Chapter 28: How to be stealthy like a cat
The forest smelled like something alive that had already died a little inside—rotting leaves, brittle branches, and a humid air that clung to your skin like overdue debt. Not that I was complaining.
After nearly getting crushed by a living temple, swallowed by monsters, and manipulated by a goblin who thought he was a king, walking between trees almost felt noble. Peaceful. Almost therapeutic.
Ashveil wasn't far now, and I knew the path by heart.
That was the problem—I knew exactly what was waiting for me there.
And honestly, I wasn't in a rush.
Brelgrik trailed behind me, half-stumbling, half-dancing, like every root was greeting him personally and every rock was reciting poetry. The creature had a remarkable talent for seeming out of place anywhere, even in places he picked himself.
We were walking through the lesser-used part of the trail—the one merchants avoided and even bandits didn't bother to ambush—and I was thinking. Thinking too much.
What was I supposed to do with him?
I couldn't just march into town and drop the goblin at the newspaperman's feet.
"Hey, Marlow! Here's a demented ex-king full of secrets and allergic to sunlight. Should make for a great headline!"
That, or I'd end up arrested for trafficking unregistered magical creatures.