Read Online The Spindlers by Lauren Oliver - Free Book Online Page B

nervous. She was worrying her tail between her paws, muttering, “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
    â€œStop that,” Liza whispered. “You’ll make us seem guilty.”
    The rat moaned.
    â€œShhh,” Liza hushed her. “Pull yourself together. Everything will be okay. I’m sure the judge will understand that this is all a big mistake.” Liza wished she felt as confident as she was pretending to be. She cursed herself for listening to the nids’ music, for getting close to the palace at all. It must have been hours since she’d descended Below; and if what Mirabella had said was true, the spindlers’ Feast would soon begin.
    The nids filed into the stone seats that encircled the court, buzzing and chattering excitedly. Almost as soon as the nids were seated, the mole cried out, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Gobbington IV!” Instantly there was shuffling and rustling, and murmurs of excitement, as the nids climbed again to their feet.
    Liza stood along with everybody else. Mirabella was practically white with fear, and Liza’s throat was dry and chalky, as though she had inhaled sawdust.
    She heard a scuffling sound, the noise of slapping footsteps along the dark, dank hall through which the mole had led them, then a dry, rattling cough. Finally the judge stepped into the amphitheater.
    At least, Liza thought he must be the judge. He certainly looked wise. Although he was probably no taller than she, his head was four times the size of hers and incredibly wrinkled, like an enormous, shriveled pea. His face, in contrast, seemed ridiculously small: just a bare twig of a nose, and two squinty eyes, and a pinched mouth floating in the middle of that humongous head. Liza felt the wild urge to laugh, as she did sometimes when she got very nervous, and fought desperately to quell it.
    Judge Gobbington IV had a large gavel tucked under one arm. He was wearing thick glasses and an elaborate black gown that reached almost all the way to the ground. His bare feet protruded from underneath its hem, however, and Liza saw that they were large and slightly webbed, like a duck’s. When he walked, his feet made a wet, slapping sound against the stone.
    Still, despite his faintly absurd appearance, the judge moved with solemn confidence, like someone supremely aware of his own importance. As he mounted the podium, Liza whispered to Mirabella, “What—what is it?”
    Before the rat could respond, the judge shot Liza a withering look. “I see you are a stranger to the world Below,” he said in a reedy voice. “Otherwise you would surely be familiar with the Gobbingtons. We were the first family of hobgoblins to settle this region, back when the lumpen were still young and the nids were no more than nobs in the ground—when flowers had not yet learned to grow, and water and land did not know that they were separate.” Judge Gobbington IV frowned. “You would also be familiar with the fact that hobgoblins have excellent hearing. I trust you will not make that mistake again.”
    â€œN-no, sir,” Liza sputtered. She sank back down onto the bench, and her heart sank with her. Obviously, she was not off to a very good start. The nids began tittering again, whispering to one another as they reseated themselves.
    The hobgoblin judge banged loudly with his gavel on the podium to restore order. “Now, then,” he said. “What’s all the fuss about?”
    The nid with Liza’s broom stepped forward. “Your Honor!” he cried. “The rat and the human child were snooping and spying! They were lurking and leering, and peering and prodding—”
    â€œYou’ve made your point quite clear,” the judge snapped, with another thunderous bang of his gavel. The nid shrank back, picking nervously at the broom’s bristles.
    Judge Gobbington turned his attention back toward the bench. He slid his glasses down on