The Map by William Ritter Read Free Book Online

out of the mountain, and from this vantage point I could see countless other landings all across the rocky wall. Ladders and pipes and all manner of scaffolding crisscrossed from one cave to another, with metal braces buried into sheer rock face for support. A complex system of chains and pulleys supported a sort of hanging elevator, which rattled diagonally between two uneven platforms. A system of cogs clanked to life beside us, pulling into motion a zigzagging staircase, which swung itself up, end over end, folding and collapsing until it settled to a stop with a series of loud clacks, having completely re-formed into a gangplank above us. Steam boilers chuffed, cables and pulleys whirred, and all around there was the smell of engine grease and coal fire.
    Everything about the place was preposterous. An entire mechanical world clung to the cliffside, whirring and creaking and buzzing. For all the fantastic ingenuity at work, every incredible contraption seemed on the verge of falling to pieces. Bridges swung and sagged as goblins jogged carelessly across them, and I could see that the rhythmic pumping of a pair of heavy pistons was rattling the screws out of an already precarious aqueduct system nearby.
    “Sir,” I whispered to Jackaby as we approached the entrance to the great cave, “how is it you came to be friends with Mr. Nudd?”
    It was the goblin chief who answered. “ Jus’
Nudd
, lassie —y’ kin scrap th ’
mister
. An ’ yer boss has me friendship ’cause e ’ s a dirty swindlin ’ knave.”
    “Is that so?” I turned my eyes to Jackaby again, who nodded. “And just what did my employer swindle from you?”
    “I jus’ told ye. Me friendship!” The chief laughed. “I’m nae chopsin ’ the mannie’bout it, mind ye. I got nae but respect fir ’ im.”
    Jackaby acknowledged the compliment with a nod. “The sentiment is mutual, my friend.” He explained to me, “Nudd and I became acquainted when he contracted my services to retrieve a certain item of some importance.”
    “What sort of item?” I asked.
    “Th ’ sort an outsider like yerself should nae gae askin ’ too many questions abou ’ .” Nudd shot a dark look my way, and I swallowed hard. Jackaby continued cheerily.
    “Oh, the details aren ’ t important. The fact is, goblin tribes acquire some of the most remarkable artifacts, due to their notoriety as barterers. If there ’ s something you need but cannot acquire through traditional channels, goblins can make it manifest. You ’ re likely to lose more than you gain, of course, but that ’ s just business. You won’t meet a more savvy salesman than a goblin.”
    “Aye,” Nudd said. “But there ’ s nuffin ’ a goblin hates more ’ n red in a ledger. We settle our debts, nae matter what’s owed.” We drew up to a brass panel in the cave wall, and Nudd gave it a bang with his fist. Cogs spun, and a wide table swung downward, stools unfolding out of the metalwork as it settled to the ground. He plucked three rough ceramic goblets from a hanging rack and filled them with a dark-brown liquid. “That ’ s ’ow yer boss bamboozled me outta me kinship. ’E agreed t ’ take our case in exchange fer somethin ’ that woundn ’ ae cost me a thin ’ , an ’ that he would happ ’ ly return the momen ’ it was given. Was only after he ’ d done the deed tha ’ I found out I ’ d been hustled into a friendship wi ’ the bastard.” He cackled at the memory, and drained his goblet with one swig.
    “He won your friendship . . . in a shady business deal?” I marveled.
    Jackaby smiled. “Seemed the best way to go about it.”
    “Aye, tha ’ it was. But let ’ s cut righ ’ tae the meat.” Nudd straightened up. “Friend or no, yer nae here fir me good comp ’ ny. Wha ’ brings y ’ tae th ’ tribe?”
    Jackaby and I exchanged glances. My employer spoke first. “ We don’ t know.”
    Nudd looked unimpressed.
    “How long has your tribe been here?”