin, his eyes bright with interest. “Here’s another piece of lead. Set your hand on it, yes, that’s it. Now close your eyes and do what I told you. Imagine the gold … Can you feel it resisting? Wait for the tingle … Now push as hard as you can!”

With a mighty shove, Sneal pushed the lump of lead so that it shot off the stump, ruffled the fur on the top of a dog goblin’s head, flew between Plite and Bella, and smacked into the boulder behind them.

“No, you idiot!” squawked Elder Squinch. “With your mind, not your hand! You didn’t listen! Now, who else wants to try? You, raccoon clan, let’s see what you can do.”

Tobi gave Jak a worried glance as he went to take Sneal’s place. His wrinkled forehead betrayed his intense concentration as he followed the elder’s directions. When the lead actually did turn into a pallid lump of some unidentifiable kind of metal that was definitely not lead, he beamed as if he’d performed the most wonderful feat in the world.

“Not bad, but you need to focus more on what you want. You, porcupine clan, it’s your turn …”

As Tobi returned to where he’d been standing between Jak and Bella, his excitement was obvious. “Did ya see what I just did?” he whispered. “ ’Tweren’t perfect, but I ne’er thought I could do that much!”

“Good job, Tobi!” said Bella. “I hope I can do as well.”

The old goblin chirped and said, “That’s better, Plite. You’re getting closer. Any questions before the next goblin tries?”

“What if I want to turn the gold back into lead?” asked one of the rabbit goblins.

“That’s a very good question. Sometimes lead is exactly what you need. If you ever want to turn anything back, just do the same thing in reverse.”

“Can you turn it into anything else?” asked Plite.

“As long as you are working with natural objects you can turn anything into just about anything, as long as it is also natural. For instance, you can turn flax into gold, or a carrot into a turnip or—”

“Can I turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse?” Sneal asked. “My mother asked me to try,” he said when his friends laughed.

“No, you can’t. A silk purse is a manufactured object, like my sack here.” Elder Squinch held up a woven grass bag. He set it on the stump with a thunk and a lump of lead rolled out. “You see the cut ends? This grass didn’t grow into the shape of a bag; someone manufactured it. The process of manufacturing takes it out of the magical loop. Goblins can change a natural object into a natural object, but not a manufactured one. You, boy with the floppy ears, it’s your turn.”