“To-may-toe, to-mah-to,” Mason whispered. “Let’s agree to argue about this later, provided the goblins don't kill us first?”
“Deal.”
I hadn’t noticed before, but there was a troll sitting in a gilded chair next to the fire. He was gruesome in a serious way—rotting skin, hard, devious red eyes, and cruel, thin lips.
A gremlin with thick brown fur shuffled into the room holding a silver platter. His green ping-pong ball eyes bulged as he offered the troll creamy earthworm hors d’oeuvres and brittle banana slug snacks.
Mason shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Those slugs are staring at me, and it’s giving me the creeps,” he said. “Come on.”
We scrambled through the grass, away from the window, and over toward a tight-packed group of goblins …show more content…
“And the sea monster? You have no idea what happened to him? Do you?” one of them said.
No response.
“Lester?”
A goblin stepped out of the shadows dressed in a wide-brimmed baby bonnet, a pink bow tie, saggy diaper, and a cut-off blue tee that read: Little Lester. “Leviathan?” he mumbled around a pacifier. “Hobart told me about the slaughter. Some are demanding an explanation.”
“An explanation? He’s dead. That Captain What’s-His-Name killed him,” the goblin snarled. “But It backfired on the old maggot . Now he’s on Thorn’s hit list.”
Lester mumbled something about hanging him up by his toes and changed the subject. “What about those wolves, huh?”
The goblin’s eyes dilated. His nostrils flared. He pulled Little Lester’s pacifier out of his mouth, and for a second I thought he was going to stab him with it, but he just scraped the mud off the sole of his sneaker. “Those filthy animals refuse to take orders. They all need to die.”
“Where is that gremlin?” one of them said. “I’m hungry.”
“Did you try the spiders?” Lester snarled and ran a greenish-yellow hand over his bumpy forehead. “They’re …show more content…
Then I remembered where I was and bit down hard on my lower lip, but it was too late.
"What was that?" Lester asked. He sniffed the air, probably trying to catch my scent and growled. “Whoever made that noise is alive. Maybe it’s an imp.” He clapped excitedly. “We could have creamy imp ice cream with sprinkles for dessert. Get ’em, boys.”
“I think . . .” Mason eyes were dark cutouts, taped to his face, “we’re dead.”
The goblins jumped down into the grass. “The last one to nibble on its bones is a rotten egg.”
We sprinted along a moonlit path, crashing through red ferns and leaping over a plate-sized toad. I didn’t bother to check if they were still behind us. I didn’t need to. I could smell the nasty monsters.
When we reached the edge of the woods, I stumbled to a stop. Before me, a field speckled with furless hounds spread into the distance.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. My mind was racing. Okay, okay, think.
I turned back. Thwack. A bloodstained ax hit the nearest spruce with such force that needles rained down on my head.
“Now what?” Mason