Harper passed us at a gallop, crossing the road away from the hill she had gone over. A cloud of obscuring dust accompanied the bellowing and thunder of heavy feet of the enormous creature chasing her over the semi-flat land. Two more claw-filled dust clouds appeared cresting the hill. Juan started swearing and wheeled his horse around and started riding hard, away from whatever the fuck was coming at us.

  “Why are we racing away from the monsters?” I asked Juan as I caught up.

  He didn’t even glance back. “Do you know what a rhino is?”

  “Yes! Large animal with nose horns, built like a tank? Is that what we’re dealing with? Or not dealing with?”

  “No, but they’re about the same size, and like a cross between a bear and a dragon. And maybe cat. They’re called the brask, but I know little else about them other than that they are very dangerous. Brask have been spreading from gods knows where the past three years.”

  “Okay. Again, why are we running away?”

  “They’re 20 levels higher than I want to deal with out here. Believe me, we don’t have the firepower to stop them out in the open! We ride and try to find a safe place to fight from.”

  But there was nothing in sight but the rolling hills. The horses would give out before we found a defensive position. Despite the speed of the horses, the brask were slowly gaining on us. Mine was breathing hard, and I worried the mare would not make it much longer.

  But hidden from our view by yet another hill was our salvation. Harper whooped at the sight of what I could only describe as a large stockade. Her exuberant cry seemed to energize us all, including the horses.

  “Ride! Don’t stop!” bellowed Juan as he leaned forward, nose almost to his horse’s mane.

  We rode hard for the wooden sanctuary, with its twenty-foot-high wall, hoping against hope there was someone who would let us in. Luckily for us, the gate was open as we approached. It started to close as we got closer, but was just open enough that when we reached it we could get through on our horses.

  As the last horse was through, the gate closed with a bang before something slammed into it. We immediately came to a stop in front of a yelling mass of green. My horse reared at the forest of spears leveled at us. I was not prepared for such a maneuver. “No, bad horse!” I yelled as I lost my grip and fell off. Falling through the air, I glanced about as things seemed to slow down, if only for just a moment.

  Each of the yelling faces I saw was green, their sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. I caught the eye of one of the green men, whose eyes were not angry, but wide with surprise and fear. In the seconds that seemed like hours, his eyes became less fearful and more concerned as I drifted downward. He rushed toward me in the most ridiculous way at that point, spear forgotten and almost comically running in slow motion.

  Before he had gone five steps, my head exploded with pain, and my vision flashed in jagged patches of light. And just as I was about to be overwhelmed, everything gently went dark.

  A few minutes later, at least I think it was a few minutes, everything came back into an aching focus. I looked up into the face of the green-faced man who had rushed to my aid. I could see my horse stepping away, snorting, her eyes wide.

  “Is he okay?” asked a male voice I’d never heard before.

  The spears and the people holding them were still there. They were green, with big ears, sharp teeth, and they towered over my prone figure. I couldn’t tell how many there were, being as I was on the ground, but the number of legs I saw in my periphery made me think there were a lot of them. My head rang, and I wasn’t really tracking what was going on.

  One of the green guys got down and talked to the one checking my head and eyes. “Everyone! This human is hurt and needs our help! They aren’t attacking us,” he yelled to his friends.

  “Back up, give him some air,” growled the one checking on me. “Someone get the healer; he’s hurt pretty bad.” One ran off while the rest backed away with lowered spears.

  “Of course we weren’t attacking,” I had thought I heard Juan protest. Or was it the purple one with mustaches? It was hard to tell with all the commotion and bright, colorful lights that kept popping in to say hello. Whatever else was said, it had gotten harder and harder to comprehend.

  A few more of the green men kneeled around me and lifted me up. The fast motion and hands on me were too much, and I cried out in pain. The world faded away. I was on a small boat. Gently it rocked, carrying me through a dark sea. It was nice. Peaceful. I thought I heard singing in the distance.

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  The light was dim when I woke again, lacking the harsh brilliance of earlier. I was confused as to where I was; remnants of my dreams and memories of pain clouded my thoughts. It was in a cozy room decorated with small rugs on the walls. A candle flickered in a corner on a small table. My head had still hurt, but the impression of discomfort was distant, like through a thick wool blanket. I tried to get up, but a firm hand kept me down. A warm, motherly voice accompanied the hand. “Don’t get up. You’re safe here. You need to rest and heal.”

  Warmth spread out from the woman’s hand and filled my body. I was immediately drowsy and comfortable. As the weight of my eyelids overcame my curiosity, I heard her hum a soft lullaby. This time, I didn’t dream.

  When I awoke again, it was to the sound of something being ground against stone or concrete. Like a rock grinding against the sidewalk. I noticed a woman with brown hair, her back mostly turned to me, working a mortar and pestle. The noise was coming from there.

  My mouth tasted sour and strange. “Where am I?” I mumbled thickly.

