The bridge crossing the wide river was made of stone. Old stone. The type of bridge one might have seen in Europe. It was three hundred years old if it was a day. It was covered in moss, much of the mortar had fallen away, and yet it looked as though it could withstand a hurricane while a parade of elephants passed over it.

It was assuredly the very bridge they’d crossed over before escaping from the soldiers. Somewhere beyond that bridge was the giant tree with a portal to Earth embedded in it.

At least, Faye hoped there was. For all she knew the portal no longer existed. It was a one-and-done. A smash-and-grab.

But the sheer number of soldiers she’d seen after crossing through seemed to belie that idea. Those numbers suggested an invasion force.

On her side of the bridge, the road met a small clearing that had signs of being used as a camp for travelers. A game trail led through it and across the road leading to the south.

There sat Emma, dressed in a collection of hastily-sewn rags supplied by the goblins, and she was barefoot. She sat on a rock, looking bored.

Under the bridge were Shrek and Leonardo, while Shego and Plankton remained back behind the treeline along with Faye, and some of the newer goblins waited on the other side of the road.

The others remained back at camp, keeping Owen occupied.

She didn’t like lying to him, but Owen was playing it too careful, even for Faye’s liking. She admitted she didn’t want to do what she was doing– but after much thought and discussion with Emma, they both decided it was the right thing to do.

It was risky. It was probably stupid, but they were ultimately out of options. They had to do something. Simply surviving in the woods wouldn’t get them any closer to home, hoping they could find information through a chance encounter with a local was a long-shot, and running off into the unknown would only get them killed.

Emma was, of course, the bait. For all of Owen’s points, she at least understood the risk of being Asian in that world. Racism existed on Earth, after all. In a medieval culture, she might end up killed on sight. Faye’s distinctly exotic features wouldn’t work, and Emma… Emma shouldn’t be left to do it alone. For as hardy as the girl was, they’d already lost her father to that world. She didn’t want to be held responsible for a second Bishop being killed.

Which alone should have been enough to turn Faye off of the entire idea– but she understood they weren’t left with many options, so despite Faye’s reluctance, she agreed to the plan, and purposely left Owen out of it.

If all went well, they’d benefit. If it didn’t– well, at least neither of them would have to hear it from Owen. Perhaps she was overconfident after having killed the Hob. Perhaps it was the new shoes the goblins had made for her since her feet had healed. But she’d been sure the plan was solid enough to work.

The plan was simple. The plan was insane, of course, but they were out of options. Emma would wait in the clearing and attract the attention of anyone passing by. If there were too many of them, she would run up the game trail. But if there were only one or two, she would draw them close, and give the signal to the rest of them to come in if it was something she couldn’t handle herself.

After watching the roads the past few days, they noticed a pattern emerging. First thing they noticed was that the little roadside camp was only ever used by those coming from the other side of the bridge, and only up to an hour or so before nightfall. It was never used by anyone coming from the city to the west.

Second, that the first travelers of the day always came from the city, and always about ninety minutes after sunrise, followed by travelers from the other side of the bridge at about two hours after sunrise. They always crossed by them in numbers in the morning, but after a few hours it was more random, and they didn’t have the same numbers.

And so they let the groups pass earlier without accosting them, or Emma making herself known. They needed a lone traveler. Preferably a merchant.

And then they would rob him. Subtly, and without bloodshed if they could. More violently if they had to.

The charge on the taser had long since run out, but thankfully their skills at making primitive weapons had improved vastly. Faye stretched the boar-gut bowstring attached to her bow. It was gross to think about, but she also had leather jackets at home. Besides, she had to admit it had a satisfying twang.

Everyone was armed and protected as best they could be. The last thing they wanted was to lose another goblin. Since losing Grendel, they’d had a few more goblins join the community. It seemed as though word were spreading among the goblins in the forest about New Babylon.

Each treated Faye with the same reverence as the others. Faye felt the whole thing to be a surreal experience. A few weeks ago a beat reporter. Now, the Goblin Queen. All because she’d killed the Hob.

But as long as the goblins helped her, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They all seemed eager for her approval, as well as the approval of Emma and Owen. Even as they bickered amongst themselves they never bickered with the humans.

