The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [31]
“Third question,” I shouted. The howling stopped. “Where is the mirror now?”
The goblin showed me its teeth. They were long, black, and pointy. “Not here.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.”
The goblin grinned wider. “It’s the only one you’re going to get. Homewrecker.”
“Fine.” I stood up. “If you don’t want those beads, I don’t care. And I can live without your forgiveness.”
“Can you?” The goblin leered at me.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m under the protection of the Green Lady of Central Park, after all. If you hurt me, you’ll have a lot more to howl about than some stupid glass beads.”
The goblin writhed unhappily. “Oh, all right. I gave the mirror to a dwarf. They’re digging up Riverside Drive, apparently. A few days ago, one of them came up here to . . . comment on my howling. He took a fancy to the mirror and we made a deal. He wouldn’t push my face in, and I’d give him the mirror and keep the howling down during working hours. He said he was dating a swan maiden at Lincoln Center, and thought she’d like it. And that’s all I know.
“Now, about those beads . . .”
The last thing I wanted to do was go chasing a marsh nymph all over a swamp. A bargain’s a bargain, but I suspected I could fudge this one, just a little. All I needed to do was display a little creative diplomacy, otherwise known as lying. “I’ve heard about those glass beads,” I said thoughtfully. “They have a special magic that will be broken if a mortal touches them. However,” I said as the goblin began to growl, “I have a plan so you can win them for yourself.”
The goblin stopped growling.
“Okay, here’s the plan. Challenge the nymph to the Riddle Game. I’ll give you a riddle, a new riddle, a riddle that nobody in the Green Places has ever heard before. You can win the green glass beads, plus prove you’re smarter than the nymph. It’s way better than if I did it for you.”
The goblin shot me a suspicious look. “A new riddle?”
“I made it up myself.”
“It’s not one of those bogus riddles that don’t have a real answer, is it? Because if it is, I’m not interested.”
“It has a real answer.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
The goblin thought this over, then nodded. “Fair enough. Come whisper the riddle in my ear. I’ve met Rumplestiltskin. I don’t want anybody overhearing and telling the nymph before I see her.”
My heart thumped as I leaned close to its bat-wing ear to whisper the riddle I’d stumped the Mermaid Queen with.
“A cat?” it asked. “Are you sure?”
“It’s my riddle,” I said.
The goblin shook its head. “I hope this works. I’m getting tired of all this howling.”
“So why don’t you just stop?”
“I promised the nymph I’d lie in the reeds and howl until she gave me the beads,” it said. “I’m a goblin of my word.”
Chapter 10
RULE 333: STUDENTS MUST NOT ALLOW THEIR TEMPERS TO OVERCOME THEIR COMMON SENSE.
Miss Van Loon’s Big Book of Rules
The next day, I could hardly wait for lunch so I could talk to my friends about my conversation with the goblin. Astris hadn’t been that interested. (“How clever of you, pet. Now, what would you like for dinner?”) I wanted praise. I wanted sympathy. I wanted more information about Lincoln Center.
I’d asked Astris, of course, as soon as I got home. She knew that Lincoln Center was on Broadway, just north of the Theater District, and that its Genius was the Artistic Director. He wore white tie and tails and a white mask over his one eye. And that was it.
Of course, I hadn’t known much about any of the Neighborhoods I’d quested in last summer, either, and I’d done just fine. With a lot of help and even more luck. Not to mention my fairy twin, Changeling, who could use the Mermaid Queen’s Magic Mirror probably just as well as the Queen herself. Once Changeling got over thinking New York Between was a dream and freaking out every time something surprised her, we’d made a great team. Now she was back in New York Outside, learning