Negotiations

I'm not sure what I was expecting to find on the inside of the mountain. Maybe a dimly-lit cavern full of goblins holding sharp implements. But, what greeted me on the other side was a bright, torch-lit room with no apparent exit. As soon as we entered, the doorway behind us closed and seemed to meld into the walls.

The stone walls and floor were eerily smooth. It was strange, with how flat and smooth they were, I would have expected to see some kind of tool marks. But, it looked like someone had shaped them like putty or clay.

The only other thing of interest in the room was a familiar-looking cart. It looked almost identical to the carts at Gringotts. At Gringotts, you have to use the cart attached to a rail-system to access your vault. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. I've never seen a goblin on the Knight Bus, or use the Floo Network. I'll bet they have a system of underground rails that they use to get around Britain.

Gragnast waved his left hand and motioned for us to get on the cart and chortled, "Come on, you don't want to keep the clan leaders waiting. The last person to do that, well, let's just say it didn't end well for them."

Gragnast voice trailed off, most likely in an attempt to force us to imagine the worst. I kept my expression blank, and I saw Dad give me a look of approval with his eyes. Every move the goblins were making were a test, I'm not sure what they're testing for, but I was determined to pass.

There were four seats in the cart, Gragnast and the other nameless goblin claimed the seats on the right side, leaving Dad and I to fill the positions on the left.

Musing out loud, I quipped, "I take it that we're going down."

The nameless goblin pushed his stringy hair to the back and answered with a pointy grin, "You could say that."

Before I could say anything else, Gragnast abruptly pulled a lever, and I felt my stomach try to exit my mouth. The drop was so sudden, I almost screamed in surprise.

The cart we were on took a steep dive, down into the bowels of the earth. The tunnel was mostly dark, every fifty feet or so, we passed by a bright torch. After passing by a couple of them, I figured those were probably a way to mess with a wizard's sight. Goblins could see perfectly in the dark, and the torches would ensure a wizard's sight couldn't adjust to the darkness.

Of course, there are spells or potions a wizard could use to combat the darkness. But I had a feeling that our host would be offended if I did something about the darkness. After gaining some speed, I noticed we were about to level out, and at the bottom of the curve was a small waterfall pouring over the tracks.

It was a familiar sight, Gringotts had one as well. The water was enchanted to remove all magical disguises. Once we passed through the water, the goblin next to me visibly relaxed and removed his hand from another lever.

"Out of curiosity," I asked. "What would have happened if the waterfall had revealed we weren't who we said we were?"

The goblin gave an insidious grin as if it would have made his day if the waterfall had revealed we were impostors. "I would have pulled the lever, separating the cart into halves." He explained with an evil glint in his dark eyes.

He pointed to an upcoming branch to the rail system that only traveled about ten feet or so and abruptly ended at a wall with razor-sharp spikes. "We would have continued, and you would have had a short trip."

I gulped as we flew past the spikes. I made a mental note to be extra careful if I ever had to sneak into a goblin lair.

As the trip continued, I lost all sense of direction. Sometimes we spent a minute going straight, only to double back, then change directions again. I had a feeling that they were taking us the long way, so we didn't know where their den was located.

Without warning, Gragnast pulled another lever, and the cart loudly screeched as the brakes forcibly slowed the cart down. The cart rolled to a stop at a torch-lit alcove. Both of the goblins got out, and Gragnast motioned for us to follow.

Happy to get back on solid ground, I hastily exited the cart. I couldn't help but wonder how deep underground we were. There was an absolute stillness to the air. As if at any moment, we could be crushed by a mountain of stone.

Banishing the unpleasant thought, I took a closer look at the massive steel door that was in the alcove. The door was full of strange geometric carvings and symbols that I recognized from the goblin language. I wasn't far enough in my studies to understand more than a word or two. One of the words I recognized was Sharpclaw. I had made a point to look it up before leaving.

Gragnast approached the door and started running his long finger over the geometric pattern in an order that seemed to be random. Even more curious was his whispers. My first thought was he was chanting a spell. Even though wands are forbidden to goblins, they have their own magic. But, as I strained my ears, I realized he was softly crooning something to the door, almost like it was a pet.

When he finished, the geometric patterns started shifting and rotating like gears. Once they were done, there was a final click, and the steel door slowly swung open, inviting us to enter the home of Clan Sharpclaw.

At this point, I had put away any expectations on what to see. What greeted us on the other side was a long hallway with a deep, rich red carpet running along the floor. Statues and busts of goblins decorated the edges of the hall. As we made our way through the hallway, I couldn't help but notice some small holes in the wall that looked suspicious.

Most of them seemed to be angled towards the height of an average wizard. I caught a glimpse inside one of them and noticed a sharp, wicked-looking blade with a purple paste smeared along the edge.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose at the sight of the poisoned blade. I tried to look around subtly. I lost count at how many murder holes I found. What really made me nervous, was if these were the ones I could see, how many was I missing.

