Chapter 44 The signal had not yet come, but the trap was already being set.

I scooted my hatchlings in close one last time, wrapping my frail, shaking arms around the small cluster of bruised little bodies. My eyes fluttered shut as I kissed each of their dirt-smeared faces, one by one, muttering quiet, warm words between sobs.

“Dada has to go now my precious little ones,” I whispered, nuzzling my face into the tangle of scrawny shoulders.

 “Just for a bit. I’m gonna fix this... I promise. Things will change. No more beatings. No more spiders. No more of the bad food or cold nights.” 

My voice cracked, barely more than a breath. 

“But right now... you gotta hide, little ones. Go into that old shed, the one with the broken roof. Stay out of sight. Stay quiet. Stay safe. Please. Please, be good gobies and stay out of gourds sight.”

The hatchlings let out pitiful squeaks and sniffles, their wide eyes glossy with tears. One of the smallest ones, a little runt with a missing ear and swollen cheek, clung to my leg.

 “But Dada... you just came back...”

“I know, my heart,” I choked out, my voice trembling.

 “But if I don’t go, I won’t be able to stay. We won’t ever be free. I need to talk to the Big Boss... just one last awful thing... then I’ll come back for you. I swear on all my toes.”

Another hatchling, slightly older and with a stitched-up gash across his shoulder, puffed up his tiny chest and tried to sound brave.

 “We’ll be good, Dada. We’ll hide like sneaky beetles. We do as you say. We will.”

“We’re smart gobies,” another added proudly, though his lip quivered.

 “We’ll listen. No trouble.”

I gave them one last squeeze, nuzzling them all in my arms like the precious little creatures they were. 

“That’s my hatchlings... my good, brave babies.”

They squealed softly, not in pain but in desperate love, and reluctantly released their father. Scampering off in a nervous huddle, they darted toward the shadowed remains of the broken shed. Before vanishing, the smallest one turned around and waved a tiny hand.

“Come back soon, Dada!”

I waved back, my hand shaking, tears quietly slipping down my cheeks.

 “I will... I will.”

I stood there for a long moment, breathing through the weight pressing down on my chest, until Lyn gently nudged my arm.

“You ready? The sooner we’re done with this Rakrak filth, the sooner you can hold them again. This place... it stinks worse than old rat stew.”

I sniffled and nodded, wiping my face.

 “Yes... let’s go.”

We turned toward the breeding farm's looming central tower — the twisted, shoddy structure of bones, planks, and cloth where Rakrak made his rotted nest. The ground was littered with broken tools and bloodied rags, and the air was thick with the stench of cruelty. Goblin guards loitered nearby, some squatting, others chewing on scraps of meat, their sunken eyes filled with suspicion and casual malice.

As we approached, the guards straightened, clutching their rusty spears and eyeing Lyn warily.

I immediately dropped to my knees, groveling so hard my forehead hit the dirt. I flung my arms wide and let my voice crack with fear and subservience.

“M-Masters! Great noble ones! I return with precious news, brought from the wilds! I beg you! Please, don’t strike me—I only carry word from a mighty Cat Folk tribe! This fine, sharp-toothed warrior—she is a messenger, sent to speak of an alliance! Master Rakrak himself sent me to find them, and I did! I did!”

The guards didn’t move at first. One narrowed his eyes. Another spit on me.

Lyn stood behind me with arms crossed, posture loose, letting the tension settle. Her gaze was calm, slightly angry, but razor-sharp.

I stayed bowed in the dirt, waiting for any sign I’d be allowed to continue breathing.

Finally, one of the guards grunted and thudded the butt of his spear on my hunched back.

 “Tch. Fine. Follow. But one wrong move, and I’m takin’ yer teeth.”

I winced but nodded fervently.

 “Of course, of course! Praise to the teeth-takers, glory to the spit!”

Lyn rolled her eyes behind him and muttered, “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

We were led past more scowling goblins, deeper into the foul heart of the camp, toward the shed where Rakrak ruled with his coward’s heart and forked tongue. The closer they got, the heavier the air became. Tortured cries and gurgling laughter echoed from behind rotting doors, and the shadow of Rakrak’s madness loomed above.

