CHAPTER 19. SPIES AGAIN

Uruk had gotten it a little wrong, because they reached the bridge not in the morning, but in the evening. Still, it was faster than traveling on riding rams. The goblins felt just as fresh as they had at the very start of the journey. They’d also discovered that the Ant Power staved off hunger. So there was no reason at all to stop.
Once they’d crossed the bridge, Uruk changed his mind about taking the Road of the Four Clans. The lands of the Bignoses began here, and he was afraid of running into them on the road. For some reason, it seemed to him that Bignoses only ever rode or walked along roads. Brakha, as always, didn’t argue with the decision.
The goblins quickly reached the road, crossed it, and plunged back into the forest. They had no wish to go any farther south, since somewhere ahead lay a valley full of cave bears. Of course, with the Ant Power, they could have handled a bear. But at what cost? Such a large and powerful animal was unlikely to stand calmly by while it was hacked at with swords. The goblins could be seriously wounded. That was no part of the plan for either Uruk, or — even more so — for Brakha. For one of them, what mattered most right now was carrying out Warden Appo’s will; for the other, simply staying safe and unharmed.
So the new old spies, after running a little way south, turned west.
Before long, darkness fell over the forest. Where the stars and the Cold Sun had helped them the night before, now neither one could be seen in the sky. Such gloom settled over the forest that the goblins could barely make out a hand held out in front of them. They were forced to walk, and very slowly at that. That way, at least, they managed to dodge the trees. Still, Uruk did end up with a small scrape.
“Curse this night. Black as the ground in these parts,” he swore.
“Maybe we should wait for dawn, or until the sky lights up again?” Brakha suggested, straining his eyes to peer ahead until they ached.
“No! That way we’ll lose time, which means we’ll have less of it once we reach the goblinum. We won’t even manage to keep proper watch. And I’m not going back to the Warden empty-handed. So we keep going.”
Time passed, and not a single star appeared in the sky. The clouds had claimed it completely and showed no sign of retreating. Wind might have driven them off, but unfortunately there was none of that either. So the goblins went on moving like snails.
From time to time Uruk grew tired of this and sped up. But then Brakha would hear him shout and curse, which meant Uruk had run into another tree.
“So this is how we waste the Ant Power for nothing. When is something finally going to light up in that sky!” Uruk fumed.
He wanted to go faster again, and Brakha just managed to catch a glimpse of a shape flicker ahead of him. The small goblin calmly waited for everything to repeat itself as usual. And yet this time no shout followed, even though a tree must surely have been in Uruk’s way by now.
“There aren’t any trees here. I must have come out into some kind of clearing,” he heard Uruk’s voice say. “Come on, hurry up and come over.”
Brakha sped up, and to his own surprise didn’t meet a single tree with his forehead. Only the ground had turned wet. He walked on a little further, and now water was squelching underfoot.
“Why is there water here? Maybe we’ve gone off course and come to a river?” he asked.
“How could we go off course, when all we have to do is keep walking straight? And there shouldn’t be any river here at all. There was probably some heavy rain recently that flooded the clearing. Actually, there’s less water here than mud. My feet are even sinking a little. Well, never mind — with the Ant Power, nothing’s going to stop me.”
Brakha took a few more steps. The shallow puddle was gradually turning into a deep one, and at the bottom of it there really was mud to be felt. But it was a strange kind of mud — loose and seemingly endless. With every step, it grew harder and harder to pull his feet free.
And then some inner instinct made Brakha stop and take a few steps back. For some reason, he found himself remembering the stench of the swamp — a smell so familiar back in his home goblinum that no one had paid it any attention in years. But here, that smell was absent. All around him it smelled of forest, and just a little of damp.
Then why did I think of it at all? This is just an ordinary forest, and ahead of me is probably just an ordinary puddle. Except no — it isn’t quite ordinary, because my feet are sinking badly in it. But that only happens in river silt, or in a swamp. Uruk said there’s no river here. And it doesn’t feel like I’ve walked into a river, either. That leaves the swamp. Could we really have walked into a swamp? Brakha thought, horrified.
And just then he heard Uruk’s agitated voice:
“I think I’ve gotten myself into something. It’s like there’s a swamp here. Help me!”
“How am I supposed to help you if I can’t even see where you are?”
Brakha, too, was starting to grow anxious.
