Chapter Text
Ronnie waited impatiently as the second hand worked its way around the clock. Seconds seemed to last an eternity as the teacher droned on. The day was practically over, yet Mrs. Gates refused to let her class pack up early. One boy–Miles–had attempted to put away his books only to be yelled at by the strict literature teacher.
“Class will be dismissed when I say so,” Mrs. Gates had said before continuing to talk about the book they were being assigned.
Finally, the second hand reached its mark, and Ronnie bolted up. Mrs Gates was about to say something when the bell silenced her. The rest of the class was quick to leave, but Ronnie was the fastest.
She made it to her locker, quickly grabbing her bag and skateboard. Just as she was about to race out of the school, a familiar figure stepped in front of her. Collin was all long limbs and awkward laughs–the youngest of seven freckle-faced children. He grinned at her as she walked past him and made her way down the hall.
“Hey, Ronnie.” Collin caught up with her in two easy strides. “Blake and I are having some people over–do you think you’ll swing by?”
She glanced over at him and smirked. “As long as it’s not just me, you, and Blake. Invite some actual people this time?”
“Ouch.” Collin faked an expression of sorrow. “And I thought you liked hanging out with us.”
Ronnie groaned as she and Collin continued their walk through the school. “I mean, it’s fun, but all we ever do is play video games.”
“No,” he argued. “That one time we skated to Blake’s stepdad's place and lit shit on fire.”
“Oh, how could I ever forget?” She rolled her eyes.
“Ron, I do invite people,” he pressed on. “They just never show up.”
She gave him a long look. “Do you know how depressing that sounds?”
“Kinda,” he winced. “But maybe this time they’ll come. Becca said she’d be there. And you know who she hangs around with. If she can convince Ella and-”
“Collin, I can’t hang out tonight,” she sighed.
“Why not?”
Ronnie reached the end of the hall and stepped out of the open doors. Outside, the day was dreary and overcast. She had a feeling deep down that it would storm. She could practically smell the rain approaching. Hot, early-summer air made the humidity stick to her skin.
“I promised my mom I’d have dinner with her and… Christopher.” Ronnie couldn’t help but make a face of disgust as she said his name.
Collin laughed. “Oof, I didn’t know you two were getting so friendly. I thought you scared him off with the whole hiding-dead-fish-in-his-car thing.”
“No, that was Will. Christopher seems immune to my pranks,” she groaned as she walked down the steps of the school. “And now that school is over, he wants to bond with me.”
“Just ditch him.”
“I would, but…it’s for my mom. She’ll be there too and I…I don’t want to ditch her.”
“But you’re fine with sabotaging every relationship she’s ever had?”
Ronnie stopped walking only to shoot a scowl at Collin. “She’s not herself when she’s with them.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go meet up with Blake. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Fine, seeya later. Maybe I’ll come over tomorrow if it doesn’t rain–we could go to the skate park.”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
Ronnie took the long way home from school. That was her first mistake of the evening. With the thought of her upcoming dinner with Christopher and her mother’s warning to ‘play nice ’, she had a newfound rage in her gut. Instead of going straight back home, she took a detour through the backyard of an older neighborhood.
The neighborhood backed up to a drainage ditch that had recently been redone. What was once nothing but soggy ground and washout was now a smooth halfpipe. Whenever Ronnie felt particularly disgruntled about her current state, she would take the ‘long way ’, which included the drainage pipe.
Apart from the occasional pebble or stray branch, the pipe was smooth and perfect for her board. The act of doing something she loved helped to calm her frustrations. The sound of her wheels on the cement chased away all thoughts of Christopher and the nightmare of a night she would soon have.
The rain arrived sooner than Ronnie had anticipated. It made the cement slick and the road hard to see. On her way through the neighborhoods–back towards her house–she wiped out once on a hill she had gone down a million times. The embarrassment of falling was far worse than the little scrapes on her knee and elbow.
Ten minutes later, Ronnie arrived at her mother’s house drenched. Sarah stood on the front porch with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Ronnie could feel the argument before it even began.
“School got out over an hour ago,” her mother said. “Where have you been?”
“I was abducted by a man with a van and free candy,” Ronnie retorted.
Sarah raised a dark brow, displeased. “That is not funny.”
