The forest clearing watched, silent and startled, as the human messenger stepped forward into the firelight. "Goblin!" he called. The little creature looked up at him from where it squatted by the fire. "Comes a guest to my fireside?" It bounced to its feet and scuttled forward, pausing just over an arm's length from him. "What would you, O man? More straw spun to gold? Silver carved from acorn shells? Pearls plucked from a lily's ear?" The messenger went down to one knee, putting himself on the goblin's eye level. "I come to ask your mercy, goblin, and to adjure you -- give up your claim on the queen's child." It sat down on its heels and looked up at him, eyes bright. "The queen's babe is mine, by her own word. What is our bargain to you?" "The birth was hard on her," he said, desperately. "She'll not survive another childbed, and my lord will go mad with grief, she and his son both gone -- O goblin, goblin, can you not find some other babe?" The wight rocked back and forth on its heels, humming to itself. "A bargain we made, O man, a bargain," it crooned. "Spin straw into gold, surely, with naught but a small gift in exchange for each night's work. A necklace she gave me, and a ring she gave me, and the promise of her firstborn she gave me. The queen has given her word." "The queen is a silly chit," the man snapped. "But when was silliness ever so cruelly punished? And what has the king done to you, goblin, that you should steal his child?" The little creature spread its hands. "A bargain, O man. And it's glad enough of the gold your king was." The messenger's breath hissed in his teeth. "Aye, glad of the gold he was, and do you know why, goblin? Because he thought the girl had spun it. She was faerie-touched, he said, and her children would have faerie luck -- and they'd be strong and healthy and maybe he'd be able to forget his other bride, so frail that his first child killed her. And now you'll take away this child too...." He trailed off. The goblin had stopped rocking and was looking at him intently. "You would not have this king suffer pain, O man? What is he to you?" "He is my king," the man said around a hoarseness in his throat. "I am pledged to him." "And his grief would cause you grief?" He wet his lips, nodded. "But there is still the bargain, O man," the wight crowed, and sprang to the lowest-hanging tree branch, where it swung by one hand and tilted its head to look at him. "The bargain, and a sworn word holds us. The babe I will have, the lovely babe, the fine sweet bonny babe, if the queen can not tell me my name." The messenger looked at the goblin for a long moment; the goblin hummed to itself and swung from the branch. "What if someone else tells her your name?" A mirthless grin. "Then my name she has, and the babe she keeps." Another moment went by in silence. "What if you tell me your name," he said at last. "What price, O man?" The goblin's smile dropped away, and its eyes were large and dark and in no way human. "What will you offer in trade for my name? What price the only child of a king?" The messenger stared into the goblin's eyes. "She must not know of the trade." One bony shoulder lifted in a shrug. "You will tell her whatever you will tell her, O man, and I will tell her nothing more. What price?" Another pause, and the forest held its breath. "What would you have?" * * * * * The creature stared at the queen for a moment, then shrieked in fury. "Some witch told you! Some witch told you!" It stamped its foot once, and vanished in a cloud of evil-smelling smoke. The young queen began to laugh and weep simultaneously, hugging her baby close to her chest and rocking back and forth. Around her, the courtiers cheered their queen's good fortune, and merry music struck up from the minstrels' balcony. And the king, his hands still trembling in reaction, caught his wife and child in a fierce embrace, tears of relief staining his beard. No one noticed the one silent man who slipped from the throne room. No one challenged him as he made his way to the servants' door. No one else saw the small figure who waited for him outside, sitting on its heels and grinning. "The price comes due, O man," it told him. "I know," he said very quietly. "A bargain we had. A bargain."