Goblins Vs Dwarves by Philip Reeve Read Free Book Online Page B

good price for it too; I’ll not deny that. Enough to pay off my debts, but not, alas, enough to live on.”
    He rose, brushing the dust from his shabby clothes. “Come. I’ll take you there.”

Coriander was not as large a city as Clovenstone, but it was alive and full of people whereas Clovenstone was dead and all but deserted. It was so alive and so busy, in fact, that Skarper grew quite weary from all the new sights he saw on the way to the House of Carnglaze. Dr Prong led the travellers back down to the River Ystrad and across another, much bigger, better bridge where no trolls lurked. Soon they were in parts of town where lanterns hung from metal trees to light the wide, paved streets; where carriages clattered by and people in bright clothes promenaded, enjoying the warmth of the autumn evening. They passed the shops of clocksmiths and locksmiths, map-makers and book-binders; they passed shops so high-class and select that Skarper simply couldn’t work out what they sold. They passed parks and public gardens where fountains played, and a place where a big purple tent was being erected, the signs outside advertising Your Fortune Told! Your Future Foreseen! See Visions of Things To Come in Madam Maura’s Oracular Bathtub! They climbed long stairways, and emerged on to quieter streets which looked out across the bay to where the lights of Boskennack twinkled.
    In one such street Dr Prong led them to a tall, narrow building which looked almost as stern and lonely as he did himself. In an effort to make it cheerier someone had planted bay trees in tubs outside the door, and put up a knocker in the shape of a winged head – a trophy which Henwyn and Skarper recognized, for it had been the symbol of the Lych Lord and the ruins of Clovenstone were full of such things. It seemed to be the only sign that Carnglaze needed.
    â€œThe knocker is new, since my time,” said Dr Prong, lifting it, and rapping briskly on the door. After a short time there came a sound of bolts and deadlocks being undone. The door creaked open just a crack, and a hideous face peered out.
    â€œWoddyer want?” it growled.
    Skarper let out a frightened yelp and darted behind Henwyn. He couldn’t help himself. The face belonged to Knobbler, who had once been King Knobbler, the biggest, toughest and most ruthless of all the goblins of Blackspike Tower. The other goblins had lost all respect for him when they found out that he wore pink fluffy knickers under his armour, and he’d had to give up the whole kinging thing and come to work as servant and bodyguard to Carnglaze, but he was still a terrifying figure to poor Skarper, who had sometimes seen him bite the heads off smaller goblins just for “looking at him in a funny way”.
    â€œI know you,” said Knobbler, glaring at Henwyn. “You’re that softling, Hedwig.”
    â€œHenwyn,” said Henwyn.
    â€œHmp,” said Knobbler. Then his gaze fell on Skarper, peeking out from behind his friend’s cloak. “And I know you too! You’re that troublemaker, Skratcher. . .”
    â€œSkarper,” said Skarper.
    Knobbler’s yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you looking at me in a funny way?” he growled.
    â€œOh no! No! Not a bit!” said Henwyn and Skarper at once. But they were, and so was Dr Prong, because while they had been talking Knobbler had opened the door a little further, and they had seen that the former king of Blackspike was wearing a flowery, full-skirted dress with a frilly white apron over it.
    â€œMaster Carnglaze,” said Knobbler, slightly defensively, “says that ‘goblins are neither male nor female’. That means that if I find it more comfy to wear a dress, I can. And I do find it more comfy to wear a dress.” He leaned towards the visitors slightly, clenching his massive fists. “Have you got a problem with that?”
    â€œOh no! No! Not at all!”