Goblin Hero Read Free

lying. If he said Braf was Jig Dragonslayer, the ogre wouldn’t know any better. One look at the grin on Kralk’s face shattered that plan.
    “I’m Jig,” he said. His voice sounded like a child’s squeak compared to the ogre’s.
    “You’re the one who killed the dragon Straum?” The ogre picked up his club and made his way toward Jig, keeping his head and shoulders hunched.
    Jig glanced at Kralk, then nodded.
    “You put a spear through that monster’s eye?”
    He nodded again.
    “You? You’re the one they sing that song about, the one—”
    “Yes, that’s me!” Jig snapped. His momentary anger ebbed as quickly as it had begun, leaving his legs so weak he thought he was going to collapse. Brilliant , he thought. Shout at the ogre. Why not kick him in the groin next?
    The ogre knelt, peering down at Jig, then back at Kralk. “He’s like a little goblin doll!”
    Jig’s claws dug into his palms. Better a toy than a threat. “Braf said you wanted to talk to me.”
    “That’s right.” The ogre took another step, putting him almost within arm’s reach. Almost within Jig’s reach, at least. The ogre could have grabbed Jig by the head and bounced him off the nearest wall without stretching. His green scalp wrinkled into a frown. “We need . . .” His voice grew quiet, muffling the last word.
    “What was that?” Jig asked.
    The ogre’s face turned a deeper green, almost exactly the same shade as the mold that grew on the privy walls. “Help. We need help.”
    Jig stared, trying to put the pieces together. He understood the words, but his mind struggled with the idea that ogres would come to goblins for help. What next? The Necromancer returning from the dead to start a flower garden?
    “What kind of help?” Jig asked.
    “A few months ago something showed up in Straum’s cave and started hunting us. At first we thought it was those hobgoblin types, or maybe you goblins, so we came up and slaughtered a few of you.” He gave a sheepish half shrug. “Sorry about that.”
    Kralk stepped closer. “You killed far more hobgoblins than goblins. We considered it a favor.”
    “Right. So you won’t mind doing us a favor in return.” The ogre stared at Jig. “Whatever they are, they’ve got magic on their side. Many of us have already died. Others have been enslaved. They’re hunting down those who remain, the families who fled into the deeper tunnels.”
    Jig had met two wizards in his time. One had been a companion on his quest. The other was the dreaded Necromancer. Both had tried to kill him. To be fair, a number of nonwizards had also tried to kill him, but wizards tended to be much nastier about it.
    “We’ve heard of you,” the ogre said. “You’ve got magic of your own, right?”
    Jig knew where this was going, and his mouth was too dry to answer. He managed a weak nod.
    Kralk’s smile grew. Smudge responded to that smile with enough heat to sear the leather shoulder pad. Tiny threads of smoke rose from beneath his feet. Interesting that the goblin chief frightened him more than the ogre. Jig had always known Smudge was smart.
    “What do you say, Jig?” asked Kralk.
    Jig took a step back. There had to be a way out of this. He whirled and pointed at Veka. “What about her? She can cast a binding spell, and she wants to be a Hero.”
    The closest goblins started to laugh, either at Jig’s cowardice or at the idea of smelly, overweight Veka as a hero. As for Veka herself, she flashed a grin nearly as wicked as Kralk’s own. “Sorry, Jig. If you had taught me magic, I might be powerful enough to help. But I guess you’ll have to do this on your own.”
    “But—”
    “This is your path, Jig Dragonslayer, not mine.” Veka tapped her staff on the floor, rattling the beads and bones. “A Hero must make her own path. To quote the valiant Duke Hoffman, who transformed himself to rescue the mermaid Liriara, ‘I have chosen my way, and it is the way of the squid.’ ”
    The ogre