Ronnie said nothing as she walked up the porch steps and out of the rain.
“You’re soaking wet and–did you fall? Is that blood?”
“Mom, I’m fine.”
“Go inside and clean up. We’ll be having dinner in a couple of hours. You'd better pick out something nice to wear, and that attitude better be gone.”
Ronnie locked herself away in her room for as long as she could possibly manage. She heard her mother calling distantly to get ready, and later, she heard Christopher arrive. A murmur of conversation took place, but she was trying desperately to find a way out of going to dinner with her mother and her newest boyfriend.
“What kind of guy has a long-ass name like Christopher and doesn’t go by a nickname?” She asked her stuffed rabbit–Elrond.
The plush toy just stared back at her blankly.
“Exactly,” she continued on. “Like, at least he could go by Chris or something. And he treats mom like she’s…I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
The toy continued to stay silent–as toys typically did.
“But I can’t say anything.” She collapsed backwards onto her bed. “Mom says she really likes him and she wants me to ‘put in an effort’. But that’s just adult talk for ‘be someone else’.”
Ronnie gazed up at the plastic stars that covered her ceiling. She wondered if one were to become unstuck and come tumbling to the ground, could she wish on it?
“Oh, Elrond,” she sighed. “I really don’t want to go to this dinner. She says I have to wear something nice, but we’re only going down the road to that weird old lady restaurant.”
Elrond continued his silence.
“Yeah, I’ll just keep wearing what I’m wearing,” she concluded. “Who cares what I look like anyway?”
It was around seven in the evening when Ronnie got into the backseat of Christopher’s car. It wasn’t the kind of car designed for back-seat passengers. The front seat had to be moved forward just so that Ronnie could climb in. She was reminded of how much of an afterthought she felt.
Christopher–a middle-aged man with large teeth and thinning hair–had only greeted Ronnie with the barest of hellos. The drive to the restaurant was awkward. The conversation felt just as cramped as the backseat. When they finally arrived at the diner called The White Heron, Ronnie was just excited to get out of the car that smelled like spearmint gum and aftershave.
The rain was still pouring. Sarah and Christopher raced inside, but Ronnie lingered, gazing up at the large, dark clouds. Heavy drops of rain coated her hair and clothing. If it hadn’t been for her mother calling her name, she might have stayed out there longer.
“What are you thinking? You just got dried off,” Sarah hissed under her breath.
“It’s not cold,” Ronnie offered. “And those clouds look so-”
“Let’s hurry along; our reservation was for five minutes ago,” Christopher interrupted.
Ronnie hardly saw why five minutes mattered.
The White Heron smelt of homemade pasta sauce and stale smoke. While the restaurant no longer had a smoking section, cigarette smoke had permanently stained the stucco walls and the gaudy carpeted floors. It was busy with patrons ranging from young families to older couples. A group of old women sat in a corner booth, watching the room with the expressions of vultures. Two young children chased each other through the dining room, only to be yelled at by their mother.
Ronnie was reluctant to follow her mother and Christopher through the restaurant. All she wanted to do was go back home–or over to Collin’s place. Anywhere was better than being trapped in a booth with her mother and her mother’s boyfriend.
When they were seated, Christopher ordered them all water.
“Can’t I have a Dr. Pepper?” Ronnie asked as she played with the salt shaker.
“Soda is bad for your teeth,” Christopher said matter-of-factly.
“I didn’t realize you were so health-conscious,” she retorted.
“Ronnie,” her mother shot her a warning glance.
Ronnie glared down at the table.
The server returned with three glasses of water and asked if they had a chance to look over the menu. Christopher asked for a few more minutes, and Ronnie found herself wishing she could slip away to someplace else.
Food was ordered.
Christopher somehow had a say in what everyone was eating that night. While he allowed himself a full bowl of pasta, he told both Ronnie and Sarah that they shouldn’t order the largest serving. He even suggested that Sarah order a salad. Ronnie had to physically bite her tongue to keep herself from cursing at the old man.
The food arrived. As it was eaten, Sarah and Christopher had one of the most boring conversations Ronnie had ever heard. She tuned it out pretty early on. As she ate her chicken marinara, she gazed outside at the dark evening. Rain splattered against the windowpanes, and she imagined it was the stomping of tiny feet.
