Riddle in Stone (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book One) by Robert Evert

his stomach and twisting, he thrust himself through the narrow opening with a loud grunt. He beamed at his feat.
    Squeezing through a doorway wouldn’t be such an accomplishment if you weren’t so fat.
    The way I’m losing weight, I’ll soon be thinner than anybody in Rood! In fact, by the time I get to Eryn Mas, I’ll be even as muscular as that storytell—
    “Well, well,” said a soft voice from behind Edmund, “look what we have here, Mr. Gurding.”
    His grin vanishing, Edmund’s heart skipped several beats.
    Stiff with fear, he forced his reluctant body to turn.
    Behind him were two disheveled figures dressed in the baggy beggars’ garb of brown canvas. They were small, even compared to Edmund; their hunched backs made them appear the height of boys in their early teens. Under their oversized hoods, Edmund detected a hint of sickly white faces.
    Monks? Here?
    Relaxing, Edmund smiled. The two figures smiled in return, revealing many pointed yellow teeth.
    He stepped back, his damp skin turning cold. “Goblins!”
    “Oh,” the first goblin said, disappointed. “We don’t particularly care for that name, do we, Mr. Gurding?”
    Producing a long knife from the interior folds of his patched robe, the other goblin shook his head. “No indeed, Mr. Kravel,” he said quietly. “It makes me angry simply hearing it.”
    The one called Mr. Kravel took a step toward Edmund. “You see, the term ‘goblin’ is a bastardization of the word ‘gobel,’ which means ‘children of Gob,’ the evil guardian of the nether regions—in case you weren’t aware.”
    “We’re not children,” Gurding added in a low, menacing voice.
    “Well said, Mr. Gurding.” Kravel took another step toward Edmund, all the while cautiously scanning the rest of the empty room. “Nor are we evil. You see, evil isn’t a force of nature. It isn’t as if an entire race of beings can be . . . ”
    Gurding interrupted in a whisper. “Perhaps we should take care of other matters first before you continue?” He signaled to the secret door through which Edmund had just pushed himself.
    “Right you are, Mr. Gurding. Right you are.” Drawing a knife from underneath his robes, Kravel stalked to the edge of the doorway. “If you would be so kind, please tell the rest of your party to step into the light of your lantern. We’d dearly love to meet them.”
    Edmund finally managed to swallow. “I-I-I-I,” he began.
    Kravel pursed his lips. “Oh, that won’t do. That won’t do at all, I’m afraid. Please, comply with my request so that we can proceed to the next stage of this joyous event.”
    Edmund swallowed again, opened his mouth, tried to speak and swallowed a third time. Knife in hand, Gurding came closer.
    “I-I-I-I-I’m,” Edmund stuttered and then forced the words out of his lungs in great bursts. “Alone! I-I-I-I’m . . . alone. I’m alone. Alone. Alone.”
    Kravel tutted. “You are making things difficult for yourself. Mr. Gurding, could you please compel our new friend to comply with my previously stated instructions?”
    “Certainly, Mr. Kravel.” Fingering his knife, Gurding strolled toward Edmund.
    “Alone!” Edmund croaked, backing away from Gurding.
    “You disappoint me.” Kravel frowned. “Why, only a few moments ago, both Mr. Gurding and I heard you speaking to the rest of your party. But no matter. We’ll extract them from their hiding spot momentarily.”
    Like a butcher entering a pig’s sty, Kravel took off his cloak, revealing a squat body with brawny arms reaching nearly to the floor. He folded the cloak into a neat square and set it on the ground by his feet. Drawing a scimitar from his belt, he contemplated which hand should hold it, and which should hold his knife.
    Gurding continued striding toward Edmund.
    Edmund retreated, but found that the space available to him was rapidly diminishing.
    Run to that hallway!
    How? I’d have to get past them first!
    Do something!
    “A-a-a-a,” Edmund