Golaka had run the kitchen for as long as Jig could remember. Older goblins would sometimes tell stories about meals she had made when they were children. How long had she been alive? Could anyone remember a time when someone else cooked here?

Goblins rarely died of old age, a sad fact Jig had never before stopped to consider. So nobody really knew how long a goblin could expect to live. But surely Golaka had long ago exceeded her life span.

Jig stared at her with such intensity that she actually stopped in midrant, an occurrence unheard of in goblin history.

“What’s the matter? I suddenly turn beautiful or something?” She laughed loudly. “Not nice to stare, Jig. And I’m afraid you’re a bit too young for me.” She took her stirring spoon and smacked him on the arm, splashing broth onto his stomach.

Jig ignored the burning broth as he stared at the spoon. The brass head topped a wooden handle. A simple, unadorned wooden handle, about a yard long.

“What is it, Jig?” Riana followed his stare, and her sudden gasp told him that she had reached the same conclusion.

They had found the Rod of Creation.

CHAPTER 16 - Fetching the Rod

CHAPTER 16

Fetching the Rod

Jig snatched for the rod. Golaka stepped back, and the heavy spoon crashed onto Jig’s head as he stumbled past. He staggered, white spots floating across his vision.

“Stupid kid,” Golaka said. “Get out of here and let me work. Nobody samples the food before mealtime, not even the chief.”

“You said the chief was dead.”

“That’s right, and unless you want to join him, you’ll keep your grimy claws to yourself.”

Jig leaned against a wall. Maybe he didn’t have to do anything more. Darnak had thought a dragon made a fearsome guardian. That was because he had never encountered an angry goblin cook.

Jig could leave Golaka and the rod in peace. When Barius and the others got here, she would pummel them with the rod, throw in a tongue-lashing to make them sorry they ever saw a goblin, and send them on their way. If they protested, well, Golaka could always use more meat for the pot. Yes, that would be much easier.

Riana slipped close to his side and whispered, “Jig, are you okay?”

What a stupid question. But he nodded anyway.

“Good.” In a louder voice, she added, “Then let’s kill her and get out of here.” She leaped toward Golaka, sword flashing in the torchlight.

Jig slapped at his waist. That was his sword! Riana had stolen it.

His annoyance was nothing next to Golaka’s reaction. Her eyes bulged like a lizard-fish’s. Her ears flattened, and her broken fangs scraped against her upper teeth. “Pull a knife on me? Not in my kitchen, little elfling. You won’t kill Golaka that easily.”