She shuddered to think what would happen if another Hob came along. Would it challenge her for leadership? The one she’d killed could have easily overpowered her if they hadn’t gotten the drop on it.

Her reverie was broken by Shego as she placed a hand on Faye’s knee. She silently pointed down the road. Faye got low to the ground and peeked over the bushes– it was difficult to make out, but a black carriage led by a single horse was coming down the road.

Plankton threw a few pebbles toward the clearing where Emma waited, signalling her that a carriage was approaching.

As the carriage drew nearer, she took note of its shape. It was long, and had an enclosed coach, made of a dark-colored wood. One man had the reins of the horse. There might have been up to two men inside. But from what she could tell thus far, the man was not armed– nor did he seem particularly alert.

It matched what they were looking for. She gave a hand signal to Emma, and received a nod. Emma then fell to the ground in clear sight of the road, and lay still.

Faye tensed as the coach drew even closer, and watched as the man atop of it took note of Emma’s prone form. He yelled something out, and Emma could hear a response coming from inside the coach. At least two. No other voices yet, however.

As it approached the clearing, the coach slowed to a stop, and a man emerged from inside, closing the door behind him.

He called toward Emma, but Emma remained still.

After a moment, the man from inside the coach walked up to the driver, and they exchanged words for a few moments. The driver climbed down, and the two of them approached her.

Faye then tapped Shego on the shoulder, and on cue, Shego traveled silently through the foliage down to the road. Faye prepared an arrow and kept a close eye on Emma.

The two men kneeled down and poked at Emma’s prone form, rolling her onto her back while Shego made her way down to the coach and hopped silently onto the back of it. Faye watched as she slipped into a window, while she spotted the other two goblins on the other side of the road moving into position.

The two men appeared to argue with one another over what they should do, each pointing a different direction on the road.

With a grunt of exasperation, the driver threw his hands in the air and stepped to the other side of Emma, while the second man stood back and started moving toward the coach. The driver picked her up in his arms. She was surprised Emma hadn’t reacted yet.

The other man walked to the side of his coach, then looked back at his driver, yelling something as he opened the door.

That’s when Shego jumped out with full force, grabbing hold of the man’s head and knocking him over.

Before the driver could even react, Emma threw her elbow into his face, causing him to drop her as he stumbled backward, holding his nose.

Emma recovered quickly, rolling to her feet and yelling, which spurred the other goblins into action. They quickly surrounded the two men, holding knives to them while each scrambled in confusion and fear.

Faye and Plankton then descended down to the road. “Get them off the road,” she ordered the goblins. “Emma, the coach!”

Emma nodded and climbed into the driver’s seat of the coach, taking the reins of the horse and directing it down the game trail to the north.

Faye turned to the men. The driver was stunned into silence, but the man from inside the coach was yelling a storm, his face nearly purple with rage, even with a knife to his throat. Faye nocked an arrow and walked directly up to him, pointing it at his head.

The man looked up at her, his eyes wide, then seemed to get the hint. He shut his mouth.

“I know you can’t understand me,” she said. “But you understand this, don’t you?”

The man only looked up at her in confusion.

The man had a scabbard attached to his belt with what looked to be a long knife inside it. She took her own knife out and cut the scabbard loose, and looked over to see Shrek and Leonardo doing the same to the driver.

“Under the bridge,” she said. “Let’s go.” She motioned for the man to stand, then pointed to the side of the bridge.

The man began to stammer, his hands up in defense. He pressed them together and looked to be pleading.

She kicked at him. “I said let’s go,” she repeated.

The two men complied, and followed her to the side and under the bridge. All the while they were eyeing her and the goblins.

She pulled out two lengths of rope and started to tie the men’s hands together. The driver sputtered emotionally at her, panicking.

“Oh relax,” she said. “I don’t want to kill you,” she said as the goblins bound them together under the bridge. Once they had finished, she tested the strength of the bindings herself. Once she was satisfied, she breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her cloak back, exposing her face. She pulled out her phone and started to record them.

Upon seeing her, the two men did not react as harshly as she expected. It wasn’t the look of men who’d never seen anyone who looked like her, at least. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a good sign. The phone seemed to confuse them, but they didn’t pay it much heed.

She kneeled next to them. “Okay. So which one of you knows where the tree is?”

