Chapter 33

It’s Gonna Be Hard Getting What You Want From GloomGlower.

Thrush

FlyBooger and I spoke for a night and a day until he couldn’t continue. The goblin captain was too tired, his brain was scrambled, and his yawns interrupted every attempt at a sentence. Hawkin had let the creature sleep in his bed. Warm and safe. The goblin was unaccustomed to a bed by a fire and that’s all he spoke of as we traveled together toward the goblin fleet.

“All my snots are going to be jealous!” FlyBooger said, bundling up in his newly acquired coat against a sudden wind across the ice. “Hawkin is a sucker; gave me this coat for nothing in return!”

“Hawkin is a human. Humans are strange,” I said, adjusting my hide backpack.

“You can say that again!”

“Don’t think I’m not expecting anything from you,” I said. “I am.”

“Yea-yea. I won’t let em attack you on sight.”

“I’m not worried about being attacked,” I said. “All I want is a Fable Stone.”

“Pfff,” FlyBooger said, shaking his head. “I keep telling you, It’s gonna be hard getting what you want from GloomGlower. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get something from him?”

FlyBooger began counting his fingers. Somewhere between the first and second finger, he lost count.

“Well, let’s just say a lot,” he said. “A lot, a lot!”

Ths ships were large blocks of tall, dark shapes that were frozen in ice. Each ship that we passed held a sea of cavorting goblins upon their decks. Contained fires cast black shadows of restless goblins upon the ice. The shadows danced hellishly.

GloomGlower’s ship was large, designed by shoving two smaller ships together and intertwining the boards and materials until it worked and stayed afloat. There was a commotion between a goblin guard on deck and FlyBooger. They settled their dispute and the bottom of a rope ladder was delivered to our feet.

“Me first,” FlyBooger said.

The goblin crew was alarmed and frightened when I pulled myself over the banister.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Thrush.”

“Wait here,” FlyBooger said.

FlyBooger ducked below deck and I surveyed the sea of ice. The sea of ships. The sea of fires. The sea of goblins.

FlyBooger returned nearly an hour later with GloomGlower’s guards on his heels. They created a goblin shield but the goblin king pushed through it.

“You’re the one that stole my ship?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Took my harpoon turret?”

“Yes.”

“Killed my goblins?”

“Yes.”

“I could kill you right now. You’re a fool to wander into the midst of the greatest goblin there ever lived.”

“Ok.”

GloomGlower’s brows furrowed. He tipped his head and gave it a perceptible, confused shake.

“FlyBooger said you were interested in bartering with me,” GloomGlower said. “I’m not interested.”

“Maybe we can talk some more,” I said. “After we talk, you might be interested. FlyBooger told me you like to enjoy beer and coffee. I’ve got beer with me. Maybe you've got coffee?”

“I’ve got coffee, and we are running low on beer,” GloomGlower said with a sparkle in his eyes. “You’re speaking my language. Have you ever had beer and grounds before?”

“Yes. I’ve eaten beer. I’ve eaten the ground.”

GloomGlower guffawed. The goblins around us laughed nervously.

“Let’s go to the deck house,” GloomGlower said. “StubToes will serve us.”

The goblin guards were wary as they guided me through a jungle of goblins. One of them squealed when I accidentally stepped on them. I was told to ignore it and that “it happens all the time”.

The deck house was cozy. Coals burned in a big metal pot. I took one of the couches and GloomGlower took the other. I gave a gourd of Hawkin’s beer to StubToes, who then poured us each a tankard of beer and coffee grounds.

GloomGlower smashed his tankard into mine and we drank.

“Whoa-whoa-wow,” GloomGlower said. “Ahhhhhhhh. That’s the stuff. Alright, here we go now! It’s missing a little something, but it’ll do. It’ll do.”

“It’s missing something? Spit?”

“Is that what it is? I don’t know. SlimeTooth is our resident brewer. StubToes could you spit in my beer for me?”

