“Who are you?” Elliot asked.
Mr. Willimaker bowed. “Forgive me, Your Highness—er, Your Elliot-ness, er, Elliot. This is Fudd Fartwick. He was the closest advisor to Queen Bipsy and will be your advisor now. He came with me to share some terrible news.”
Elliot sat on his bed beside the Brownies. “What news?”
“The Goblins are causing trouble again. They came into Burrowsville, the Brownie city.”
“Tell me about the Goblins,” Elliot said. “Why are they at war with you?”
“At war with us,” Fudd corrected. “If you’re the king, then they’re at war with you too.”
Elliot sighed. “Okay. Why are they at war with us?”
Mr. Willimaker coughed and then muttered, “It seems we taste good.”
“Huh?” Elliot asked.
“We taste good. To Goblins. And we’re not strong enough to fight back, so it’s very easy for them to come get one of us every now and then.”
Elliot leaned against his headboard. He would’ve leaned right into Fartwick’s poison dart, except Fartwick had already taken it back when Mr. Willimaker wasn’t looking. It was now stuffed into his pants, making it uncomfortable for him to sit. Not to mention sort of dangerous.
“I don’t know anything about Goblins,” Elliot said. “I don’t know how to fight them, and I don’t know how to help the Brownies win any war. I can’t be your king.”
“Good choice,” Fudd said, maybe a little too quickly. “You don’t want to mess with Goblins. They’re nasty creatures.”
“Will they hurt humans?”
Fudd shrugged. “The Goblins scared Queen Bipsy to death. I don’t know if they can scare humans to death or not, but I’m sure they’ll try. There is also perhaps the slightest possibility that they’ll blow you up. It’s a Goblin specialty. I assume you’re against that idea.”
Elliot was very much against the idea of being blown up. He liked all his body parts attached to him just the way they were. He wasn’t too fond of being scared to death either.
Fudd continued, “Besides, I’m sure we could find someone else who could do a much better job. Maybe a Brownie who’s already been a close advisor or something to someone important, like a queen.”
“Like you?” Mr. Willimaker said with a scowl.
Fudd angrily folded his arms. “You have to admit it’s very odd that Queen Bipsy chose a human to replace her when she could have picked me. She must have lost her senses before she died.”
“Her senses were working fine,” Mr. Willimaker insisted.
“I want to know more about the Goblins,” Elliot said.
Mr. Willimaker slowly shook his head. “There’s something I haven’t told you about the Goblins coming to Burrowsville. They took my daughter, Patches, with them. I think it’s because she knows more about humans than anyone else in the Underworld. I need your help to get her home.”
“Your daughter must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Fudd grumbled. “Where was she? Somewhere dangerous, no doubt.”
“In school,” Mr. Willimaker said.
“Aha!” Fudd exclaimed. “What sort of loving father would send his child to school? You might as well have sent Patches to try her luck in Demon Territory.”
“Will the Goblins hurt her?” Elliot asked.
“I sent them a large jar of pickles. Goblins love pickles, the only thing they like more than us. I hope they’ll eat the pickles instead of Patches.” Mr. Willimaker’s lower lip trembled a little, and then he placed his chubby hand on Elliot’s arm. “It doesn’t matter how you became king. The important thing is that we need you and that if you don’t help us, we will lose.” He lifted the corner of a blanket to reveal something that looked like a wide and pointy gold bracelet. It was a crown. Several oval jewels were set around the base with a fat ruby in the center. “Will you accept the job?”
Elliot smiled and picked up the crown. It was too small for his head, so he held it between his fingers and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Willimaker. I am Elliot Penster, and as of today, I am king of the Brownies.”
Dear Reader, being the smart person you are to have read so far into this book, I’m certain that you enjoy every minute of your day at school. However, you might have one or two friends who sometimes complain that school is boring. You might tell them that even though they get bored at times, it happens to be much better than being carried away from school into the Goblin city of Flog, like Patches Willimaker was.
Patches had spent the rest of her day in a very deep hole that was made of rock, so she could not tunnel through it. The hole had a dirt floor that was so hard she couldn’t write her will into it with her finger, and no windows, so the only thing to look at was rock. Although even if there were a window, it would still only show her more rock. Patches had tried to poof away several times, even though Grissel had ordered her not to. Since she was Grissel’s prisoner, she should have known poofing wouldn’t work.