“Find a branch. And hurry! I’m already in the mire up to my knees!”
Brakha turned around and headed the other way, drew his sword, and was about to start feeling around for trees, when Uruk spoke again:
“Wait. Are you still nearby?”
“I’m nearby. I was just about to go look for that branch.”
“There, now I can hear you well. You’re not standing in the swamp too, are you?”
“No. Well — right at the edge of it, I mean.”
“Good. I’m going to throw my sword and my bag toward your voice. Maybe I’ll sink slower without them.”
“How am I even supposed to see them in this darkness?” Brakha said, surprised.
“No need to see them. We’ll find them in the morning. Just as long as they don’t land in the swamp. Now duck!”
The goblins weren’t far apart. So Brakha had only just begun to duck when something flew over his head and struck a tree behind him with a sharp crack.
That’s the sword, he guessed.
A moment later, off to one side, the bag flew past and landed on the ground almost without a sound.
Brakha turned around again to head back into the forest. In the pitch darkness, he felt like a goblin who had lost his eyes. Still, he urgently needed to find that life-saving branch.
He began feeling along the trees, searching for side branches. But he couldn’t find one thick enough. Every little branch he came across was no thicker than a goblin’s finger. Of course, there were plenty of branches of every thickness all around him. But Brakha was a small goblin, and simply couldn’t reach them, even with his sword arm stretched out as far as it would go.
Brakha could have jumped. But jumping into the empty dark was just like fishing with a hook and no bait.
At one point the goblin grew angry and wanted to chop down an entire tree. But he quickly gave up the idea. Even if he could lift it, how would he drag it through the trees in the dark? And even if he managed that, how would he then get the tree over to Uruk without crushing him, or pushing him deeper into the mire?
“What’s taking you so long?! Hurry up! I’m already sucked in up to my waist!” Uruk shouted, and in his voice there was not just alarm now, but real despair.
Brakha started running from tree to tree, slamming painfully into trunks and falling. He swung his sword in every direction, but struck nothing but tree trunks.
Still, the goblin had no intention of giving up, and decided to move even farther out. After a few more steps and another collision with a tree, he swung his sword up over his head. This time the blade struck something solid and bounced back.
Without a doubt, this was the very branch he’d been waiting for.
An instant later, Brakha swung harder and cut through it with ease. Quickly feeling out the branch, he shouted to Uruk. Uruk answered him loudly at once. Now, at least, he had some rough idea of which way to go.
Brakha worried a great deal whether the branch would hold. To the touch, it felt not too thick, and somehow dry. But there was no other one anyway.
Meanwhile, dampness appeared underfoot again, followed by sticky mud. The goblin didn’t dare go any farther. He called out to Uruk once more. Hearing a reply, Brakha pointed the branch in that direction, hoping to get it into his hands quickly.
But in the darkness, that turned out to be no easy thing.
The small goblin waved the branch first one way, then the other, raised it and lowered it, tracing circles, triangles, and other geometric shapes in the air — shapes whose existence, of course, he had no idea of. Calling back and forth with Uruk, he kept moving the branch again and again, until at last he felt it caught hold of.
At the same time, Brakha began to make out the outline of his own outstretched arm, then the branch jutting from it, and within moments he could make out Uruk as well. Or rather, what was left of him above the surface: his arms, his head, and his shoulders.
In the commotion, Brakha hadn’t even realized right away that dawn had begun. But now, having caught sight of each other, both goblins let out a sigh of relief. All that remained now was to pull.
Uruk’s body gradually began emerging from the swamp. And through it all, not a single muscle strained in Brakha — assuming, of course, he had any at all on that scrawny body of his. The Ant Power was doing its work.
Uruk, wanting to get out of the deadly trap as fast as possible, gave the branch a sharp yank toward himself. The small goblin hadn’t expected this. He began tipping forward. To keep from falling, he threw himself backward with all his strength, straightening up and flinging his arms out.
It lasted only an instant. But that was enough for the branch to bend and snap. It turned out not merely dry, but already somewhat rotten, and so it couldn’t bear the strain. One half stayed in Brakha’s hands, the other in Uruk’s — and Uruk, thanks to his own sudden movements, began sinking into the mire even faster than before.
“You idiot! What have you done?!” Uruk shouted. “I’m going to drown now, because of you!”