Instead, StubToes hocked a loogie. Looking down and exposing a double chin, GloomGlower beamed. He dunked his face into the foam and took a sip. He slurped, sucking up the loogie.

“I have to hand it to you,” GloomGlower said. “That’s almost right! Still missing that special something, but I can’t complain because SlimeTooth isn’t brewing as fast as we can drink. Like I said earlier, we’re running low.” He sat back and grinned at me. StubToes shuffled into a small chair in the corner.

“I want a Fable Stone,” I said.

“No,” GloomGlower said. “If I gave you a Fable Stone, that’s one less I’ll have to reward goblins who perform well and survive.”

“I need it to get an inventory,” I said.

“Well, I need all the harpoon turrets I can get,” GloomGlower said. “Things are sometimes out of our control. We all want things and sometimes there’s nothing we can do about it.”

GloomGlower held his hand out. A fiercely turquoise glowing rock popped into his palm.

“Even when it’s within reach,” GloomGlower said.

“You’re taunting me,” I said. “That’s dangerous.”

“Taunting you is a byproduct that I delight in. In my experience, when you show someone what they want—when they can see it with their own eyes—they’re double willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”

“It sounds like you’re open to a trade,” I said.

We each sipped our beer in tandem. GloomGlower wiped his mouth of foam and dried his hand on the couch cushion over a wet, weathered stain fabricated from repetition.

“The problem is, you don’t have anything I need,” GloomGlower said. “Or want.”

“I can fish.”

“We only lost one harpoon turret.”

“I can break the ice and free your ships.”

“I’m biding my time. I’m an opportunist. I don’t want all that trouble. I’m happy to sit tight.”

“I have a smoker. I can smoke meats for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“What is it you want, GloomGlower?”

“A bigger army. Bigger and better ships. I want to be revered as the best goblin that ever lived.”

“Is there anything else you want?”

“No. I’ve got all I could want right here.”

“What if I find you another harpoon turret?”

“Not for a Fable Stone.”

We went on like that for some time. GloomGlower was a tough one to barter with. I found myself fixated on our negotiations. I felt thrilled by the chase for something I wanted. The goblin king was right. After I’d seen the Fable Stone, I wanted it even more. It was so close that I could taste it.

Our conversation lasted through the rest of Hawkin’s beer and almost all the way to the bottom of a barrel of goblin spit beer. That’s when our negotiations sort of fell off the edge of the world. Or so it seemed.

“Let me tell you something, Thrush,” GloomGlower said with a bit of a drunken sway. “This. This right here. You see this beer, here? The one we’re—hiccup—drinking? Well let me just tell you that this is the good stuff. The good stuff.”

“It’s horrendous,” I said. “I love it.”

GloomGlower guffawed until beer foamed out of his nose. He caught the dribbling beer from the point of his chin by holding his mug beneath it. “Waste not, want snot!” he said.

I laughed with him, entertained by the odd king.

After wiping his face and sneezing out what beer remained in his nostrils, GloomGlower composed himself.

“I'm sorry, Thrush. You’ve got nothing I want. I won't let you leave just yet. Let’s open up another barrel of beer. StubToes. Please bring another barrel.”

StubToes descended a ladder, rummaged around and came grunting back up with a small barrel over his shoulder. He was nervous as he tapped it.

“King GloomGlower,” StubToes said.

“What?”

“We’ve only got-” StubToes counted five of his fingers. “-three barrels left, my king.”

“WHAT?”

“I’m sorry, my king.”

“Wake up SlimeTooth and have him start brewing more immediately!”

“He’s currently brewing as much as he can.”

That was the time to interrupt the goblin king.

“GloomGlower,” I said. “Maybe there is something I can do for you. Maybe I can supply you with more beer.”

GloomGlower’s face went through a series of emotions I’d never even seen before. He then settled on squinting his eyes and drawing out his next words.

“Maybe. Maybe that’s something I’d consider a fair trade. Goblins love their beer. They love the king that gives it to them even more. I could be ever more revered! Maybe I would be willing to trade a Fable Stone for a continuous supply of beer. If you can make that happen.”