The old goblin watched him with gold-flecked eyes half closed, considering. “Tell me your name, brave and foolish boy.”

“Rownie,” said Rownie.

The goblin’s already wide eyes widened. “Rownie? A diminutive of Rowan, I believe. How very interesting.” He tipped his hat. “A pleasure. My own name is Thomas, and I have been the first actor of this troupe and of this city since before the walls and towers fell.” He picked up the discarded giant mask, setting it on Rownie’s shoulders. It was heavy. The paint on it smelled funny.

“Stand there,” the goblin whispered, pointing. “I will give you your lines from backstage.” He passed through the curtains. Rownie was alone in the center of the platform. He stood where he was supposed to stand, and turned around.

Faces watched him from the dark. Rownie could hear them murmuring and mumbling. He knew from the sound that some were worried, and others delighted, and all of them were sure that something awful was about to happen.

Rownie drew up his shoulders, pushed out his chest, and tried to be very tall. He was a giant. He was something awful. He was going to happen to somebody else.

The curtain whispered behind him. “What noise was that within my father’s house?”

Rownie roared. “What noise was that within my father’s house?”

“I smell trespassing blood,” the curtain went on. “Now show yourself.”

“I smell trespassing blood. Now show yourself!”

The goblin-hero jumped back onto the stage. “Hello!” he said. “I have heard boasting that giants can transform themselves into anything they please. I’ve come to see if that proud boast is true.”

“This truth will be the last you ever learn!” Rownie said, echoing the curtain behind him.

The goblin-hero laughed, but it was a frightened laugh. “It would be worth it. Can someone so tall transform into a small and unChanged boy?”

No lines or instructions came from behind the curtain.

Rownie took off the mask with one hand. He set it on the stage beside him, and then held out his arms as if to say Look at me! The chain clinked in his other hand.

“Well done!” the goblin-hero said. “You are small, now, though you still look fierce—”

Rownie grinned. He still felt fierce.

“—but I bet you cannot change into a bird.”

The lantern shutters snapped shut. The goblin tossed a paper bird in the air. At that same moment the front row of the crowd, spooked by the sudden darkness, pulled the iron chain and yanked Rownie forward. He tumbled off the edge of the stage.

He felt hands trying to catch him, but he fell through them, hit the ground, and rolled onto his back. He could see the glowing paper bird fly above the dark silhouettes of people standing around him. The bird exploded in sparks, and a cloud of paper feathers drifted down.

“One less giant!” said the goblin-hero from the stage.