I let out a sigh of relief as we left what I had dubbed, the hallway of death. We came to a large hollowed out dome, along the sides, I could see several goblins moving on different levels carved into the walkways on the side of the dome.

Gragnast moved along the edge of the first floor. We made our way to the far side of the dome. This time, he opened a standard door that we once again had to duck to get through. On the other hand was a simple room that had a long rectangular table.

At the table waiting for us were two elderly goblins with silvery stringy hair. Although it was difficult to tell, I was pretty sure one was female. They were dressed in suits, with the female wearing a burgundy red suit and the male wearing a plain dark grey one. I was beginning to think that suits were to goblins as robes were to wizards.

Seeing the deference that Gragnast had towards the two goblins, clued me into their identity. Before we left, Dad had told me the names of the two goblins who ran Clan Sharpclaw. The female goblin's name was Nurlock, and her counterpart was Kurlaff. Each of them had separate responsibilities within the clan.

Nurlock was responsible for gaining and growing the clan's wealth, and Kurlaff was responsible for defending the clan from outside forces. I understood why Nurlock was here, but I hadn't been expecting Kurlaff to be here. But, after giving it some thought, I realized why he needed to be here. What we were proposing would inevitably bring them into conflict with the goblin clans that are invested in the Nimbus company.

As we were getting situated, I could feel Nurlock and Kurlaff evaluating us with their dark eyes. They seemed content to sit in absolute silence until we were ready.

Just as Dad was getting ready to speak, Nurlock spoke up in a high pitched voice, "So, Mr. Fawley. Why are you here? I trust the custom work we provided you is to your satisfaction."

Dad smiled and flattered Nurlock, "As always, the work your clan provided was top quality."

For half a second, I saw a glitter of appreciation in Nurlock and Kurlaff's eyes. Similar to wizards, goblins like to be flattered on their work.

Dad continued, "We're here tonight to offer your clan an opportunity."

Nurlock narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"How much do you know about the Broom Racing Industry?" Dad asked.

Nurlock exchanges a quick look with Kurlaff before replying, "There are around half a dozen companies worldwide that are relatively stable. At the top of the list is the Nimbus Broom Racing Company."

Dad nodded in agreement. "That's right," he said. "Now, what would you say If I said that within a year, the Nimbus Broom Racing Company would no longer be number one?"

Nurlock scoffed in disbelief, "That's unlikely, it's difficult to break into an existing market. In my experience, most newcomers to the Broom Racing Market end up being swallowed by one of the bigger companies within a year or two."

Dad smiled and held up a finger as if to dispel that notion. "You may be right, but those companies didn't have me."

Pulling open his briefcase, Dad started removing drawings of the Firebolt and slid them across the table. Nurlock and Kurlaff both looked at the drawings with interest.

Nurlock pointed to the metal gear on the back of the broom and said, "I see you plan on using our work to complement your design."

Not as impressed, Kurlaff remarked, "The pictures are pretty, but I believe in what I can see."

Dad nodded as if he expected that response. Reaching deep into the briefcase, he pulled out a prototype of the Firebolt and set it in front of the goblins.

Kurlaff's eye lit up in appreciation when he saw his clan made-gear on the rear of the Firebolt. He quickly clamped down on his emotions and casually asked the most critical question, "So, how fast does it go?"

Dad gave them a sly grin and proudly said, "As of my last test a week ago, the Firebolt can go from 0 to 240 KPH in ten seconds."

There was silence as the two goblins did the math in their head. The fastest broom on the market right now was the Nimbus 2000, and its top speed was around 160 KPH.

Both of their eyes started shining as they realized they were sitting on a gold mine— so to speak. Nurlock reached out and ran a long slender finger down the goblin forged gear. Already imagining the gold, she greedily purred, "I take it you would like to set p a contract to get more of these gears."

I hid a smirk at seeing the greed in her eyes. I knew she was thinking about all the ways she could screw with us. If we were dependent on them for materials, there were a million ways they could wrangle more gold from us.

For the first time tonight, Dad took the goblins off guard when he replied, "No, that's not what we're here for."

An outraged look appeared on Nurlock's face as if Dad had just stolen all the coming gold she had been imaging the Firebolt bringing to her clan. With a snarl on her face, she hissed, "Then what are you doing here, wizard?"

Dad graciously chose to ignore her tone, put his arm on my shoulder, and passionately declared, "We're here because we want you to go into business with our family. We want you to invest and have a real stake in this new Broom Racing Company. I want you to have a genuine desire to see the Firebolt dominate the competition. Not because it will mean there will be more materials needed from your clan. But, because with each sale will benefit the company and by default your coffers."

Both Nurlock and Kurlaff appeared to be surprised at Dad's declaration. I couldn't blame them, most wizards and witches were reluctant to go into business with goblin clans. They often prefer just getting a loan from Gringotts. Even though the bank will gouge them on interest, they prefer that to have goblins owning a stake in a company. Of course, this excludes the larger companies that have an international market. Often they need capital and are more than willing to take on a goblin clan as an investor.

