Something struck him in the arm and his weapon tumbled to the floor, rolling out of his grasp.
The soft tones demanded, “Show me where she is.”
Trayson strained to see where his cudgel lay. He could leap for it, but the goblin would be on him before he could react. For a goblin, it was. The portrait in his mind’s eye was not utterly false. The voice had been so like hers. And no other creature could so deftly evade detection. Things became clear to him. The last few nights he had merely been observed. The goblin was watching him, to find out where she was. Somehow, it knew. Perhaps, it had tracked her; for these creatures had a widespread reputation for such. It was believed they could follow any trail, no matter how slight; and regardless of any attempt to conceal it. But he had not obscured the path. She would have suspected, then. And he had not expected her to be missed. After all, she was a goblin. He smirked, and then replied, “I could show you. But you would not like what you see.”