“Well, why did you yank the branch? I was already pulling you out,” Brakha shot back, indignant.
“Go get another branch!” Uruk shouted at him. He was being pulled down into the swamp muck faster and faster.
Brakha ran back toward the trees again.
Good thing it’s already dawn, he thought.
This time he quickly picked out a thick branch and, thinking ahead, checked to make sure it wasn’t rotten. The branch turned out sound. The goblin cut it off easily and ran back.
Brakha found Uruk by his flailing arms. Only they and his head remained above the surface, straining upward with all his might. For all that he was far from a small goblin, and was, moreover, wielding tremendous strength right now, Uruk was powerless against this bottomless devourer of everything living and lifeless alike.
“This one definitely won’t break. You’ll be standing on solid ground again soon,” Brakha said, encouraging Uruk, and held out the branch.
Uruk seized it greedily with both hands, and Brakha began to pull. Just as before, it was effortless. His neck emerged from the mire, and before long his shoulders came free as well. Uruk badly wanted to get out of the swamp as fast as he could. But this time he didn’t jerk around — he simply waited, obedient, clinging to the branch.
Brakha kept pulling, and even decided to speed up a little. But it didn’t work out that way. Quite the opposite — he began to feel a heaviness in his arms. His legs suddenly lost their footing and could no longer hold steady in place. The goblin had to dig his heels desperately into the ground, and every pull on the branch grew harder than the last.
Only a little time passed before Brakha stopped. He could no longer pull Uruk out. He didn’t have the strength for it. Before long he didn’t even have the strength left to hold on to what now turned out to be a heavy branch. Brakha realized the Ant Power was running out, and that he was turning back into a frail goblin.
Meanwhile Uruk’s neck had disappeared into the swamp. Once again, only his head remained above the surface.
“What happened? Why aren’t you pulling me out?!” he shouted, his voice edged with panic.
“My power’s running out,” Brakha answered, at a loss.
He stood without moving, simply staring at Uruk. A moment later the branch slipped from his hands.
“You idiot! We’ve got more! Find my bag, quick! There are two pouches of Ant Power in it!” Uruk screamed, furious.
He was already so far gone in despair that he had entirely forgotten about Brakha’s own Ant Power. It seemed the small goblin, too, had begun to panic, since it hadn’t even occurred to him that his own bag, on his back, held pouches of Ant Power as well.
Hearing Uruk’s furious shout, he threw himself into searching for the bag. But since he hadn’t seen where it had landed, he couldn’t find it. Brakha darted about the spot where, as it seemed to him, the bag should have been, but it simply wouldn’t turn up before his eyes.
“Hurry!” Uruk shouted, with the last of his strength.
Only his face and his arms remained above the surface, lifted toward the sky. As though he were no longer speaking to Brakha at all, but to whoever dwelled up there, in that vast blue abyss — one strangely like the abyss Uruk himself was sinking into.
Brakha finally remembered that he, too, had Ant Power of his own. He pulled off his bag, felt around inside it for a pouch, bit into it, and swallowed it quickly. Within moments the strength returned to him, and he lunged toward Uruk. But where the goblin had been only moments before, there was now nothing at all.
Brakha looked around, thinking that in his haste he’d run to the wrong spot. He called out, hoping Uruk would answer. But silence hung all around. Then he looked closely at the same spot once more, and only now made out the tips of some fingers on the surface. They were no longer moving, and were slowly sinking.
Before long the fingers vanished into the dark abyss, and in their place, large bubbles began rising, one after another.
Brakha grew frightened and began backing away, unable to tear his eyes from the horrible bubbles. It suddenly occurred to him that the swamp was alive, and that the bubbles were nothing but a belch after a tasty breakfast.
Once he’d moved a good distance off, Brakha stood for a long while, watching the swamp. The bubbles were gone, and nothing disturbed the smooth surface anymore. Not a trace remained of what had just happened — so that some chance traveler would never suspect a thing, should he decide to cross this stretch of clearing running from south to north, which looked, at first glance, only slightly flooded.
That was exactly where the treachery of the swamp lay.
Brakha swept his eyes over it and saw that it was small, and looked like a lake — only a very narrow one. As though someone had made it that shape on purpose, as if luring travelers to cross it rather than go around. And that was exactly what Uruk had done. Though who could say — had the night been bright, perhaps he would have gone around the place instead.
