Have 2 Sky Magic (Haven Series 2) by B. V. Larson Read Free Book Online Page B

turned his head this way and that, and held the haunch high overhead.
    “I call to thee,” he said carefully, “I give thee leave to share my fire, whatever yea may be.”
    Nothing happened. He set about eating the haunch noisily. He did not know if his invitation had been heard and understood, but he listened closely while not seeming to. At last, as he finished the first haunch and reached for the second, a stealthy rustling met his ears.
    Twrog shifted his flapping ears toward the trees behind him. He glanced back to see what it was that approached. There was a faint glimmer. Could it be then one of the Fae? He knew a short moment of concern. If he had invited and elf or one of the shining Dead….
    But no. The shine of it, reflecting the unseen moonlight that shone down upon the leaves overhead, proved it was one of the Fae. Seeing the rest of the creature made Twrog snort in amusement. It was no great lord that had stalked him. There was nothing to fear from this one. The creature that emerged was small, with cat-like features and smooth, green skin. It was a lone goblin.
    Twrog shook his head bemusedly. He had never sat at camp with a goblin. Had he known…but he had not, and the invitation had been issued and accepted. There was nothing for it. By the rules of honor which almost all creatures in Cymru adhered to, he was bound to tolerate its presence.
    The goblin slunk forward, ears twitching. It nosed the air and flicked its eyes everywhere, suspecting duplicity. Twrog continued eating and chuckled to himself. He could not believe his foolishness at having invited a goblin to dine with him.
    “Name?” asked Twrog.
    The goblin hesitated. No doubt, it considered a dozen lies. “Frakir,” it said at last. The eyes flickered uncomfortably.
    “Twrog,” Twrog said.
    When the other came at last to rest on the opposite side of the fire, the giant handed a foreleg to his guest.
    “Here,” Twrog said. When Frakir did not reach for it quickly enough, Twrog grunted and shook it at him. Hot grease splattered his hand and the goblin’s face. Finally, the frightened, scowling goblin took the meat and sniffed it suspiciously as if he believed it might be laden with poison.
    Twrog snorted again. “Meat good! Not even have salt on it, fool goblin!”
    “I have your word it is good?” asked Frakir in a sibilant voice.
    “You speak to Twrog? Good. Boring guest is one that can’t make speech with me.”
    The goblin’s eyes narrowed. “The meat is good?” he asked again.
    “Yeah, yeah!” roared Twrog in sudden irritation. “No more ask that! I will eat it myself, if you don’t do!”
    Frakir’s ears folded down, but he took the offered foreleg in both hands and ripped into it with the sharp, rippled teeth of his kind. They were teeth clearly made to eat meat and nothing else.
    For a time, the two beings ate hot pig meat. Finally, however, after the second haunch, Twrog threw the bone down into the fire. Sparks loomed, coals and ash blew up as if thrown. The goblin hopped to its feet and crouched warily.
    “Not the same!” shouted the giant.
    Frakir cocked his head wonderingly.
    Twrog pointed to the half-eaten carcass that was now white with showers of ash. “Taste! Not the same taste! Is not fair. The River Folk tricked Twrog.”
    The goblin’s tongue snaked out and whipped back into his mouth. He eyed the rest of the pig.
    Twrog made a wild, sweeping gesture with both hands. “Eat more! Is garbage!” he roared. Then he stood up and walked away. Internally, he raged. The taste was good, but it was not the taste of a ham hock. Somehow, the humans had misled him. They were tricky, and they hid their best meats. They kept them from Twrog. He would make them pay for their cruel deceptions.
    The giant left the goblin, the pig and the fire behind and made his way into the forest. He was tired, it was late, and he really should find a spot to sleep. But he did not. He wanted to see the tree in the glade more than