The Old One was curled up on a stone plinth that had seemed to be raised ten feet or more in the air when we started across the floor, but now was no more than a low ledge that a human or Goblin could comfortably have sat upon. The stone seemed to have formed itself to the Old One's shape, with depressions moulded to his legs and belly. His wings were folded and his tail was curled around his body in the manner of a sleeping cat. Perhaps he was trying to minimise his true bulk to avoid frightening the visitors overmuch. I wasn't sure it was working.

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the susserations of four creatures breathing. Three of them sounded just a bit scared. The Old One cast his yellow unblinking eyes over us three before speaking again.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he began, "Let me proffer my apologies at the abrupt way I transported you here. I trust you are not unduly alarmed."

There was a pause, as if an answer was expected. I glanced around then nodded cautiously, responding for us all.

"Please, sit down. I mean you no harm."

I looked behind me. Three blocks of stone - no, three stone chairs - had silently extruded themselves from the floor. Stone chairs of differing shapes and sizes, tailored to the needs of two humans and a large Goblin, chairs shaped to conform to our individual contours. They were also, I would shortly discover, extremely comfortable.

"I am sure you would have escaped those who would have harmed you," the Old One resumed when we were all seated, "But the opportunity to intercede was too fortuitous to ignore."

The Old One snorted as if in amusement.

"You are doubtlessly wondering why I - indeed, we - brought you here."

I had been wondering on this exact question. The Old Ones do not generally interest themselves in the undertakings of Goblins - or anybody else for that matter. I thought it prudent to speak my answer aloud.

"Yes, Old One," I said, trying to project undertones of polite civility into every syllable, "I am. I'm sure we all are."

The vast head nodded very slightly.

"We have long been aware of the actions and motivations of another of your kind," the Old One intoned, a touch of steel entering his voice, "A wily old Goblin with diverse interests and obscure knowledge in arcane areas. One who is familiar to you."

"Professor Urquhart Garrick," I burst out, unable to contain my reaction.

"That would be one of his names, yes," came the cold reply, then with added subsonics for emphasis, "And he must be stopped."

I was dumb-struck for a moment.

"You're interested in Garrick?" I exploded, "What in all the Hells for?"

There was another distinct pause: quite enough time for me to thoroughly worry about opening my mouth in quite so uninhibited a fashion.

"We are interested, yes," the old One concurred coolly, "Garrick's plans remain opaque to us, at least partially. This in itself is a distressing situation since we are usually able to perceive the ebb and flow of events in the Upper Levels without difficulty."

"So he is hiding something," I muttered, "Even from you."

"So we find ourselves in the position where we need your help," he added, ignoring my remarks, "Help from all of you."

It seemed that I had suddenly acquired yet another client, one that I had never heard of engaging the services of a Private Investigator, even a Goblin one. And I was sure that Gumshoe had never had such a strange customer for his services either. Whether we'd ever get any kind of payment, and even what form it might take, was a moot point. On the other hand, being owed a favour by the Old Ones was probably worth a lot to a Goblin in my position, one way or another.

"I would be honoured to give any assistance I can," I replied formally, "Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us what you do know about Garrick and his associates."

The Old One sighed and contrived to look faintly embarrassed, if that were truly possible.

"We believe he is attempting to steal our secrets, our magical lore," he said, "He may even have succeeded."

Part 74

Part 76