3. Goblin in the Fog

They all floated down to investigate. The mist here was heavier and stickier. It pulled at Rachel's wings as she flew through it. "Oh, it's not a goblin—it's just a dead tree." She sighed, landing on the thick twisted trunk. She felt disappointed. The dark shape had looked just like a goblin from the air. "We may not have found him yet," Kirsty whispered to her friend, "but I still think that the goblin isn't far away. The mist here smells musty, and it's harder to fly through." Rachel fluttered her shiny wings. "Yes," she agreed. "It's like cold oatmeal." Just then, they heard a gruff voice complaining nearby. "It's not fair! I'm cold and I'm lost and I'm hungry!" There was a loud sniff, like a pig snorting. "Poor me!"

Rachel, Kirsty, and Evie looked at one another in excitement. "That's definitely a goblin!" declared Evie. "Quick! Let's hide in that tree before he sees us," suggested Rachel. They flew up and landed on the branch of a huge oak tree, then peered down through the thick green leaves. Sure enough, the goblin sat on a log below them. They could see the top of his head and his huge bony feet. They could also hear a horrible gurgling sound, like slimy stuff going down a drain.

"Lost in this horrible forest! And I'm so hungry," moaned the goblin, clutching his rumbling tummy. "I'd love some toadstool stew and worm dumplings!" Suddenly he jumped up. "What was that? Who's there?" He peered up into the tree branches. Rachel, Kirsty, and Evie quickly darted behind the oak leaves. After a moment the goblin sat down on his log again. "Must have been a squirrel," he muttered. "Oh, I want to go home!"

The girls could see the goblin clearly now. He had bulging, crossed eyes and a big, lumpy nose like a potato. His arms were long and skinny but he had short legs and knobbly knees. "Look what he's holding!" whispered Evie. Kirsty and Rachel peered through the leaves and saw that the goblin clutched a beautiful silvery feather with a lilac tip in his fingers. "The Mist Feather!" the girls exclaimed together.

Then Rachel frowned. "If the goblin's lost in the fog, why doesn't he use the magic feather to get rid of it?" she asked. "Because he doesn't know how," Evie explained. "He's waving the feather all over the place without thinking—but he's only making more and more mist." It was true. The goblin was shaking the Mist Feather and mumbling to himself as thick swirls of fog drifted around him.

"Earwig fritters, beetle pancakes, lovely slug sandwiches…" he muttered wistfully. Just then, one of the runners passed close by. The goblin shot to his feet and hid behind a tree. He was shaking so much that the three friends could hear his knees knocking together. "It's a…it's a Pogwurzel!" he whispered in panic.