Ivy and the Goblins Read online

  Also by Katherine Coville

  Ivy

  The Cottage in the Woods

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2019 by Katherine Coville

  Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2019 by Celia Kaspar

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

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  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Coville, Katherine, author. | Kaspar, Celia, illustrator.

  Title: Ivy and the goblins / Katherine Coville ; illustrated by Celia Kaspar.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2019. | Summary: After a farmer brings them a goblin egg, Ivy and Grandmother are stuck with a shrieking, mischievous baby until Ivy decides to brave the dark forest to find the goblin’s family.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018026939 (print) | LCCN 2018033570 (ebook) | ISBN 978-0-553-53981-3 (ebook) | ISBN 978-0-553-53979-0 (hardback) | ISBN 978-0-553-53980-6 (glb)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Goblins—Fiction. | Animals—Infancy—Fiction. | Animals, Mythical—Fiction. | Human-animal relationships—Fiction. | Healers—Fiction. | Grandmothers—Fiction. | Orphans—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Fantasy & Magic. | JUVENILE FICTION / Animals / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Family / General (see also headings under Social Issues).

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.C6845 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.C6845 Ix 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  Ebook ISBN 9780553539813

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v5.4

  ep

  For Melanie

  —K.C.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Titles

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Happily Ever After

  Chapter 2: The Noise

  Chapter 3: Born Hungry

  Chapter 4: Something in the Shadows

  Chapter 5: No Such Thing

  Chapter 6: Trouble

  Chapter 7: Balthazar’s Advice

  Chapter 8: An Accident

  Chapter 9: Mistress Peevish

  Chapter 10: Confidence

  Chapter 11: The Search

  Chapter 12: All Gone

  Chapter 13: Official Business

  Chapter 14: A Plan

  Chapter 15: SILENCE!

  Chapter 16: Too Much Mud

  Chapter 17: War Party

  Chapter 18: Ivy’s Idea

  Chapter 19: A Picnic

  About the Author

  Once upon a time, there was a small, round girl named Ivy, who was doing her best to live happily ever after. Ivy lived with her grandmother, Meg the Healer, and that made her happy. Ivy had Grandmother’s big, overgrown garden to play in, and that made her happy. Ivy even had her own work to do every day, and that made her happy too.

  Her work was helping Grandmother take care of sick and injured creatures. Some of them were forest animals, like rabbits, raccoons, or foxes. Some of them were magical creatures, who had come to be her friends. One was a three-legged griffin. Another was an aging dragon. And a big hive of friendly pixies lived in a hole in the oak tree, and followed Ivy everywhere! Ivy loved all the creatures, and they loved her, and so they let her feed them and tend to them, and that made Ivy very happy indeed.

  Grandmother’s garden was a wonderful place. It was right on the edge of the tidy village of Broomsweep, next to the Dark Forest, in the small kingdom of Evermore. Grandmother’s cozy cottage sat right in the middle of the big, overgrown garden. The garden was brimming with flowers and shrubs and weeds of all colors and kinds. It was full of good things for Grandmother to use in her potions. And it was the perfect place for Ivy and her friends to play hide-and-seek. It had comfortable holes and dens of different sizes, hidden here and there, that sick animals might inhabit while Ivy and Grandmother took care of them. And sometimes, even after a creature was all better, it liked living in the garden so much it would move right in and stay there.

  That was how they met Cedric, the three-legged griffin. He was a big, beautiful griffin, with a front part like an eagle and a back part like a lion, but he had lost one back leg in an accident. Cedric had come to the cottage one night, asking for help. He needed to learn how to land on just three legs without crashing, and he needed a place to live. So Grandmother and Ivy had welcomed him. They helped him learn to make graceful landings. They became such good friends that the griffin stayed on, in an enormous nest behind the cottage.

  Each morning, when Ivy went cheerfully about her work, Cedric greeted her from his big nest in the back of Grandmother’s garden.

  “Good, good, good morning! Very good! Most good!” he would say, in his strong eagle voice, as he wagged his lion tail.

  “Good morning, Cedric!” Ivy would reply. Then a tiny white dog would pop out from under Cedric’s wing and yap happily. His name was Poof. He had big brown eyes and a little pink tongue. Even though he was very small, he was not at all afraid of the griffin. He liked to live with Cedric and hide under the griffin’s huge wings. As soon as breakfast was finished, the griffin would make a mighty leap and fly to the top of the cottage roof, so he could keep watch over all of Grandmother’s garden.

  “I guard the garden!” he would say. “Griffins guard!”

  “Good Cedric!” Ivy would say.

  “Yes, good Cedric,” he would answer. “Mighty Cedric!”

  Then Ivy would sprinkle seeds on the ground, near the hazel trees, for the birds and squirrels. She visited every creature in the garden to see if they needed food or fresh bedding. One morning, she took care of a rabbit with an infected ear. Then she comforted a porcupine who was missing some of her quills. Then she tended to a small mole with a toothache. She always petted the creatures who needed petting. She was extra careful when she petted the porcupine. She spoke softly to the animals, just like Grandmother did. Even though they didn’t understand her, they seemed to like the sound of her voice.