Even though Brakha had never felt any warmth at all toward this goblin, he felt sorry for him now. A terrible death, brought on by the desire to win favor with the Warden. That very desire was what had driven Uruk on, and in the end, what had destroyed him.
Brakha no longer wanted to look at the swamp. He needed to leave. But where to?
Left alone, the small goblin felt lost and didn’t know what to do now. After all, he had suddenly become completely free — and, on top of that, he now had three pouches of Ant Power. With those, Brakha could quickly make his way even to the western edge of the forest, and settle down there in some goblinum or other.
But would they take him in? And even if they did, what would they do with him later, once word reached them that his clan had started a war?
After thinking it over a little, Brakha decided to carry out the Warden’s orders after all. Afterward, he hoped, he could do what he had planned since visiting the Iron-master. Casting one last look at the swamp, as though bidding Uruk farewell, Brakha continued on his way.
First he ran a little way south, then turned west. After a while he began coming across familiar places: clearings, ravines, little streams the three of them had passed through together on their way back home from the Bignoses. For some reason he’d remembered them well at the time, even though he’d never imagined he would end up here again.
Along the way he came across all sorts of animals. Timid hares, scattering in every direction long before the goblin ever managed to get close. Proud deer, watching calmly as the two-legged creature ran past.
Brakha even caught sight of a Hunter Mole building its trap, which the goblin very nearly stepped on.
This cunning dweller of the underground loved to hunt those who lived above him. Hares, most of all. Why? Probably because they were foolish and defenseless.
As it drew close to the surface, the Hunter Mole could feel every tremor in the ground, and from its strength could tell who was moving above it. So finding the spots where whole hare families liked to graze was no trouble for it at all.
Settling beneath such a patch of meadow, it first made itself at home, then dug out the earth in one particular spot. But the crafty creature never came up to the surface itself. It left behind a thin layer of soil, held together by a tangle of grass roots. And beneath that layer, a hollow space would form — a hidden little pit, beside which the Hunter Mole took up its post to wait for its prey.
Goblins could spot places like this easily, since the mole, in the course of digging out its pit, worked its paws and body so much that it pushed up the top layer of earth. That left a mound on the surface. Goblins simply walked around it. In fact, just to be safe, they walked around any little mound at all.
Sometimes, in the middle of a green meadow, one might come across a mound with long-since-withered grass on it, looking like a sick sheep in an otherwise healthy flock. That meant the trap had failed to spring. Either no hare had ever jumped onto it, or the top layer of soil had turned out too thick and had held the hares’ weight.
And even though the goblins knew that no one was left under such a mound anymore, they still tried not to step on it. Not that the Hunter Mole could be deadly to a goblin, but it was certainly capable of badly injuring a leg that broke through into the trap. Still, once it realized it had the leg of something large caught in its jaws, it would let go at once and beat a quick retreat into its burrow. It seemed Hunter Moles knew that a creature that size might be carrying a cold, sharp sting.
Hares, on the other hand, saw no danger at all in the mounds. To them, it was simply a patch of meadow with tasty food on it. Nibbling away carelessly at the grass, a hare would sooner or later jump onto the mound, which would give way at once beneath it. The Hunter Mole was always ready. It would lunge at the hare in an instant, sink its long, sharp teeth into it, and drag it down into its burrow. Few hares ever managed to break free of the mole’s deadly grip.
And the pit left behind would, over time, grow over with grass and turn back into an ordinary stretch of meadow, where hares would once again graze. And so it went on, for years, for decades, for centuries.
By evening, Brakha reached the edge of the forest. Ahead, he saw a meadow and fields, and beyond them, a goblinum. But whether this was the very same goblinum, Brakha didn’t know. After all, the first time, he’d been left behind in the forest to watch the rams.
“I need to find the anthills. If they’re here, then I’ve come to the right place,” he decided.
The goblin saw no one, either in the meadow or in the fields, so he ventured boldly right up close to the edge of the forest. Still, no anthills were anywhere in sight.
Maybe I should climb a tree? I think that’s how Dagul and Uruk used to find them, Brakha thought.
He found a tall tree and climbed almost to the very top of it without any trouble. The Ant Power kept surprising the goblin. After all, it had made his life so easy. And now he didn’t want to part with it, not even for a moment.
