The tremor from a distant explosion rippled through the ground beneath my feet. Somewhere nearby, a frightened dog yapped.

  My domain surged outward and my mind followed, racing everywhere at once... but everywhere was the same. The same sinister view, no light, no voices, no humans. Incredible how empty and depressing a block of flats is if devoid of humans.

  I’d thought it would be impossible to operate with such a large domain, that I would have to focus on small sections at a time. But apparently my mind had received an upgrade as well. I could sweep over the whole area in a single pass, and I found nothing of relevance. Or rather, the same disturbing thing everywhere.

  Stray cats and dogs wandered about. Dead fish floated belly-up in an aquarium on an upper floor. Dry plants, some dead some barely hanging to life, slumped in many rooms. Broken windows here and there, shattered doors, clothes and books strewn across floors, broken furniture, broken dishes, spoiled food. In a kitchen upstairs, a pot still sat on a lit gas burner, the flame hissing steadily. Whatever had been inside was long carbonized, reduced to a stubborn black crust.

  What on Earth had happened here?

  My thoughts spun into overdrive. Had this - whatever this was - struck only this town? The whole country?

  The whole Earth?

  I slipped into shadows and raced outside the building, inspecting the area as I moved.

  The sky was gray, with only dimmed sunlight filtering through the low cloud cover. The streets were deserted, cars abandoned randomly, trash scattered across the pavement. Here and there, burned-out husks blocked the road. Many car doors stood open and shattered car windows glittered on the ground. A band of stray dogs rummaged through overturned trash cans.

  A flock of crows suddenly burst into the air and I froze surprised.

  Goblins?

  I halted for a moment to observe them. A gang of about fifteen goblins was moving slowly down the street, chatting noisily in their half-gesture, half-grunt language as they pushed carts—some of them supermarket carts, partially filled with all kinds of items. Scavengers? Maybe… but they were unusually organized for a goblin band. They weren’t grabbing things at random; there was a clear structure to what they were collecting.

  All of them were low level, the highest maybe five or six.

  I decided to follow them for a while, out of curiosity, and then I spotted two humans, a young pair about my age, maybe a little older, sneaking between two houses.

  I grinned, as much as anyone can grin in shadowform: Now this is my opportunity to find out what happened here.

  My shadows slipped ahead and gathered in the next house the two were approaching. They were clearly aware of the goblins and were hurrying to hide inside.

  As I materialized in the living room, I wondered what the best approach would be.

  I chuckled to myself: probably the damsel in distress. That works almost every time. I’d pretend to know nothing and let them explain everything to me.

  I cast an innocent girl’s skin illusion to cover my scales, along with a simple colorful - but dirty - T-shirt and short pants, and I hid my horns. I left my feet bare; it added to the fragile, vulnerable image I wanted to project. For a moment I admired my manicured hands and smooth skin: such a strange sensation, to feel so human again, then realized the mistake and redid them to look scratched and dirty. I added dark circles under my eyes. After a quick inspection in the mirror, I nodded, satisfied.

  Then I dismissed the mirror, hugged my knees to my chest, and began to sob softly.

  Well… softly enough to sound helpless, and loud enough to make sure they heard me.

  As they entered the house, I kept whining and sobbing in my corner. For a moment I feared they might simply leave and skip the place entirely. They stopped in the entry hallway, whispering in low, tense voices, clearly debating just that.

  Now really! What kind of world was this, where people tried to ignore a poor soul in need? A damsel in distress, no less!

  I sobbed and sniffled a bit louder, and that finally did it. They stepped into the room and looked at me. After a few seconds of hesitation and a brief exchange, they came closer.

  “It’s a trap,” the girl muttered.

  The boy only clicked his tongue and crouched in front of me. He touched my forehead, and I lifted my gaze just enough to meet his eyes, moving my head slightly to avoid his fingers touching my horns, then started crying even harder.

  “Now, now,” he said gently. “It’s all right. Nobody is going to harm you. Don’t be afraid.”

  “Make the bitch shut up,” the girl snapped, still keeping her distance.

  He wrapped his right arm around my shoulders and pressed a finger from his left hand to his lips.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Shh.”

  She hissed in irritation, eyeing me with distrust. I gave her my most submissive, innocent puppy-eyed look, and even she seemed to ease a little.

  I had to hide a tiny, triumphant grins: I was getting better at this.

  They peeked through the windows from behind a curtain to watch the goblin group. A few giant wasps were circling above the goblins—drones, they called them—and they were clearly terrified the creatures might spot us.

  I learned their names: Sean and Nora. Both had brown eyes and dark hair, hers a glossy raven black. They were dressed in camo, almost military uniforms, though she wore a thick sweater over hers. She must have been sweating under it; it was a warm summer day.