“You know that sound we hear–the rain on our rooftops?” Sarah leaned in conspiratorily, as if she was telling little Ronnie an important secret.
Ronnie, too young to start disbelieving her mother’s stories, listened carefully.
“Well, it’s not rain, at least not all of the time. Sometimes, it's goblins.” Sarah spoke with unabashed mysticism.
“Goblins? What do they want?”
“Usually nothing. Sometimes they visit to make sure I’m alright–to check on you, too.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because I asked them to check on you.”
“And they agreed? Why would they listen to you?”
“Well, because I’m their friend. And friends check up on each other.”
Ronnie returned to the current moment and shot a glance over at her mother. Not so long ago, Sarah had been filled with stories–with magic. She told Ronnie tales of goblins and mazes and heroes. “Wishes are serious business,” Sarah used to warn her.
Looking at her mother, Ronnie couldn’t help but wonder where that magical part of her mother had gone. She didn’t tell stories anymore. She didn’t talk about magic or fantastic creatures. Sarah woke early and prepared breakfast in silence. She went to work at a job she neither hated nor loved. Her fashion had faded from whimsical to plain.
“Tomorrow is the thirteenth,” Ronnie said, interrupting whatever boring story Christopher was telling.
“Why does that matter?” The old man asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was trying to explain to your mother why investing in-”
“It was my dad’s birthday.” Ronnie met his eyes.
“I see,” Christopher said slowly. It was clear that the topic of Silas was an uncomfortable one.
“And I think we should do something for it,” she pressed on.
“I…yeah, sure. Whatever you’d like.”
“But just me and my mom,” Ronnie continued.
“Ronnie.” Sarah looked over at her. “We can include-”
“No,” she nearly shouted. “We can’t. He’ll make it boring, and we need to celebrate Dad in a good way. Not with chicken marinara and stories about the stock market.”
“Ronnie!”
Ronnie stood up from the table, bumping into it as she did so. The dishes shifted two of the untouched water glasses toppled over. She didn’t wait for her mom to scold her further or for Christopher to overcome his tied tongue. She raced through the crowded restaurant and outside into the rain.
In an instant, her clothing was soaked through. Ronnie’s hair clung to her neck. There were no goblins dancing on the roof, only rain–endless rain. She stood in the middle of the parking lot, wondering what the hell she was doing there.
I shouldn’t have gone to dinner. I should have ditched it for Collin’s place. She thought to herself as she watched water flow across the pavement and into the gutters. The neon light of the ‘open’ sign created a reflection on the rainy lot, dancing as droplets hit it.
“What are you thinking?” Sarah practically shouted as she raced out into the parking lot. “That was incredibly rude of you to-”
“I. Don’t. Care.” She met her mother’s eyes.
“Well, you should.” She crossed her arms. “You don’t get to act like this just because-”
“Because what? Because your boyfriend is a boring piece of shit?”
“Veronica!”
“Or because Dad is dead?”
Sarah halted her side of the argument at the mention of Silas. A wave of sorrow passed over her elegant features. “Ronnie, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Ronnie hissed. “I wish you’d leave me alone!”
“Don’t,” Sarah warned.
Ronnie scoffed and rolled her eyes. Rain continued to pour from the heavens. Apparently, even the gods felt sorry for their broken family.
“Don’t what?” She asked.
“Don’t wish…for something like that,” Sarah said darkly.
“I don’t believe those childish stories. You…you don’t even believe them anymore.”
“I…it’s not about what I believe. You have to be careful what you wish-”
“I wish you’d leave me alone. I wish-”
“No.” Sarah grabbed her daughter's arm. “You take that back, right now.” There was real venom in her words, but Ronnie ignored it. She wrenched her arm out of her mother’s grip.
“I wish I didn’t have to deal with Christopher…or you!”
There was a pause. Sarah said nothing in reply. Instead, she looked around as if she were expecting someone to appear.
The Goblin King, Ronnie thought to herself. “You really still believe all of that?” She asked her mother.
“There are some things you don’t want to test,” Sarah replied carefully.
“Well,” she shrugged slowly. “Nothing happened. I’m going home.”
“Ronnie, you can’t just-”
“Leave me alone.” She turned and left the parking lot as quickly as she could.