I gritted my teeth, stole one last glance toward the shed where my children were hiding, and whispered under my breath, “Hold on, my little ones. Papa’s almost done.”

The shed was crooked — stitched together from bones, jagged metal, and warped planks — like a tumor growing from the festering ground. My knees ached with every step up the ramp, the walls lined with yellowing skins and trophies from things better left unnamed. Lyn’s tail flicked behind her, every sense on alert, but she wore the same cocky grin she always had, like nothing could ever shake her.

Then, a door swung open, creaking like a scream through broken teeth. And there he was.

Rakrak.

Tall for a goblin, with too many rings in his ears and too many teeth in his mouth — some gold, some clearly not his. His eyes gleamed like poisoned lanterns, and his body was draped in tattered silks far too regal for the walking slime he truly was. He sat atop a throne of bones — some animal, some very much not — one leg slung over the side, a goblet in hand and a smug grin stretched across his leathery, green face.

“Well, well, well... look what the wind dragged in,” Rakrak said, voice syrupy with fake warmth.

 “My little scout... and a guest, no less. Well done! You came back with something!”

I dropped to the floor again, pressing my forehead to the moldy planks.

 “M-Master Rakrak... I-I have returned. As you ordered. I found them... the Cat Folk... and this one—this fine noble warrior—is their envoy. Lyn, of the cat people.”

Rakrak’s eyes slid lazily to Lyn. He gave her a slow, indulgent smile, lifting his goblet in mock toast.

 “A pleasure, truly. You must be quite brave, coming all this way with my... little helper here.”

Lyn didn’t answer. She just gave him a half-smile, a flick of her tail, and crossed her arms.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. I could feel something in the air — a tension that wasn’t coming from Lyn, but from Rakrak. Like something in the walls was watching them. Waiting.

Rakrak stood slowly, the silks around him slithering like worms. He stepped toward me, tilting his head with exaggerated curiosity. 

“Tell me, dear Hermit... how was the forest? I see you didn’t get eaten by cats or wolves or anything nasty, did you?”

“N-no, Master. I did exactly as ordered. I brought her here, just like you wanted. To discuss alliance... as you said.”

Rakrak gave a breathy chuckle and crouched low, placing a single long-nailed finger under my trembling chin and lifted my face to look at me.

 “Oh, I remember exactly what I said, dear Hermit. You did great, better than I expected. You brought me exactly what I needed. Cat folk blood in the flesh… and not just any! The daughter of the infamous Cat Boss himself. Yes, I know who she is.”

Lyn’s tail flicked once, her golden eyes sharp. She kept her arms crossed, her posture relaxed—but ready. Observant.

“I must say, I had my doubts about you, Hermit. You were always a bit too clever for your filth rank. But you proved yourself. Beautifully.”

I fidgeted, his lips dry.

 “I-I brought her… j-just like you asked, Master Rakrak. She’s here to speak. About… about an alliance.”

“Of course! Of course! I heard you the first time,” Rakrak said, with exaggerated delight, raising his clawed hands.

 “An alliance! Oh, such civilized matters we now discuss. So noble, so wise.”

His voice was syrupy and false.

Outside, unseen by the guests, movement stirred—clanking armor, boots on dirt, muffled grunts of goblin guards slinking into position. Dozens. The signal had not yet come, but the trap was already being set.

Rakrak smiled warmly—too warmly.

 “Please, take your ease. Let us talk peace. I want nothing more than to build a bond between our kin. And Hermit... look at you, practically a diplomat. Maybe you’re not such a pathetic worm after all.”

I dared a glance toward Lyn, who gave me the faintest nod—keep going, play along.

Rakrak continued, “So! Tell me, dear feline, what exactly does your father propose? Oh, and don’t leave out any details. After all… we’re all friends here.”

He smiled wider, his yellowed fangs catching the firelight. Outside, the guards waited. One word from Rakrak, and blood would flood the floor.

“My father believes that continued hostility benefits no one. He’s willing to discuss the terms of an alliance, one where both sides gain resources, security… and peace.”

Rakrak nodded slowly, stroking the jagged edge of one tusk with a claw.

 “Peace, such a delicate word… coming from cat folk, no less.”

I stood beside her, hands shaking slightly at my sides. Something felt… wrong. Too easy. Too eager.