Grizelda
the
floor slope upward under her feet. The low murmur of thousands of
voices seemed to be coming from somewhere very far off. Then she
realized it was coming through the wall. Only a few feet of stone
separated her from thousands of goblins.
    What was she on trial for? Sorcery? What were
they going to do to her?
    The officer turned back to her and all at
once slapped a hand to his head.
    “Aw, gee, I forgot the cuffs!”
    He grabbed her wrists distractedly, looked up
the ramp, then back at her wrists. He sighed. “Just keep your hands
behind your back. Don’t touch anything. You walk in front of me,
not too fast, not too slow. Now go! You’ve on!”
    The ramp was so narrow they had a brief
struggle to get Grizelda in front. She looked back to the officer
for assurance; he gave her a gentle nudge. For what seemed like the
umpteenth time that day, she told herself to have courage. What
could they do to her, really? A lot. She tried not to think about
that as she clasped her hands behind her back, lifted her chin, and
marched up the ramp.
    She winced as a bright light splashed down on
her. Her march turned into a blind fumble. She couldn’t make out
much more than the dim outline of the ramp below her feet, but she
kept going. A murmur went up all around her, above and below.
    All at once the ramp beneath her turned into
empty space. She’d been about to make another step but she checked
it, reeling frantically. She stepped backwards a few paces just to
get away from that ledge.
    Slowly, the light-dazzle faded, and she could
make out the rows and rows of faces, all around her. She was
standing on a platform in the center of a giant sphere. They must
have carved it straight out of the rock, she realized. It was as
big as a stadium, with risers below her and balconies above, and
every one of those seats was filled with a goblin watching her. Oh, God. She swallowed. She felt terribly exposed up there
on a platform in the middle of empty space, all the worse because
it was without railings.
    She remembered she was supposed to be on
trial and put her head back down. Still, she couldn’t help sneaking
horrified sidelong glances now and then at all those green upturned
faces.
    “How kind–” A raised voice struggled to be
heard over the excitement of the crowd. Grizelda looked where the
voice was coming from. There was an important-looking balcony set
apart from the rest of the seats where eight goblins sat at a
table, quills and glasses of water set before them.
    The goblin in the middle stood. “Citizens!
Comrades!” he repeated, but it had no effect on the crowd.
    So this was the Chairman Grendel? He didn’t
look nearly as terrible as Grizelda had imagined. Or that great,
for that matter. He was a diminished goblin, bespectacled and borne
down with age. There was something about him that spoke of a great
tiredness.
    He banged a book down hard against the table.
Finally the crowd quieted down.
    “As I was saying , how kind of you to
finally show up. Let’s get started, shall we?” He cleared his
throat. “Members of the Goblin Union, you are here on grave
business. A trespasser has been found on our land. Her presence
here goes against all our most ancient laws. For it, she must stand
trial.”
    So it was trespassing. She’d heard the
goblins were clannish. And they had strange customs. Who knew what
sort of a punishment they gave for trespassing?
    “Presiding over this trial will be Foreman
Shad of Mining, Sections A-F…”
    The goblin at the far left of the table stood
up.
    “Foreman Denco of Manufacturing … Foreman
Badambal of Culture … Foreman Ranshin of Ogre Relations…”
    The Chairman named all seven of his foremen
in turn, until they were all standing at the table behind him.
    The Chairman had been speaking to the
audience, but now he turned around to address his foremen. “In your
decision, preserve the interests of the worker and the goblin way
of life. This court is now in session.”
    On cue, all

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