As delighted as Nurlock seemed to be at the invitation, Kurlaff seemed suspicious about the whole thing and demanded in a rough voice, "Why? Why are you asking us to be apart of this?"

Dad hesitated for a moment, which only seemed to deepen Kurlaff's suspicion. "It's a trick," he hissed to Nurlock. "I bet they want our gold, and as soon as we invest, they'll take our money and disappear. My father always said that you could never trust a wizard with gold."

I was a little surprised at how quickly the atmosphere changed. Even Nurlock was starting to narrow her dark eyes and look at us in suspicion.

I figured dad was going to probably say something along the lines of building a company and making profits, but I sensed that they needed a better reason. They wouldn't believe that a wizarding family would offer this to them for just any reason. I needed to put things in a perspective that they would understand and possibly sympathize with.

Before Dad could say anything, I thought about the few words and phrases I knew in Gobbledegook. Making sure to pronounce it correctly, I carefully said, "Rhuul dhol. That's why we're coming to you."

Both of the goblins froze for a moment, "We do not have a blood feud between us," Kurlaff carefully said while shooting a puzzled glance at Nurlock.

I smiled, "True, but we have one with Delvin Whithorn. The owner of the Nimbus Broom Racing Company."

As my voice trailed off, Karloff tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Knowing I had captured his attention, I had to force myself not to smile.

In a tone that had less suspicion, Kurlaff said, "Tell us of this Blood Feud that compelled you to seek us out."

I looked at Dad, but he indicated that since I had started this, I needed to finish it. Gathering my thoughts, I decided to frame everything in a way that would resonate with a goblin clan.

After taking a deep breath, I went back to the beginning, "It all started with the death of our Patriarch, George Fawley."

As I told our story, I could feel dad's incredulous eyes on me as I added colorful viewpoints on what happened. I didn't lie. I just told our story from a unique perspective.

As I finished the tale, by explaining the recent assassination attempt by Delvin Whithorn, the suspicion in Kurlaff's eyes had faded away. Gravely nodding, he acknowledged, "You do have a Blood Feud with this Whithorn clan."

He looked straight into my eyes looking for the truth and asked, "What does any of that have to do with starting a new company?"

This time, I looked at Dad for confirmation to reveal our intentions. Once he nodded that it was ok, I turned back to Kurlaff and fervently said, "This isn't about the gold."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nurlock take offense at that. Knowing that gold was significant to them, I retracted, "Well, not just about the gold. You see, we don't just want the Firebolt to become the best broom on the market. Our real motive is to seize control of the Nimbus Broom Racing Company."

I could see that Nurlock seemed to be convinced, but Kurlaff seemed still on the fence. He pulled her to the side and started to hiss in Gobbledegook."

Although I had yet to learn Gobbledegook, I could tell from their tone that Karloff seemed to be lecturing Nurlock on something.

Once they had finished their quiet argument, Kurlaff turned back to us and pointed out, "You seem to have left out, that joining with you in your attempt would put us at odds with the clan that backs the Nimbus Company. Something like that could bring trouble to our clan."

I almost rolled my eyes, Kurlaff wasn't scared of conflict with another clan. Goblin clans came into conflict with one another all the time. Mostly it was about gold. What he was doing right now was really a negotiating tactic. Acting as trouble could come to their clan, was really him saying they should be better compensated for their trouble.

At this point, I let Dad take over the negotiations. He had taken several meetings with Barbra Lancaster's squib lawyers. While they couldn't cast magic with wands, they proved their worth with creating complicated and detailed contracts.

I almost laughed when I saw the two goblins eyes widen to the size of saucers when Dad passed them a preliminary contract. They were used to dealing with wizards who didn't have the faintest clue how to write up ironclad agreements.

Nothing would be signed right away, but it was a good place for us to start. One of the main demands from the goblins was that if we successfully took over the Nimbus company, that it had to be folded into the company. That way, they could get access to any profits from the nimbus models that we sold.

Since we were counting on the Sharpclaw clan to help counter the goblin clan invested in Nimbus, Dad agreed to their request. But, Dad also clarified that this would be a new company, separate from Fawley's Wondrous Enchantments. Nurlock's eyes flashed in disappointment. I think she had been hoping to get her claws into Dad's shop.

As the evening wore on, Nurlock brought up several good points that would help our Company would have to address before we could go public and release the Firebolt.

As the meeting came to a close, Dad set up a meeting for the following week. It was the first of many. He would probably be meeting with them weekly. I wouldn't be surprised if they attached a few goblins to work closely with him.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't be in attendance. The first of September was right around the corner. I was torn, I wanted to be more involved, but I would probably be more useful at school. If I can get this spell I am working on to work, it will be the nail in the coffin for Delvin and the Nimbus Company.

My suspicions about the goblins taking us on a scenic route on our way inside the mountain were confirmed when they took out to the exit in a far shorter trip that barely lasted a minute. I guess that it means that they trust us more now.

After getting outside, Dad grabbed my arm and apparated us back home. A few days later, and it was September first, and it was time to return to Hogwarts.