Fudd sadly shook his head. He hoped the Goblins would find the pickles before they found any Brownies. He couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for what was happening.
Grissel grabbed Fudd by the arm. “Now you and I will teach the human king it’s not wise to trick Goblins.”
Grissel poofed himself and Fudd to a spot just outside the trees. From there they could see a large pile of pickle relish. Every Goblin from Flog was gathered around the pile, fighting for as many bites as they could get. Several of them were so busy clawing at each other that no Goblin could get any relish.
“They’re not trapped here at all,” Grissel said happily. “Your king doesn’t know as much about Goblins as I thought.”
“Maybe they’ll fill up on the pickle relish,” Fudd whispered. “They won’t be hungry for Brownies.”
“We’re always hungry for Brownies,” Grissel said, licking his lips with his crooked blue tongue.
Fudd didn’t like the sound of that, but he continued walking toward Elliot’s hiding place in the trees. Grissel followed closely behind him. Too close. Fudd walked faster. He thought he heard Grissel smelling him.
When they arrived in the woods, they found Elliot facing them, relaxing with his back against a large oak tree. He didn’t seem surprised to see them. He didn’t look afraid either, which worried Fudd. This was the point in the plan when Elliot should have begun to look terrified.
“You were the only one who knew where I’d be hiding,” Elliot said to Fudd. “And now you’ve brought the Goblin leader here to me.”
Fudd still tasted the lemon pie in his mouth, which was a little sourer now than he remembered. It had been a gift from Elliot, and he repaid that gift by bringing Grissel here. Rule number four in the Guidebook to Evil Plans clearly stated, “Never accept a gift of kindness from your mortal enemy” (page 12). Fudd had never really understood the meaning of that rule…until now. He kicked a foot in the dirt, ashamed of himself.
“You’ve been helping the Goblins try to get me,” Elliot added. “Why?”
Fudd’s lower lip quivered. Ever since he learned that Grissel would be eating his friends, he’d begun to think working with him wasn’t such a good idea. “This is all my fault. More than anything I wanted to be king, but I know now I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, I’m not sorry,” Grissel snarled, pushing his way past Fudd. “I still want to get rid of you, human. I already scared you half to death. It’s time to finish the job.”
Elliot smiled. “Better get close enough that I can see you this time.”
Grissel growled and took a step toward Elliot. Grissel’s foot landed on a rope that instantly went tight around his bony foot and pulled him up into the air. In a panic, Fudd stepped to the side and into another rope that yanked him up beside Grissel. They dangled upside down, their bodies swinging softly in midair. Fudd clasped his hands together and waited until his body turned to face Elliot, then said, “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
Elliot marched right up to Grissel and Fudd and said, “These are my dad’s traps. I’ve been in them myself, so I know you can’t get yourself free. If you’re both very good, I’ll let you out before my dad finds out and tries to have you for dinner. I order you both not to poof out of there. I order all Goblins not to poof away from here.”
“You think you can defeat me that easily?” Grissel said with a sneer. “Release me now or else.”
“Or else what?” Elliot asked.
Grissel pointed high up to a tree that stood over the pile of Goblins and the pickle relish. Two more Goblins had appeared there. Tied up in a rope dangling from their hands was Patches. If they let go of the rope, she would fall right onto the backs of the Goblins.
Grissel showed his jagged teeth as he laughed. “You’ve lost, little king. Release me now, or else they get your favorite Brownie for dessert!”
Elliot ran to where he could get a better look at Patches. The Goblins had tied the rope several times around her whole body. She wouldn’t be able to wiggle free on her own, and even if she did, there was nowhere she could go but down onto the pile of Goblins. Several had already smelled her and left the pickle pile to stand beneath her with their arms out. When her rope dropped, they wanted to be the first to get her.
“Help!” Patches cried. “Elliot, help me!”
“You have ten seconds before I order them to drop her,” Grissel hissed. “Eighteen!”
Elliot turned. “I have eighteen seconds?”
Grissel rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you hear me? Ten seconds. I didn’t say which ten. Now it’s seventeen!”
Mr. Willimaker ran to Elliot’s side and tugged on his shirt. “That’s my daughter. Please, Your Highness, we have to save her.”
“Can’t she just poof away?” Elliot asked.
“She’s Grissel’s prisoner. If he ordered her not to poof away, then she can’t. Just like Grissel can’t poof away from here until you allow it.”
“Sixteen!” Grissel said.
“Let me go up there,” Mr. Willimaker said, beginning to flap his hands nervously.