Brakha began looking around and spotted a great many mounds off in the distance, ones that looked very much like anthills. But whether they really were, or something else entirely, he couldn’t quite make out from here. The goblin climbed down from the tree and walked along the meadow, drawing closer to that spot. Climbing another tree, he looked at the mounds again, and now had no doubt at all that they were anthills.
Wonder how many Dagul and Uruk didn’t manage to raid. Though what does it matter. They all look the same now. As if no one had ever touched them at all. I’m certainly not going to go digging through every single one.
It was starting to grow dark, but he was in no hurry to climb down. For some reason, he’d grown afraid. He could have lit a fire. That was exactly why Brakha had taken Uruk’s bag — it had sparking stones inside it. With a fire going, not a single creature of the forest would have dared come near him. And besides, the Ant Power shouldn’t have run out yet. And yet the small goblin suddenly found himself afraid to be alone in the forest at night.
Night fell. Once again, someone had lit the stars in the sky. Brakha stayed sitting in the tree, staring blankly toward the Bignose goblinum.
Why don’t they use the Ant Power? It’s not like they’d have to run halfway across the forest for it. Any day they liked, they could just go and take as much as they wanted. And be strong all the time, able to do anything at all. Or maybe they simply don’t need it? I’ve heard the Bignoses are happy with their lives, and there’s probably no one among them like me. If I were like them, maybe the Ant Power wouldn’t hold any interest for me either. But I’m not like that. Not like the Bignoses, and not like the Hermits. I’m different. I’m a small monster — that’s what my own goblins call me. And no Ant Power is going to change that. So then what do I even need it for? And what’s the point of any of this? Why am I going to be spying here for the next few days? So it’ll be easier for Warden Appo to conquer this goblinum? But the goblins living here haven’t done anything wrong, not to me, not to my clan. Their only fault is that these cursed anthills happen to be nearby. So it seems it all comes down to the Ant Power alone. It’s the thing that wakes the sleeping evil in goblins.
Brakha’s reflections were cut short by the rays of the sun, slowly crawling over the treetops.
“Morning, at last,” he said, glad of the light, and finally decided to climb back down to the ground.
Over the next two days, Brakha wandered around the goblinum. On the first day, he still had some of the Ant Power left, and he climbed trees to get a better look at the fields, the meadows, and the goblinum itself. But nothing of interest caught his eye. The Bignoses worked their fields and grazed their sheep in the meadows, just like every other goblin. Nothing unusual was happening in the goblinum either, though it wasn’t quite close enough for him to make out its daily life very well.
On the morning of the second day, the Ant Power ran out. By this time, Brakha’s desire to go on spying had begun to fade. More and more often, doubts crept in: was there even any point in doing this at all?
By evening, the goblin sat down by a tree not far from the forest’s edge and gazed idly at the fields, barely visible through the grass. Before long he grew bored of it, and set off deeper into the forest to build a fire and spend the night. Without the Ant Power, he doubted he could manage to hold out an entire night up in a tree. And the goblin didn’t want to spend another pouch just for that.
Moving well back so the fire wouldn’t be spotted, Brakha gathered up some dry branches and lit a fire. He wasn’t worried about food for now, since there were potatoes in Uruk’s bag. Uruk, after all, hadn’t known that with the Ant Power in you, you don’t feel like eating. Now that stash was making the small goblin’s life easier.
Once he’d satisfied his hunger, Brakha lay down close to the fire. Just in case, he clutched a pouch of Ant Power in one hand, and his sword in the other.
Tomorrow’s the last day, and then I’ll have to head back to the Stone Bridge. I wonder how the Warden will react to what I have to tell him. I haven’t seen a thing, after all. There wasn’t anything unusual here at all. No armed Bignoses running around the anthills, or through the goblinum. And besides, how would they even know who stole the Ant Power, or what they’re planning? I heard those three Bignoses are sitting in a cellar somewhere. So they don’t know anything here. Or maybe it would be better if they did know — then maybe the trouble wouldn’t happen at all?
Over the last two days, this question had been sounding louder and louder in the goblin’s head.
With these thoughts, Brakha fell asleep — so deeply that he never heard a family of wild boar grunting loudly nearby for nearly the whole night, rooting around for acorns.
The goblin woke late, when the sun was already high. Popping the last three potatoes into his mouth, he set off toward the edge of the forest, having firmly decided by now what he would do next.