Page 50 of Casting Butterflies

With her death being witnessed, the hallway emptied in the space of a few panicked breaths. People rushed to their cabins, which offered a semblance of safety.

Not me. I remained, as did one fellow with a thick chest and impressive beard.

The goblin barreled toward the man, who planted himself in the middle of the hall. With his size, he could have knocked the goblin out. Grabbed it in a choke hold. Even punted it.

However, the goblin must have been slippery to grip because the guy reached but didn’t manage to get a proper hold. The goblin easily wriggled out of the man’s grasp, and while I couldn’t see what happened next, given the dude hit the floor howling and holding his crotch, I could easily guess what body part it attacked.

With the man down, that left only me. The goblin pumped its stubby legs, heading in my direction, jaw wide open, drooling, eyes alight with excitement. I stood there gaping and weaponless, as usual. I really should have invested in a frying pan while shopping in Paris. Since bare-handed fighting would get me killed, that left me only one option. Magic. With only a split-second to decide how to use it, I said the first stupid thing that came to mind.

“Off with its head!” I channeled my inner Queen of the Hearts, flinging out my hand, visualizing what I wanted, and holy shit, it worked!

As if sliced by an invisible blade, the goblin’s head toppled from its shoulders and hit the floor and rolled until it hit a wall. The body advanced a few more paces before collapsing. It didn’t dissolve into smoke like the pernicae but rather gushed a fluid that had to be its blood onto the floor, making it neither an illusion, nor a magical construct. Good to know.

Apparently, my epic feat didn’t go unnoticed. A woman wailed, and I whirled to see her looking out from her cabin, clutching a cross around her neck.

I offered her a smile. “It’s okay. I killed it.”

Wrong answer, since she pointed at me and hollered, “Diabel!” which sounded close enough to diablo, AKA devil, that I got the picture. So much for her being grateful.

I might have huffed and retorted indignantly. However, the goblin I decapitated turned out to only be the first of the invaders. Two more appeared at the exit behind the woman. My witchy sense had me glancing over my shoulder to see three more coming through the other open egress. To make things even more fun—also known as Kegel-clenching tight—one of the cabin doors rattled before it slid open, disgorging a screaming and bleeding man who tried with no luck to remove the goblin latched onto him.

Goblins to the front of me. Goblins to the back. And I was stuck in the middle and screwed.

I couldn’t exactly send out a radiating off-with-their-head command, seeing as how it might decapitate the people in the cabins as well. What could I do?

Was our train car the only one attacked? Were these monsters here for me and the other passengers just happened to be in the way? If that were the case, then the smartest—and most selfless thing—I could do would be to remove myself, which meant running the gauntlet.

Knowing I wouldn’t make it outside without getting clawed or chomped on gave me an idea.

“Everyone and everything alive in this train car needs to cease moving right now,” I hollered, clenching my fists, squinting and pushing hard. Please don’t let anyone take a picture while it looked like I tried to have a shit.

The abrupt silence indicated it worked. A glance showed monsters and people frozen in place. Kind of freaky, given the wide terrified eyes of the man being mauled. How long would it last? Who the fuck knew? I wouldn’t be sticking around to find out. I took off running down the hall, dodging the rigid people and goblins until I reached the exit, took a deep breath, and plunged outside.

It was darker than expected. The air chilly and also noisy. Unlike the pernicae, the goblins proved vocal. Grunting. Hooting. Yipping. But what did they hope to accomplish? Did they suddenly see the train and decide to attack? The magic Misha and I sensed made that seem unlikely. However, unlike the pernicae, these monsters didn’t make a beeline for me, and the screams of those being murdered indicated anyone could be a victim.

“What are you doing outside by yourself?” Cedric chastised, suddenly appearing in front of me, tailing flicking with agitation.

“Misha left to check out what was happening, and goblins swarmed the rail car.”

“They’re everywhere. Nasty pests.”

“Where did they come from?”

“A rift farther ahead appears to be their point of origin. When it formed, it collapsed a section of track, swallowing the engine and first few cars.” Guess that explained our abrupt halt.

“Where’s Misha?”

“Trying to find a way to stem the flow of creatures emerging from the hole.”

“By himself? That’s suicide.”

“For a normal person maybe, but the elf is gifted, despite not having much magic,” Cedric grudgingly conceded.

“But he’s just one person. He can’t fight them all, and I doubt he’s got a backhoe or a cement truck to fill in this hole that’s letting them out.”

“He’s working on unlatching the car still attached to those dangling, hoping a sudden plummet by so much weight will cause a cave-in.”

“And if that doesn’t work, then what?”