  If Grandmother asked her, Ivy even gave them some of the special tonics Grandmother cooked up. She might give them Sneezlewort Potion, for sneezes, or Limberjuice, for aches and pains. She was always very sure to measure carefully and do everything the way Grandmother told her. She wanted to be a healer, just like Grandmother.

  When Ivy made her way about the garden, the pixies flitted all around her. They were tiny winged people, smaller than Ivy’s pinky finger. Sometimes, they had tiny temper tantrums. When someone made them mad, the pixies might poke or pinch them, or pull their hair. But when they were happy, they tickled Ivy’s neck and laughed tiny laughs like wind chimes. They did somersaults and twirls and all sorts of tricks in midair. They rode on her head and shoulders while she went about her work, and made everything more fun. Ivy was delighted to have them for friends. Every day,
she put a cup of honey in the hole in the oak tree, where the pixies lived. The pixies loved honey. And they loved Ivy. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

  When Ivy had finished with her chores, she would go down by the stream and visit Balthazar, the dragon who lived under the weeping willow tree. He was small for a dragon, but even so, Ivy had been a little apprehensive around him when he first came to the cottage, looking for a cure for a dreadful fiery sneeze. (It can be a terrible thing when a fire-breathing dragon sneezes!) But when she got to know him, Ivy found that Balthazar was very old and wise, and had many stories to tell. After a few doses of Grandmother’s Sneezlewort Potion, he had stopped sneezing fire. He stayed under the weeping willow tree, where he was usually napping.

  Sometimes, Ivy’s human friends came to the garden to visit as well. Peter, who lived next door, used to tease her, until she had showed him how to make friends with the pixies. Now he was nice to Ivy, and they often laughed together as he helped her care for the creatures. Edwina and Marta, the shoemaker’s daughters, had come to be good friends with Ivy and Peter too, and sometimes joined them to play games in the garden.

  All in all, it was a great place for living happily ever after. And Ivy did. Until, one day, something happened.

  It didn’t seem like trouble at first. It started out as an ordinary day. Farmer Higley brought his sick goat to Grandmother. Grandmother listened while he explained that the goat seemed to have a stomachache. Grandmother called Ivy to come and help. Ivy held the little goat’s head and spoke soothingly to him to keep him calm, while Grandmother looked him over. Grandmother gently felt his swollen belly. She opened his mouth and peeked down his throat.

  “Hmm,” she considered. “I think he has eaten something he shouldn’t have. A very common problem with goats!”

  “Well,” said Farmer Higley, “one of my old boots is missing. Could he have eaten that?”

  “You never can tell with a goat,” Grandmother answered. “Ivy, please fetch the Bellyache Tonic, the special kind for curious goats. Measure one small cup, and mix it with a handful of oats.”

  Ivy went into the cottage and opened the potion cupboard. She began to read the labels: “Whisker Oil…Rash-Be-Gone Rub…Sore-Ear Cure…Bellyache Tonic…Here it is! Special Bellyache Tonic for Curious Goats!” Ivy picked it up and checked the label again. She used a small cup to measure the liquid, and scooped a handful of oats from a big open bag. After mixing them carefully in a wooden bowl, she took the oats out to feed to the goat. The goat sniffed at them, then he chomped them right up. Then he tried to eat the bowl! Ivy laughed and took it away.

  “That should do it,” Grandmother said to Farmer Higley. “If he’s not all better by tomorrow, bring him back.”

  Farmer Higley smiled and thanked her. That was when the something happened. He said, “As payment, I have something special that I found in the forest. I was walking in the Dark Forest and got a little lost. While I was trying to find my way, I saw this hidden in a fern bed. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I thought you might want it.” He lifted a wooden crate out of his cart. It was filled with straw, and on the straw sat one big egg.

  Ivy stared at the egg, her eyes wide. The egg was almost as big as the cantaloupes growing in the garden. It was orange, and covered with dark brown speckles. What could be in there? She looked at Grandmother’s face, but Grandmother did not look happy.

  “Oh dear,” Grandmother said. “I don’t know what it is either, but I think you should have left it alone. Can you put it back where you found it?”

  Farmer Higley’s face fell. “I’m afraid I could never find the same place again. Does that mean it won’t hatch?”

  “I don’t know,” Grandmother answered, shaking her head. “If you can’t put it back, I guess we’ll just have to take care of it and see what happens.” With that, Grandmother thanked him and said goodbye. Ivy followed her inside, burning with curiosity, as Grandmother placed the crate in a warm spot next to the fireplace. Then they stood back and contemplated the egg.

  “What kind of egg is it, Grandmother?” asked Ivy.

  Just then, Ivy heard a scratching sound coming from the egg.

  “Quickly,” replied Grandmother, “we should look through my books and see if we can find something like it. My old eyes are not so good. Read the titles for me, dear.”

