“It will be all right, sweetie,” someone else said. “Just try to hold it together. We’ll be okay.”

A woman’s voice, saccharine-sweet. That had to be Donna Peterson. He tried to stop. He gulped audibly, and for a second there was silence. Then the whimpering began to leak out of him again, like air from a balloon, and he started again.

“I know it’s scary,” Donna said. “But we’ll be okay.”

It sounded like they were alone — or at least, like the goblin was asleep. Alana waited. She knew not to rush into a creature’s lair without checking first. She wasn’t ten anymore.

The scent of the goblin was all around her, but at least it wasn’t as rank, wasn’t clogging her nostrils with its stink. And there was no sound of its footsteps, or its oversized jaws working as it chewed. Most important, the sword was not throbbing with light.

It wasn’t here. The Petersons were alone.

Alana scurried forward, and found a cave where she could stand up easily. Holding up the sword, Alana could see four figures hanging from the ceiling by ropes woven from plastic bags scavenged from garbage cans and recycling bins. The Petersons turned and looked at her with equal parts fear and hope.

“Oh thank God, thank God, thank God,” Steve Peterson said. Then he looked confused. “Wait, is it just you? Who are you?”

“Explanations later,” Alana said, stepping forward and slicing at the strands holding him. He fell to the floor of the cave. “Come on. Help me with the others.”

He didn’t argue. Alana moved to Noah and cut him down first. He collapsed onto the floor, weeping.

“Dammit,” his mother snapped. “Get up! Get up and get me out of this!”

Noah looked up at her, hurt and betrayal on his face.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, the sugar back in her voice. “I’m so sorry. I’m just scared. Please. Help me.”

Alana stepped between him and his mom.

“Help your dad with your brother,” she told him. “Hurry.”

He went over to Steve and began pulling at the strands that kept his brother captive. Alana stepped over to Donna.

“Well?” she said. “Are you going to get me down or just stare at me?”

Alana didn’t respond. She held up her sword, bringing it closer to Donna.

It glowed brighter. Donna winced as if the light burned.

“Go,” she told Steve and the boys. “The tunnel leads back to your house. We’ll be right behind you.”

Steve hesitated, unwilling to leave his wife.

“You need to go now if you want your sons to live.” Alana pointed the sword at him, and that was enough. He began shoving the boys into the tunnel, and left behind them.

As soon as they were gone, Donna said, “That fucker.”