"We have to free him," breathed Helen. One of the goblins stopped, pausing. I clamped my hand over her mouth, stifling another gasp. The goblin whispered to its companion, pointing directly at our tree.
Carrying a long bundle of spears and a bolt of thick cloth, he walked under the tree, raised a spear up high, and--
--plunged it into the dirt.
He did this four times, forming a large rectangle. Then he spread the cloth over the points to create a makeshift tent. The goblins were making camp. We wouldn't be able to budge an inch.

An hour later, at least a dozen tents had been made for the more important goblins in charge. Ha! General Goblin. I couldn't shake the notion out of my head. They chopped down several trees to set up several large fires throughout the camp, and at least twenty to sate the fiery trebuchet.
So we made our plan. When the goblins decided to tuck in, we would climb down the tree, sneak past the battlements, and free Andon, perhaps any other poor chap that happened to be chained to the trebuchet.
Within half an hour, every single goblin in the camp was snoring. Jared started down first, nimbly sliding down the smooth bark as furtively as possible. I followed second, and Helen third. Fallie decided to stay behind, since a larger group would have more a chance of getting caught.
The sluggishness was to the point of pain: at every step we took on the ground, a minute seemed to pass. Andon seemed farther and farther away the more steps we took. Finally we reached him.
He was sleeping in a sitting position, head hung over his knees, arms held at his sides.
"Andon." There must have been reason for those pointed ears: almost immediately he woke.
"Sam! What are you doing here?" he hissed.
"More importantly, what are YOU doing here?" I said. "What happened? Tell us everything."
Andon looked more devastated than ever.
"The goblins burnt down the city," he whispered bitterly. "They killed those to young or too old to pull their machine as well as the sick. We have not had food or rest since the battle, and those too wounded from the fight to carry on were immediately executed."
Helen sobbed. "Lan'lienn is gone?"
Andon nodded. "Yes," he said. "But the goblins are overconfident. They speak about their plans freely in front of us. They will attack, destroying every rebel city in Moronia they find. Naga has decided it is time for war--a civil war."
Jared gulped.
"I've always wondered why they call it a civil war," he said, musing to himself. "Because none of them are actually civil."
"But there is one weakness to the goblins," added Andon. "They are sluggish in sunlight. It blinds them, and gives them an awful smell, but they cannot fight the light as well as the dark. Now go, before you are discovered." That would explain how we so easily escaped them at the mountain...
"We're taking you with us," said Helen. Jared yanked a dirk from his belt and began to saw at Andon's chains. Andon jerked away, shaking his head.
"No," he said. "I can find out more. I can help you. Just go!"
"I can't do that," I hissed, yanking out my sword. "We're not leaving you here!"
"I'm sorry," whispered Andon, then he raised his chained hands and banged them together, producing a sound so loud it sounded like a roar in the still night.
Instantly the goblins retaliated. Dozens leapt up from their slumber and growled, hefting their spears, aimed to kill.
"RUN," yelled Andon. "Go!"
We did.
Fallie, get out of there! I yelled. We have to run! Find the centaurs! Just go! We'll meet you at the edge of the forest!
I heard her mutter a response and saw her leap from the tree, becoming a white eagle. I raced past the goblins, dodging weapons and bristly appendages. Looking up, I saw the brink of morning beginning to take flight.
I will never take morning for granted again, I told myself. Just please, please, hurry! Time seemed so lagging and gradual! For once in my life I wished for the morning to hurry up. And, for once in my life, my own life depended on it.
I could see grass peeking through chinks in the forest, realizing we were near the edge.
I could see the grass waving in the breeze, like a watery sea, every single russet blade greeting the morning. The clatter and shouting behind me grew, growing closer and closer. We were slowing down, and a cramp began to stab my side again. My healing wound felt like it had been ripped open all over again, and fiery pain shot up my chest.
Fallie swooped down, turning into a horse that galloped, but we had no time to mount her and let her carry us to safety. By the time one of us jumped on her back, the goblins would have us. They were that close, so tantalizingly near, that sweat streamed down my back and hot adrenaline pumped through my veins.
I was never good at PE. Always finishing last in every mile our class ran. But this was more than just a mile. It could very well be the last mile I would ever run.
By now I could smell the reek of the goblins' hot breath, hear them growl and huff as they imagined the reward Naga would bring them for our deaths, feel the dust from their stride blowing towards us to coat our calves in grit.
Fingers of yellow sunshine stretched out to grasp the sky. Now I could see clearly through the trees, seeing the tall grass wave to us. Sweat trickled down my neck, gluing my shirt to my back.
And then I saw: a trio of horses, gathering near the brink of the wood. Except, they weren't completely horses. From the withers on up, they had the heads and torsos of a person.
One, a female with a golden brown coat, held a long spear and threw it in our direction.
"Duck!" she thundered. We threw ourselves to the ground and I heard a sickening crunch as the spear found its target. The goblins howled as morning finally found its way. Sunlight streamed down and they staggered, but continued running.
Another spear flew over our heads as we desperately crawled, just to be farther away from the creatures.
An older, gray one with long wispy hair beckoned for us to join them.
"This is something we do not give Two-legs like you permission to do often," said a golden centaur. "But we will, this one time. Come. You may ride on our backs."
Helen took the one who spoke; Jared the wizened dapple-gray. I willingly climbed onto the back of the golden brown centaur.
So we rode.