Of Goblins and Gold - Emma Hamm Page 0,1

from the mist and walking back into their hut like they hadn’t disappeared for years. In some small part, that was why Freya continued to live where they did. But she was the more realistic sister.

She didn’t stay in that hut because she thought they would return. Freya stayed for the memories that lingered in the walls, like ghosts who haunted her waking dreams.

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind Esther’s ear. “They’re not coming back, Esther.”

“All we know is that they went into the forest and they never returned. They could still be out there, Freya. Why do you insist on stopping our search?” Tears filled Esther’s eyes, like droplets of pearls clinging to her lashes.

Freya couldn’t have this argument again. She took a deep breath, held it, and tried to think of the right words. What would calm her sister down?

A horse and buggy meandered past them. The sweet grass scent of the horse’s exhale filled her lungs. Clamoring noises of hammers striking metal, people talking on their morning routine, and the clucks of chickens in the farm beyond all took up space in her head.

She couldn’t think with all this noise and sudden sound. Freya’s focus had always been off, but with all these distractions, it was even more difficult to provide Esther with the appropriate answer.

“They wouldn’t want us to keep looking for them,” she settled on. “It’s been two years, Esther. They aren’t coming back.”

What else was she supposed to say? They’d had this argument every week for months now.

Esther’s face turned white as snow. She gave one firm nod, then darted through the gate into town. Freya sighed and planted her hands on her hips.

It wasn’t like Esther could get very far. Woolwich wasn’t that big of a town, and everyone knew everyone. She could ask a single villager where her sister had gotten off to, and they would know exactly where to send her. After all, the witch sisters were hard to miss.

She’d let Esther have some time to herself. The last thing she needed was for Esther to take off into the forest trying to find their parents. Freya had no one left. And a single witch in a hut was easier to burn.

Freya wrapped the scarf around her waist now, creating a makeshift basket for them to place food in. She already knew what she wanted to get. Squash was easy to come by this year, and she could make that go farther. Eggs would be best, since they couldn’t keep a chicken to save their life.

Esther said the goblins kept stealing their fowl. Freya thought it was the fox that lived within the thicket beside their home.

“Hello, girlie.” The unknown voice was startling for two reasons. First, because she’d never heard it before. Freya knew everyone in Woolwich. And second, because it rumbled like water trapped under ice.

Freya curled her fingers in the scarf and looked up at the horse and buggy that had stopped beside her. The horse was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. A great black charger, perhaps something a warrior might have ridden into battle. Its hooves were painted silver and were so bright, the sun gleamed off their sharpened ends.

The buggy was a patchwork of colorful fabric. She could hardly guess what it was made of, although the ancient wooden wheels gleamed like polished mahogany.

And of course, as she had expected, she could see the bells woven along the edge. Each was perfectly made, reflecting her own pale, startled face back at her a hundred times over.

The wind picked up and all the bells began to chime.

She told herself not to respond. The goblin man couldn’t steal her away if she said nothing. That was the rule.

So instead, she turned her face slowly to the side. Forcing her eyes to remain on the town that was only a few steps away. The town he couldn’t enter, no matter how hard he tried.

But out of the corner of her eye, she could see him. The bird-like beak where his nose should be. The feathers that winged back from his eyes and accentuated the sharp angles of his cheekbones. He wore a cloak over his head, like that would somehow hide the differences. And she knew, if she looked at him or acknowledged him in any way, he would try to sell her something.

The goblin man reached out a hand into her line of sight. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy anything,