The two men only looked to each other for a moment, then back to her.

“Language barrier,” she said. “Right.” She started tracing the shape of a tree in the dirt in front of them with her spare hand, then drew a swirl in its trunk.

“This,” she said. “The tree. Where is the tree?”

The man she assumed to be a merchant stammered something in another language, then looked up at her with first consternation, but then a look of realization glowed in his eyes, and it turned to fear.

“Yeah, you get it, don’t you buddy?” she asked. “We just want to know where the tree is.” She pointed again to the drawing. “This. Where is it?”

The man began to stammer, then shook his head. “Ar’Duna,” he said. “Ar’Duna. Mercer Keeli es.”

“Ar’Duna? Mercer Keeli es?” she repeated back to them.

“Ah! Ah! Mercer Keeli es! Asheen Ar’Duna! Ah!”

“Nili haidan boshan ta Taydir ess!” the driver spat. “Kyair!”

“Hadan bosantchus! Yuva Giturn ess!” the merchant responded.

The driver’s eyes then widened. “Giturn che?”

“Sure, Giturn che. Whatever,” Faye snapped back. “Where is this place, Mercer Keeli es? Where?”

“Ar’Duna,” the driver replied. “Chiro den Frowen.”

“Faye!” Emma called from near the bridge. “We’ve got to go.”

Faye nodded, then kneeled in front of both of them and met their fear-filled gaze. “Mercer keeli es,” she repeated. “Ar’Duna. Chiro den Frowen. I wish I knew what the hell that meant, but it’s more than I had.” She turned off the phone and slipped it into a pocket, then pressed her finger to her lips. “You get to live, boys,” she continued. “But if I were you, I’d keep this quiet. You understand quiet?”

The men looked quickly to each other, then looked to her finger. Both men suddenly started to nod in unison.

She nodded to Shrek, who then bashed both of their heads together, knocking them out. Faye winced at the sound. Head trauma wasn’t really her first choice, but she didn’t need them running loose or calling for help until they were gone. She didn’t know how long they’d be out for, but she wasn’t interested in hanging around to find out. She ran up the game trail along with the goblins, who were cheering for a job well done.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a coach and a horse now,” Faye said to Emma.

“We should put some distance between us before we start looting. We’re only going to be able to carry so much, but there’s a lot of stuff in there,” Emma said with a grin. “We should take what we can and dump the coach in the river.”

Faye nodded, then gestured for the goblins to follow. They were excited, beaming, even, at the prospect of getting first stab at whatever was in that coach.

They made their way up the game trail where Emma had stashed the horse and carriage out of sight of the road. The game trail ran alongside the river for a few kilometers of rocky ground. The two men were still bound up beneath the bridge, but they weren’t gagged. Faye knew she was taking a huge risk by letting them go, but she was no murderer. Even against people who deserved it.

A thief, on the other hand. Well, better to be a living thief than a dead reporter.

They made their way north along the river for a ways before the trail started getting too uneven to continue with the coach. Faye opened the coach doors while Emma started to tend to the horse. They’d take the horse, of course. They’d have to feed it, but a horse would be useful in a myriad of ways. Including food, if it came to that. She’d have balked at the idea a few weeks ago, but now that she was used to eating fresh game, it didn’t bother her so much. Of course, they’d also have to explain to Owen how they came across the horse and other goods, but she’d cross that bridge when it was time.

She stepped into the interior of the coach followed by some of the goblins. It was clearly built for travelling in comfort, as made apparent by the red sofa attached to the back wall and the desk attached to it. She was surprised to see a number of books sitting on top of it.

They were bound between two slats of wood, and the paper was thick, loosely-bound with small leather straps, and uneven. She opened one.

A series of symbols ran down the length of the page, arranged into four columns. Lists? A ledger, perhaps? She couldn’t make sense of what anything said, but she had expected that. It would have been too good to be true for them to be written in the western alphabet.

The other books seemed to be more of the same, but she made sure to take one in the interest of attempting to understand their writing. In the corner of the room were a series of bags the goblins had already started going through. Most contained clothing. A small burlap sack on a shelf contained some sort of plant matter that smelled strongly of ammonia.

