Goblin Girl: Gobbled, #2

By S.E. Burr

Maude Clare is the princess of Goblinton, a rich world of color and fruit. When her mother the queen vanishes, swept away to the Other Place, a drab world of peach walls and artificial light, Maude Clare is desperate to save her. With the help of Anna, a mysterious red haired woman, Maude Clare will face a wizard and a horde of goblins to protect her people and bring her mother home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.E. Burr
• Release date: Jun 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311709783

Book preview

1

At Thomas's wedding I stood quietly, waiting until that pompous idiot, Lord Jeffrey, saw me and gave up his seat on the highest tuffet with many bows and apologies. Sitting gingerly on the grass, I arranged my long gown carefully around me. It was my most regal and most revealing dress, the bottom long and flowing, the top pasted to my skin with honey to keep it from revealing more than I planned. Goblin maids had carefully curled my long, flowing, blond hair, and I wore my coronet of woven flowers and small berries dipped in gold.

I refused to feel over-dressed. The wedding was a formal occasion, and I was a princess, after all.

But still, the other guests were less finely arrayed. Some were actually clothed in jeans and T-shirts, the casual outfits people were usually wearing when they arrived in Goblinton. I felt a slight tinge of embarrassment, not wanting anyone to think I was trying too hard.

Thomas pointedly ignored the daggers I stared at him as he spoke with Reverend Fletcher.

The music started, and Danielle began her walk up the grassy path between the seated guests. As she approached the blossom-covered apple tree beneath which Thomas and the Reverend waited, I realized that I even outshone the bride.

How could I not? I was a head taller than Danielle, much more pretty, and more charming and intelligent, too. What on earth could Thomas be thinking? Still, I felt the burn of jealousy in my chest. The bride looked so happy, her cheeks rosy, a sweet smile on her lips.

Danielle had always been kind, and that made me feel almost bad about my presence here and about the small, fabric-wrapped gift I held in my hands.

Almost.

When the reverend asked if there were any who objected, I very nearly raised my hand, but I would not be so desperate and pathetic. I was the Goblin Princess, the heir to my mother's throne, and if Thomas couldn't see that I was more desirable than Danielle in basically every way, then I was better off without him. Maybe if I told myself that enough, I'd start believing it.

At the end of the ceremony, I felt my stomach tighten at the couple's kiss, chaste and constrained though it was. I'd kissed him with more passion the day we'd waded among the lilies, and that was our first kiss. My vision blurred ever so slightly and I blinked rapidly, banishing the tears before they could form.

I entered the line with the other guests to congratulate the couple and wish them every happiness.

The human attendees all ceded their places to me, but the goblins had no mind for such customs, and so I was forced to wait behind a muskrat goblin who indicated his blessings on the couple with hand gestures. Some of the goblins were capable of vocal human speech but many of those refused to speak to anyone but my mother.

As I approached the bride and groom, Thomas watched me warily.

I thought I saw an air of sadness in his face. Remembering the kiss again, I nearly lost my composure. You're the princess, I reminded myself. I squared my shoulders and stood up taller.

Maude Clare, Thomas said, as I stepped before him.

Congratulations, I said, the word coming harsh and angry from my lips. My throat felt tight. I worried I might cry, and that would be the ultimate humiliation.

Thank you, said Danielle, a sincere smile on her face.

I tore my eyes away from Danielle, away from the joyous smile that should have been mine, and thrust my fabric-wrapped present into Thomas's hands.

Thank you, he said, turning to hand it to a goblin who stood behind him, waiting to carry the gifts to the pile.

Open it now, I told him, my voice calm, my hurt and anger hidden, I hoped, behind a mask of indifference.

Thomas nodded mutely, his head bowed, and pulled the ribbon away, opening the cloth. Seeing what was inside, the broken gold chain and the leaves we'd gathered from among the lilies on that day, he looked at me with a pained expression. Maude Clare, he said again.

After taking a moment to enjoy his discomfort, I turned and flounced away with my head held high. I would forget him. He hadn't deserved my attention in the first place.

The murmurs from the crowd faded as I left the glen and made my way home through more grass and trees, my goblin attendant following closely behind me, the sun shining on my face, and insects buzzing merrily.

As I approached the castle, walking through the carefully tended hedges which surrounded it, a familiar, strongly-muscled, dark-haired man appeared suddenly before me.

An appearance, of itself, was not totally unexpected or unusual. New subjects arrived in the queendom, if not frequently, then certainly regularly, and they could appear anywhere. This man was not a new subject, but he also had a tendency to appear out of nowhere. What was far more unusual was that his usually tidy, white button-up shirt was speckled with reddish-brown stains and the moment he saw me he gave an enraged cry and tried to strangle me.

I was not hurt—could not be hurt. His fingers pressed into my flesh and began to sink slowly through it until his hands and my neck inhabited the same space.

My attendant, Margo, a furry goblin, who often walked on all fours and resembled a smallish dog except for her very human looking eyes, scratched at his leg and then bit him.

Crying out again, the man released me, and flailing and kicking, flung the little goblin away from him.

The creature growled and stalked back, but the man turned away from me and began attacking a tree, tearing away branches and snapping them over his knee. He threw leaves and twigs to the ground, all the while howling and yelling in frustration, swearing considerably more than anyone had dared do in my presence before. I had never seen anything like it. He was solid, and instead of languishing in the field like the other solids, he was attacking a tree.

The goblin stood beside me, growling deep in her throat as she watched the deranged man's assault.

Finally, the man seemed to grow tired of the task. Turning, he faced me, his eyes clear.

I could see that understanding and recognition were finally present in his gaze.

Maude Clare? he said.

Wizard, I answered. I recognized the stains on his shirt as blood. No one bled in Goblinton, but sometimes new arrivals appeared with it on them or on their clothes, a result of accidents in the other place.

The Wizard stared at me for a moment and then looked down at his hands, his hands which had just moments previously been wrapped around my neck. I apologize. I didn't mean to hurt you. He shook his head. Obviously I didn't. You can't be harmed.

I rubbed at my neck, trying to rub away the sensation of his fingers on my skin. Feeling that I deserved a more abject apology than that, I didn't answer him. He'd tried to choke me. It was not possible, of course, but he'd placed his hands upon my person in an angry manner. He better be planning a truly splendid apology gift—perhaps a new magic trick to display at my next birthday party. That would be lovely.

The Wizard stared at me. What the hell are you wearing?

My jaw fell open. The nerve!

He went on. Go home and change at once, young lady. Does your mother know you're wearing that?

Unbelievable! I looked down at my dress and at my ample cleavage. My mother does not dictate my apparel, Wizard, and I am a fully grown woman, a fully grown princess. Your princess. I am not a child to be bossed around by the likes of you.

The Wizard opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a voice which sounded even angrier than my own.

Wizard! hollered the Queen, stalking up to him.

She slapped him right across the face, exactly what I should have done when he placed his hands on me.

He looked startled, but his chin did not move even an inch. It was like he'd been struck with a scoop of nearly melted