Jim moves silently from rooftop to rooftop. The wind ruffles his hair. The dry night air is heavy with the scent of car fumes. Below him the streetlights hum softly casting yellow pools of light on the vacant streets.
As he nears the edge of the next roof, he hears crunching from below. He drops to all fours, palms rasping against the concrete edge of the roof, and peers into the dark alleyway. A large, grey troll is riffling through a dumpster. As Jim watches he selects an empty glass bottle and begins chewing it. Jim's mouth waters slightly but he shakes his head. No eating on patrol; he can grab a snack from Eli's trash. He's rather partial to the leftover bits from the plastic model kits his friend likes to assemble.
A slight breeze kicks up and brushes against the back of Jim's head, ruffling his hair. Down in the alleyway the troll that he's observing frowns and then raises his head to scent the air. Jim draws back from the edge of the roof. The troll is doing nothing wrong and an interaction will only serve to put Jim in a bad mood.
He glances around for a moment before moving to the other side of the roof and jumping to the next building over.
He sees a few more trolls out foraging and successfully manages to avoid being seen by any of them. Behind a tire shop he finds a small pack of goblins guzzling used oil. There's five of them lounging around on a pile of tires.
The one at the top of the pile glances at the auto shop roof and spots him. It makes a sound of outrage and starts pointing aggressively at him. The rest of them are soon on their feet and jeering. One of them flips him off. Jim rolls his eyes. As long as they're not causing problems, he'd just as well rather not get in a fight with the goblins. They're not strong but, as a group, they can make life miserable.
"Have a good night," He calls to them jokingly before bounding away.
Fortunately, they do not follow him.
He continues his route for the evening and soon comes to Mr. Beniot's French Bistro. The lights inside are out and a red "nope" sign is lit up in the window. He wonders what the golden-eyed boy and his cat are up to tonight. He's been seeing them around a lot. Unfortunately, Merlin is still firm on forbidding Jim from approaching them. It was too bad. It would be fun to have company on his patrols, but Jim has already been testing his patience by continuing to spend time with Eli so he doesn't want to take the risk.
Jim stares at the Bistro for a little longer and then keeps going.
He's just nearing the Museum when he hears goblin chatter. His ears prick up and swivel as he tries to ascertain where it's coming from. He slinks low along the edge of the rooftop toward the sound.
Across the plaza he spots a group of goblins carrying something out of the museum. Jim frowns. He can't make out what they have from this distance, but he doubts it's anything they should have.
He carefully shimmies down a narrow alleyway to the ground and then works his way quicky but stealthily toward the goblins. Observing them from behind a bush, he finds that they are carrying a large wooden crate.
He follows them silently for some distance while debating what to do about this. He considers trailing them to their destination to find where their nest is but then decides against it. It will be exponentially harder to retrieve the box when they're at their nest.
Mind made up, Jim picks up speed and cuts in front of them. The goblins come to a halt and begin snarling.
Jim's ears flick and he fights the urge to snarl back.
"Look," He says slowly. "Just let me take a look in the box and I won't have to hurt you."
The goblins jabber angrily, and he can tell it won't work. He summons Daylight as they charge him. In about five seconds he has reduced them to slime. He holds Daylight over their remains and draws on the Inferno Stone in his amulet. Blue flames flicker out from the sword and consume the goblin remains.
Jim glances around and, seeing no one, uses Daylight to pry open the box. The contents are revealed and Jim drops his sword with a gasp. The fur on his scruff fluffs up, prickling uncomfortably under his armor. It's Kanjigar's head sitting in the box staring at him.
With shaking hands, Jim reaches out. His father's mentor's face is twisted into a desperate, anguished expression, eyes wide, mouth open as if to speak. Jim runs his hand over the lifeless stone, keening softly, then he bends forward and presses his forehead to Kanjigar's. He doesn't know how long he stays there, but the positions of the stars have shifted slightly by the time he stands up.
Carefully he sets the lid on the box. He will need to bring it to Trollmarket. His stomach churns at the thought of the task. They… the residents will not take it well. For a moment he toys with asking Merlin to do it but… no… this is something he needs to do himself. For Kanjigar. For his father.
He hefts the heavy box up on his back and starts in the direction of the market.
Eli is restless. Jim is supposed to be here by now. Has something happened? He looks out the window into the blue night and chews on the end of his pencil. He had slept a few hours and then woke up when his alarm went off for his usual rendezvous with his troll friend.
A yawn escapes him.
It was then that he saw movement in the backyard. Eli perked up.
Jim?
It isn't Jim. Instead he sees a familiar bloblike form working its way across the yard. A goblin.
Eli's heart speeds up. The goblin's nose is to the ground as it scuddles in a weaving path toward the house. It comes to a stop below Eli's window. It sniffs a few times and then begins crawling up the wall like a giant frog. Eli draws back from the window and hides under his desk heart beating rapidly.
After a moment a dark shadow appears in the square of moonlight on his floor. A whimper of fear attempts to escape him and Eli covers his mouth with both hands. There is a squeal like a squeegee being pulled across a mirror and then a rattle. Eli's eyes widen. The window holds. The shadow remains a moment longer before it goes away. Eli remains curled under his desk.
Had the goblin tracked Jim here? Did they know that they were meeting?
Eli doesn't dare come out. What if it is still there watching from a distance?...
What if it finds another way in?
Eli hits his head on the desk trying to get out quickly. He lets out a whimper but quickly grabs his staff. He has to make sure the house is secure.
"Keep it together, Pepperjack!" He whispers. "Jim's trained you for this."
He pushes open the door and creeps quietly through the house. A floorboard creaks underneath his foot. Eli flinches and goes still. Nothing. Gripping his staff tightly he continues down the stairs, careful to step on the edges.
The front door is locked. The back door too and all the downstairs windows. The door to the basement is locked. He hesitates for a moment. He should really check the basement itself. He imagines walking down the stairs into the cold, poorly lit room. There are always strange noises down there. As far as he can tell it isn't haunted -he's checked- but he's never been able to shake the uncomfortable feeling it gives him.
He removes his hand from the knob and ventures back upstairs. The bathroom window is locked. He breaths a sigh of relief before tensing up. What about his mom?
Heartrate picking up again he creeps to her room and opens the door as quietly as possible. The hinges creak. Eli freezes and holds his breath. A drop of cold sweat trickles down his neck. His mom grumbles in her sleep and turns over but doesn't wake. Feeling dizzy Eli lets out his breath. It sounds loud in the quiet room. He tiptoes across the floor and checks the window. Locked. Lucky. His mom often sleeps with one open. Eli returns to his room and sets the staff beside his bed before crawling under the covers.
He wonders what happened to Jim. He hopes his friend is okay. He wonders if anything would have happened if a window or door had been unlocked. Would the goblin have come in? What would it have done inside? Jim had warned him that goblins were known to eat humans. Eli shivers.
He glances at the window. Nothing there. He pulls his blanket over his head. He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.