A couple of crates lay along the sides of the coach, and Faye opened the first one. There were a series of metal tools whose uses Faye couldn’t rightly identify. They were made of twisted, wrought iron. But oh! Hammers! Chisels! Nails! Those would be useful. She started to gather them up into a pile in the middle of the floor.

The second crate was– hides. Tanned hides, to be precise. Those would be worth their weight in gold.

Faye paused at that thought.

The coach had obviously belonged to a merchant of some fashion. The book, the goods. He didn’t have much, but there was something missing.

Currency. At least, whatever passed for currency in that world. She started to rummage through the drawers on the desk, finding bottles of ink, spare paper and some leather straps. The man obviously bound his own books with the wooden slats piled up next to the desk.

But no money. She looked around again, then noticed a hole on the wall behind the sofa. She went over to it and ran her hand along it. She pulled out the phone and turned on the flashlight, trying to get a better look.

Inside the hole was another, smaller round hole. She stepped back, and took note of the ornate design of the wall. It was shaped in such a fashion that it could conceal a cupboard.

She laughed to herself. A safe. It was a safe. She went over to her tool pile and picked up a hammer and chisel, then started to bang on the side, pulling up the wood.

Surely enough, it began to give. She ran her finger along the underside, looking for hinges and resistance points. When she found them, she chiseled it open.

Eventually she got it open. Inside was a small chest, no bigger than a loaf of bread. She picked it up. It wasn’t overtly heavy, but the contents shook around making a noise she recognized immediately.

Coins. There were coins in it. She tried to pry the box open, but it had no give. She’d probably have to break it. No matter, she had time to do that later.

“Faye! Faye!” Leonardo called from behind her. Faye looked over to see the small goblin pointing at the base of the sofa. A small piece of metal hung just under the fabric. Faye took a closer look with the flashlight.

It was a lock not unlike the one in the wall, round in shape, but… this was a padlock. It was holding a hidden latch closed.

Faye wasted no time in putting the chisel to the latch. She had to be a little smug about it. The lock was obviously heavy-duty, at least by that world’s standards. She had to admit she wouldn’t be able to break it with the tools she had.

But the latch was defeated in seconds. The lock fell to the floor with a clutter, and she opened the top of the sofa.

And then let out a short, but shrill scream, letting the top shut as she fell back on her rear and scrambled back. The goblins were all suddenly at attention, their knives drawn, looking for the danger as a pungent odor filled the coach.

Emma ran up to the door. “Faye, are you okay?” she asked.

Faye answered by pointing shakily at the sofa. “There’s a body in there.”

Emma donned her own knife and walked into the coach while Faye got back up to her feet. They nodded to each other, and once again opened the sofa.

Inside was the prone, nude form of a young boy. He couldn’t have been older than twelve. His body was covered in bruises, and smelled of having been laying in his own waste.

Emma reached in and put a hand under his nose, feeling for breath. “He’s still alive,” she said.

Faye wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Why was he locked in like that? Why wasn’t he wearing any clothes?

“Help me get him out,” Emma said. She looked over to the goblins. “Shrek, help me,” she said.

Shrek nodded and came over, gently helping her get the boy out. He was unconscious, that was certain. He looked as though he’d been freshly beaten to a pulp. He had welt all over him, and–

–and dried blood running down his legs.

Faye’s heart sank as the realization dawned on her. She knew what that meant.

She quickly rummaged through the pile of clothing and found a cloak to wrap the boy in. As they jostled him, his eyes fluttered for a moment. He weakly looked to Emma for a moment.

“...Rilla,” he said weakly before his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness again.

“We need to get him back to camp,” Emma said. “He’s hurt bad.”

Faye had no choice but to agree. If they left him, his fate was either to die from his injuries or… or fall back into the hands of the men who’d…

Faye looked back south down the game trail. She should go back. Kill the men who’d done this to a child.

But she knew that was a bigger risk best not taken right then.

“Lets get what we can, then,” Faye said. “Get him up on the horse, we’ll carry what we can and dump the rest into the river.” It would still take them up to an hour to get back to camp, but they still had plenty of daylight. Plus, they needed to cover their tracks in case anyone tried to follow them.

The would probably have to own up to everything they’d done, and Owen was likely going to lose his mind, but first they needed to get back to camp.