Goblins Vs Dwarves by Philip Reeve

they all said, and Henwyn added, “It is very fetching, really. But we are actually here to talk with Carnglaze.”
    Knobbler grunted and shoved the door shut. Henwyn and Skarper exchanged a quick, bewildered look as they stood waiting on the step. Behind them, Dr Prong shook his head and muttered softly, “Children’s tales. . .”
    The door opened again. This time Carnglaze himself stood there, smiling at his visitors. “Henwyn! Skarper! Welcome! This is a surprise! I was not expecting you! What brings you here? Do you have any more treasures from Clovenstone for me? The stuff I brought back after my last visit is selling fast; I shall soon need more. Come in! Come in! Oh, and you too, Dr Prong!” he added, calling out to the philosopher, who had turned and was walking sadly away from the house which had once been his.
    They all went inside; through a big room where objects and artefacts from the Lych Lord’s time were arranged on shelves and tables like a museum with price tags, and then upstairs into a cosy, curtained parlour where Carnglaze’s wife came bustling to meet them. Henwyn and Skarper knew her: a plump, cheerful woman, she’d come with Carnglaze that summer when he brought his string of packhorses over the hills to Clovenstone to fetch away more treasures. But behind her stood someone they did not know; a young woman who rose nervously from the chair she had been sitting in and backed away, as if she wanted to hide herself from the visitors.
    â€œThis is Zeewa, my niece,” Carnglaze explained. “She has come all the way from Musk to visit me.”
    Henwyn bowed, and Zeewa nodded back. She was a tall, big-boned young woman, as dark skinned as her uncle, her hair done up in tight rows of tiny plaits. She wore a fine dress of some Muskish fabric and silver rings glittered in her ears, but she seemed nervy and ill at ease. Around her the air shimmered, and something about that shimmer made all Skarper’s hair stand on end, and his tail begin to tingle. His sharp goblin ears detected sounds that the humans around him could not hear: thin whisperings and a faint, high-pitched drone.
    â€œIf you will excuse me, my uncle. . .” said the girl, and she turned and went hastily from the room.
    Carnglaze tutted sadly. “A fine young woman, but troubled. She came here in the belief that I was a sorcerer and could help her with certain . . . difficulties that she is having. But of course I am not a sorcerer, just a humble merchant.” He looked hopefully at Henwyn’s pack. “What have you brought from Clovenstone? Some new treasure from the deep storehouses?”
    â€œOnly cheese,” said Henwyn, setting the pack down.
    â€œAh, that explains the smell,” said Mistress Carnglaze. “I’ll take it to the cold store.”
    â€œIt is a gift for the High King,” Henwyn explained. “Ned said he must have all sorts of treasure and things at Boskennack already, so we thought cheese instead.”
    â€œVery sensible, I’m sure,” said Carnglaze, wafting the smell of Clovenstone Blue away as his wife went out with the cheese. “But why do you wish to see the High King?”
    They explained, while Knobbler served spiced wine in pewter cups, and the Carnglazes and Dr Prong all listened carefully. “So that is why we must see his majesty,” Henwyn finished. “When he hears of the dwarves’ intentions he is sure to send a few heroes and a band of men-at-arms to defend us.”
    But Carnglaze looked doubtful. “Oh dear! Oh, I wish I could be so sure. You see, dwarves have arrived in Coriander too! Not mining or anything, just a small embassy, come to see the High King for themselves. They are led by someone called Chief Surveyor Durgar. He and his friends are staying at a tavern called The Sleepy Mermaid while they wait for an appointment with the High King. I have not heard why they are here, but I