The big, faded sign of The White Heron faded into the distance as she raced down the muddy streets.
It wasn’t long before Ronnie found herself back at the water drainage pipe. This time, it was half flooded with water. Fortunately, she wasn’t there to skate—she was there to be alone with her thoughts. Ronnie walked carefully along the edge of the drainage ditch, feeling sorry for herself.
“She’s not who she used to be,” she said as she kicked a small rock into the flowing water.
Rain continued to fall in heavy sheets. Ronnie shivered slightly at the chilly sensation of cold rain seeping into her hoodie. Despite the cold, she was in no mood to return to her house. She didn’t want to see Christopher’s stupid face or speak with her mother. The cold, rainy night was much preferred.
Ronnie wrapped her arms around herself and continued to walk.
Two hours passed before Ronnie returned home. When she did, the house was dark. She felt a mild irritation rise up at the thought of her mother going to bed comfortably after such a big fight. Was she up there fast asleep? Did Ronnie’s unhappiness matter to her at all?
After letting herself in, Ronnie entered the house with the overwhelming sensation that something was off. It was hard to pinpoint what it was that made it feel that way, but something was strange. The air held a sensation that she didn’t recognize. It was as if she had walked into the wrong house.
Ronnie crept through the familiar space quietly. She made it to her bedroom, where she quickly changed into a warm pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt. She shoved her feet into a pair of slippers with kittens on them and walked quietly towards her mother’s bedroom.
Ronnie took a deep breath before knocking gently on the door. There was no answer.
“Mom?” she said. “I’m back home.”
Again, there was no answer.
“Are you really ignoring me? Or was it that easy to fall asleep?”
Again, no answer.
Ronnie opened the door and stepped into the room. A small lamp was left on beside the bed, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow. The bed was unmade but also uninhabited.
“Mom?”
The window had been left open, curtains blowing softly in the breeze. Ronnie crossed the room to close it, only to freeze in the center of the room.
Materializing in front of the gauzy curtains was a man—a strange man with sparkling eyes and wild hair. He wore dark clothing that looked as though it was made of the night sky. He had a distinct otherworldly look to him that made Ronnie’s blood run cold.
“You must be Veronica,” he said in an accent she couldn’t quite place.
“Who…who are you? What the hell are you doing in my mom’s bedroom—in our house?” She clenched her hands into fists.
The stranger smirked, “I see you have your mother’s temper.”
“Where is she?” Despite every instinct in her body, Ronnie stepped closer to the man.
He let out a low chuckle. “She’s safe, for now.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing you didn’t ask for.” He raised a brow. “Even after all her warnings.”
“What? I didn’t…” Realization met Ronnie like cold water being poured over her head. “You…you’re the Goblin King.”
His eyes watched her steadily, but he said nothing to confirm or deny what she had claimed.
“You…you took her!”
“I believe it was you who wished her away,” he retorted.
“This can’t be real,” she said to herself. “This has to be a dream…this can’t be real.”
“Wishes are a powerful thing.” He stepped closer, dark robes glistening like stars. “You know, your mother is the only Mortal to have ever made it through my labyrinth. Do you think you’re as clever as she is?”
“Where did you take her?” Ronnie met his eyes. Anger had taken root in her gut along with something else. Something that felt a lot like dread.
“To my castle at the center of the Goblin City.”
“Let her go. I-”
“I don’t just let people go—not the ones who’ve been wished away. But,” he stepped closer. “If you’re able to reach her, I will return her to you.”
“How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know where the Goblin City is?”
The Goblin King raised one hand towards the window. In a sudden flash of light, the view changed.
What was once a dark and stormy night in the suburban sprawl of Ronnie’s neighborhood had been transformed. Now, out the window, Ronnie found herself looking at a bright and sunny day. In the distance, the silhouette of a castle sat against a brilliantly blue sky. It gleamed gold and silver in the hot sunshine. In front of the castle was a massive maze sprawling endlessly in every direction.
“How am I supposed to get through there?” Ronnie gasped.
The Goblin King looked down at her with a clear look of pleasure. He raised a brow and said, “I have no interest in giving the daughter of Sarah hints. If you fail to reach her, she will become mine—a part of the Goblin City.”