  “We shouldn’t stay here,” Sean finally said, glancing again toward the goblin band. “Those bastards are getting closer. They might check this house too.”

  Nora stepped back to look through the window again, and hit a vase with her elbow. Sean lunged to catch it, only to bat it farther away and into another vase.

  The owners of this house must have been collectors of every kind of porcelain imaginable; dozens of vases and other glass and ceramic ornaments filled the living room.

  His desperate attempt to save them only made things worse. A whole rack teetered, wobbled… and then a dozen vases of various shapes and sizes came crashing down.

  I was under great strain to suppress explosive laughter, burying my face in my arms, desperately biting my lips as my shoulders shook under the pretense of sobbing.

  Nora looked ready to bolt immediately, but Sean caught her and held her still. They both froze, his arm tight around her, his eyes flicking anxiously toward the approaching goblin group.

  The goblins had come within less than a hundred meters. Several of them raised their heads at the sound of the crashing vases and turned toward the house. A handful began walking straight in our direction.

  I wondered what I should do to avoid killing them. I could have blasted the whole group away with a single thought… but why commit such a barbarous act? And besides, that would definitely ruin my image of “damsel in distress.”

  One goblin, who seemed to be the chief of the troop, lifted his head and sniffed the air. He quacked something in their guttural language, and the whole group halted, looking around in confusion.

  I quickly conjured the image of a black cat darting away, meowing in terror as if scared by the commotion. Sean and Nora both watched it flee, then exchanged a glance.

  “We’re lucky,” Sean whispered. “We might still make it out.”

  “And the drones?” she murmured.

  He shook his head.

  “We can’t stay. Let’s try to sneak away.”

  I almost shook my head and said, “Do or do not, there is no try, kemosabe,” but bit my lip instead.

  I stood up and followed them toward the back of the house. Sean was searching for a way out, a door or window not visible from the street and hopefully out of the goblins’ and drones' line of sight.

  Meanwhile, the chief goblin barked something, and the group halted. A couple of goblins shouted back, and one of them started walking toward the house again.

  The chief leaped at him and clubbed him with the bone he held. I blinked.

  Was that… a human femur?

  At the chief’s harsh commands, the goblins began retreating. They even left one of their carts behind.

  “Wait a minute,” I said to Sean, who was desperately trying to open a window that seemed to be nailed shut. “They left.”

  He shook his head.

  “It doesn’t matter. They’ll come back, maybe with reinforcements. We need to leave this place.”

  The goblins were now about two hundred meters away, chattering loudly before turning down another street. And… did that chief just bow toward me? I blinked, confused. Had he sensed me earlier? It wasn’t impossible, given my ongoing aura-control problems. I still couldn’t fully suppress it.

  But respect to that goblin, he’d clearly put two and two together and realized that anyone whose aura could be felt from dozens of meters away was not someone to trifle with.

  I turned toward my new companions.

  “But they left a cart,” I said. “And there seems to be somebody in that cart.”

  “It must be that stupid woman they caught yesterday. Is she still bound in there?” Nora said. “It’s because of her we had to spend a whole night locked in that basement!”

  “That’s a trap,” Sean muttered.

  I stared at them, flabbergasted. Were they really going to leave that woman in the cart? I shrugged internally. Yes, they were. And frankly, I couldn't blame them.

  “I’m going to free her,” I said.

  My respect for the goblins was sinking by the minute. Sure, they knew when to retreat, but what had they done to that poor woman? Disgusting bastards!

  “No! Don’t!” Nora protested loudly, reaching for my hand.

  “They might be watching from afar!” Sean hissed.

  I slipped out of her grasp, ran outside, and hurried to the cart. A woman lay inside, half naked, tied up tightly, bound like a sausage with thick rope. I began untying her.

  Then I lifted my gaze toward Sean and Nora, who had followed me out of the house and were watching, uncertain and tense.

  “Come and help me!” I said.

  “Let’s leave them here and run,” Nora whispered to him, glancing desperately over her shoulder. “We still have a chance…”

  Sean hesitated for a few moments, then dashed back inside the house and returned with a blanket.

  “Sean!” she hissed, exasperated, as he hurried toward me.

  He knelt beside the cart, pulled out his knife, and helped me cut the remaining bindings. Together we lifted the woman out and settled her onto the blanket. She looked to be in her forties, dark hair cut short, fair skin, with hands and feet that had once been neatly manicured but were now purple and swollen from the ropes. She wasn’t conscious, but she seemed stable enough.

  Sean grabbed two corners of the blanket, I took the other two, and we rushed away carrying the woman between us.