Last Goblin Exclusive — The

“I remember,” Snikk whispered. His voice was like dry leaves skittering on stone. “I remember the taste of coal smoke and the smell of wet dog. I remember how to tie a knot in a horse’s tail and how to make a candle burn blue. I remember the old game where you swap the salt for the sugar.”

Snikk sat there until the moon began to set. Then he did a thing no goblin had ever done. He picked up the broken bell, and with a gentleness that surprised even himself, he placed it on the step of the smithy. He did not take anything. He did not tie a knot. He did not curse. the last goblin

And if you walk into the deep wood on a quiet night, when the wind holds its breath and the moon is only a sliver, you might see him. A small, gnarled shape sitting on a mossy stone. He will not speak. He will not move. “I remember,” Snikk whispered