Book Eight: Chapter 16

Stepping out of her room, she heard the rustle of moving furniture, followed by guttural grumbling. Walking down the long hallway of the librarian’s living quarters, she saw a parade of rats in and out of the last room. She looked through the doorway and saw that Tink was lying in the room’s bed with a large plate of deli meats by her feet and a massive jar of pickles on her stomach. The goblin was grumbling to herself as she watched what appeared to be a home improvement show on a tv that had been installed on the wall.

“Stupid fucking dumb fucks,” she muttered, then grabbed the jar of pickles. Tink unscrewed the lid. “Angle flooring, make nicer fit.” She put the jar to her mouth and tipped the thing back, drinking a big mouthful of juice in her attempt to grab a pickle with her teeth. When she lowered the jar, she turned to look at Sofia, three pickles sticking out of her mouth.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Sofia stared in horror at the mess of wrappers and plates ar