  The woman didn’t stop what she was doing, but she turned to look at me. Her skin was dark green in the low light, and I noticed her pointed ears. They were like Harper’s ears, but only in the points. This woman’s ears were larger, with the tips of her ears pointing more out than up. She was older than me, likely in her late thirties if I could judge, and her brown eyes were kind.

  She smiled unabashedly at my consideration. “You’re in my bed. Since we have little in the way of space, it’s the best I could do. Would you believe I used to have a clinic? With twenty beds?” she chuckled wistfully. Her countenance changed slightly. “All gone now. As is my home. As is the settlement we had built.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Her smile faltered. “The war, of course. The Guanathas Empire’s war against your folk and the Twelve Kingdoms Alliance. How do you not know this?” She finished her grinding and emptied the powder into a mug on the table. She added some water from a steaming kettle and brought the steaming mug over to the bed, sitting on a stool. With a gentle hand, she tilted my head and brought the mug to my lips. “Here now, drink some of this.”

  I sipped the hot, bitter liquid gratefully. My parched throat felt better. “My folk? I’m sorry. I just came to this world a few days ago, and I really don’t know what’s going on.”

  She widened her eyes a little at the mention of coming to this world. “So, your people aren’t from the east? I didn’t… it doesn’t matter. You are hurt and need healing. And I am the only healer for this camp and for many miles. I’ll get you back on your feet. I’m Marta, by the way.”

  “Thank you, Marta. What about my friends?” I asked.

  “Your friends are fine. That whole misunderstanding when you all rode in chased by brask… Well, we goblins don’t like being startled in normal times, let alone when we are running and hiding.” She held the mug to my lips and tipped it for me to drink some more of the tea. “Everything is just fine now, and no one else got hurt. They checked in on you while you slept. But as everyone knows, goblins take care of their guests.”

  The way she said the last did not sound ominous based on her tone and the kindness in her eyes. Yet, I thought goblins were supposed to be bad guys. That’s how Sean had always talked about them. And those kinds of goblins would also ‘take care of their guests.’

  By the time I got all the tea down, I was already feeling better. I sat up.

  “Careful,” Marta said, concern heavy in her voice.

  I nodded. To my surprise, my head, which had felt terrible earlier, did not fall off. It ached, though, and my feeling of wooziness hadn’t fully gone away. And that may have been why I spoke so openly about my confusion about goblins to this kind soul helping me get better. “You’re a goblin? I thought goblins were supposed to be evil creatures that ate people.”

  “What kind of nonsense is that? Is that how goblins are where you come from?” She had a horrified look on her face, which flushed. “I’ll have you know we are a peaceful people. I’ve never heard such hateful drivel,” she admonished angrily.

  Again, I had fucked up. The look of horror and betrayal on her lovely face was enough to break my heart ten times over. This would go on the list of things that kept me awake at night. “Oh God, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply you or any other goblins… they were stories from my world. We don’t have any real goblins. I don’t know why I said any of that. Again, I’m so sorry.”

  She still looked a little flushed, the skin of her neck and face a darker shade of green but no longer like she was going to bite my head off. “I guess you don’t know any better. But don’t you go saying things like that anymore. The world is not a kind place right now, and we have not had an easy time of it. It would not do for anyone to hear of anyone considering us monsters. Being refugees is bad enough without that rubbish.”

  “I…I won’t. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded curtly. Her face softened a bit, and she felt my forehead. Her hand was warm. “Your fever’s gone, which is good. Though why you had one in the first place is beyond me. Your color is better, so I would say you should be able to walk around a bit this evening. If I had been able to bring all of my supplies, I would have had you back on your feet and healthy days ago. As it is, what little healing magic I have and the herbs that I have been able to gather kept you from dying from your head injury.”

  “Thank you,” I said, grateful for her healing and moving on from my massive screw-up. But I was out for days? That wasn’t good.

  “You’re welcome. Do you remember your name?” she replied with a small smile while gently examining my scalp.

  I wasn’t expecting that question, but it made sense for her to check if my brain was working right. “My name is Finn,” I said.

  “Good, and how old are you, Finn?” she asked, checking off the boxes like a doctor back home would.

  “23 years old last August.” I replied. I hoped she wouldn’t start asking too many questions, like my pet’s name or favorite job.

  “Good, your memory seems fine. Though I don’t know what this August you are talking about is. A festival or something? Never mind, a thing from your world, I guess. Are you hungry?” She reached over to the nightstand, lifting a tray of food.

  I shook my head and regretted it. “Ah. No, thank you. Maybe in a little while.”

  She nodded and set the tray back. “Then you should get some more sleep. I’ll let your friends know that you’re better.” She got up from the stool, and I listened to her leave, not wanting to move my head to watch her go. I eased myself down again and looked up at the bare ceiling. To sleep in a goblin’s bed. An attractive goblin, whom I had insulted.

  I stared forlornly at the ceiling, thinking about how much of an idiot I was.