Free Goblin Hero by Jim C. Hines Page A

stared at her. When he finally spoke, he sounded almost resigned. “There’s something very wrong with you, even for a goblin.”
    Veka didn’t answer. If she tried to explain, he’d only laugh at her. That, or he would go ahead and kill her.
    But deep down, she knew. These pixies were her nemesis. Nemeses? It didn’t matter. The magic she had seen proved they were the archenemy she must defeat to finish her journey along the Hero’s Path. If she could overthrow these pixies, it would be a triumph unmatched in goblin history. Nobody would even remember Jig and his stupid song. When she returned, she would be Veka the Great. Veka the Mighty. Veka the Bold. She would have so many adjectives, the other goblins would take all morning just to greet her!
    Better yet, Jig and the others might be in trouble. They had lost their ogre companion, after all. What a thrill it would be to rescue the great Jig Dragonslayer.
    “Come on,” she said, tugging Slash by the arm. He wrenched free, staring at her as if she had suggested raw carrion-worms for dinner. He didn’t understand. The longer they stayed here, the more time Jig would have to save himself, and that would ruin everything.
    She started to walk in the general direction of Straum’s cave. She wondered if the pixies would have spellbooks she could steal. She would have given anything for the kind of power she had just witnessed. Well, maybe not that spell in particular. The ability to make trees swallow your enemies wouldn’t be much use back in the stone tunnels and caves of the goblin lair. But if the pixies could do that, they certainly had other spells she could use.
    Crunching footsteps told her Slash had decided to follow. The scowl on his face made it plain he would have preferred to leave her broken body here with the dog, but given what they faced, it was smarter to stick together.
    That was how a sidekick was supposed to behave.
     
    Veka kept her ears twisted, tracking Slash’s footsteps to make sure he didn’t try to stab her in the back. Though he could just as easily throw his spear, if he really wanted her dead. But to do that, he would have to shift his weight, which she would also hear, thanks to the crunch of ice and snow. Hopefully that would give her enough warning to dive behind a tree.
    Her enthusiasm began to wane the longer they walked. She found herself constantly stumbling over snow-covered roots or bumping into branches which dumped snow down her neck. The sky had begun to darken, making progress even more difficult. The last branch had nearly cost her an eye. “This whole place is out to get me,” she muttered.
    By the time they reached the edge of the woods, Veka was hungry, cold, and soaked. Her only consolation was that Slash had been equally abused.
    “Straum’s lair is there, the edge of the cavern,” Slash said.
    “You think I don’t know that?” Veka tried to sound haughty and disdainful, but her stomach gurgled as she spoke, ruining the effect. She should have brought food, or at least grabbed a few bites of Walland.
    A wide clearing separated them from the edge of the cavern. In Straum’s time, the dragon had kept that stretch empty so nobody would be able to sneak into his lair without being seen. Over the past year, shrubs and saplings had begun to pop up, though none were tall enough to use as proper cover.
    Veka leaned on her staff as she studied the entrance to Straum’s lair. The horizontal crack was like a dark mouth in the cliff curving up before them. Vines hung over the entrance like unwashed hair. The ground closest to the cliff was overrun with dying wildflowers. Over the centuries, Straum had tried many things to relieve his boredom, including gardening. The sweet, rotten smell made her nose wrinkle.
    A knotted rope hung down the cliff, courtesy of some early traveler. Even from here Veka could see it was frayed and useless.
    She saw no sign of any guards. The pixies should be easy to spot. The one by Walland