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Hide and Go Seek
Nancy Varian Berberick
For a long time Keli did not know where he was.
Sometimes he smelled the forest and the river, sometimes
only dirt and rocks. Once the boy thought he heard thunder
rumbling far, far away. Then, on the tenuous bridge
between darkness and consciousness, he knew with the
flashing certainty of lightning's strike that it was not thunder
he was hearing.
It was the voice of nightmare: the voice of a goblin.
"Tigo, let's dump the little rat in the river. We have
what we want."
Keli expected to feel the goblin's huge gray hands drag
him up and cast him into the river.
Far back in his mind he knew about the leather thongs
pinioning his arms, binding him at knee and ankle. Too, he
felt the hard earth, the fist-sized rock digging into his ribs.
Pain, however, was not as immediate as death-fear.
A second voice, sounding like the rattling of old bones,
growled, "Bring him over here, Staag; see what he's
carrying first."
Someone shouted, then yelped. Keli's eyes flew open, his
heart leaped hard against his ribs. He was not alone in his
captivity!
Bruised, pinioned, and bound as Keli was, his fellow
prisoner was in a worse plight, caught hard by the neck in
the goblin's iron-fingered grip
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