  Ivy went to the bookshelves and started looking. First she pulled up a stool to stand on, and tried the top shelf. “Let’s see….Fine Feathered Friends. This one is about birds, Grandmother. Wouldn’t it tell about their eggs?”

  “I’m afraid this is much too big to be a bird’s egg,” Grandmother answered uneasily. The scratching noise from the crate grew louder.

  “How about a lizard egg or a snake egg?” Ivy asked.

  Grandmother shook her head. “Lizard and snake eggs are too small. You’d better look for something about magical creatures. I only hope—”

  “What, Grandmother?”

  A cracking sound came from the egg.

  “Never mind. Just keep looking. Hurry.”

  Ivy stepped down from the stool and looked all through the next shelf, and the next, but she found nothing about magical creatures. Finally, she looked along the bottom shelf. Some of those books were very old and very dusty. The last book on the bottom shelf was The Beastly Book of Magical Creatures and Monsters. Ivy pulled it out and blew the dust off it, then she set it on the table in front of Grandmother. There were more cracking sounds from the egg.

  Grandmother opened the book and looked at the pictures. “I just hope it’s not—”

  “What, Grandmother?”

  Grandmother didn’t answer. Ivy stood next to her and turned the pages, reading each page out loud.

  “Basilisk?” she read.

  “No…,” Grandmother said.

  “Cyclops?”

  “No…”

  “Dryads?…Dwarves?…Elves?”

  “No…no…no.”

  “But look at this picture, Grandmother! ‘Melon-sized eggs,’ it says. ‘Orange, with brown speckles.’ That’s the one, all right.” She looked over at the egg as the cracking sound continued. She watched as a little chip of the egg fell away, and suddenly a terrible, whiny, screeching sound came out of the egg. The terrible noise increased with each piece of eggshell falling away. Grandmother and Ivy looked on anxiously, their eyes wide.

  Just then, the egg opened right up, and out tumbled a wrinkled, little creature with grayish skin. It had a big, round, bald head, with pointed ears, big, round eyes, a button nose, and tiny, blunt fangs. Its mouth was wide open, like a hungry baby bird’s.

  “That’s just what I was afraid of,” Grandmother said, raising her voice in order to be heard.

  Ivy looked closer at the book and read the words below the picture. Her eyes grew even wider. “It’s…a goblin!”

  Ivy turned to Grandmother. “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen a baby goblin before,” Grandmother admitted. “See what it says in the book.”

  Ivy read from the section on goblins. “It says that they’re born hungry. It says they eat mushrooms, but they must never eat— Grandmother, part of the page has been torn away.”

  “Oh dear. How will we ever know what they mustn’t eat?”

  The baby goblin wobbled slowly onto his oversized feet, and reached his chubby, little arms up to Ivy, as if he wanted to be picked up. Ivy thought he was cute, in an ugly sort of way. “Aww,” she said, reaching out to him. As soon as she touched him, he bit her hand.

  “Ouch!” she hollered, pulling her hand away and shaking it. “I guess he really is hungry!”

  “Be careful,” Grandmother said. “He may look harmless, but—”

  The baby goblin stared at Ivy with his big dark eyes, an
d stopped yowling for a second. Then he started right up again.

  “Why does he have to be so loud, Grandmother? Do all babies screech like this? How can we make him stop?”

  “We’ll just have to take care of him the best we can. We’d better hurry and find something for him to eat. He should be safe here in the crate,” Grandmother said. “He’s too little to climb out. You look for mushrooms on the north side of the garden, and I’ll try the south.”

  Grandmother and Ivy grabbed some baskets and headed for the door. The baby goblin screamed even louder to see them go.

  Ivy hurried through the garden to a damp, shady patch where she had seen edible mushrooms growing. She could still hear the little goblin making his big noise inside the cottage as she began to pick.

  “What is that racket?” a deep voice thundered. Ivy looked around. Balthazar, the dragon, had come up the path from the stream. His nostrils were blowing smoke. “The sound woke me up from my morning nap!” he said.

  Cedric, who was sitting on top of the house, guarding the garden, called out: “What, what, what is that terrible noise? Awful noise! Squalling noise! It hurts Cedric’s ears!”

  Ivy turned back to them. “It’s a baby,” she said. “A baby goblin. It just hatched.”

  “Oh…,” Cedric answered. “How terribly awful! How do we get rid of it?”

  “Grandmother says we must take care of him, Cedric. I have to pick some mushrooms for him.”

  “Will that keep him quiet?” asked the dragon. “I’ll help you look!”

  “Thank you, Balthazar. That would be a great help!”

  The dragon went about the garden, sniffing here and there, and pointing out some likely spots to Ivy. They found brown mushrooms and red ones and some with spotted caps. Grandmother had taught her which kinds of mushrooms were safe to eat. Ivy knew the red and spotted ones were not good to eat. She picked only certain special mushrooms that she knew were safe. Soon Balthazar called out that he had found some more, and Ivy hurried to pick them. Then she thanked Balthazar for his help and rushed back to the cottage, where she met Grandmother.