Lilly III

by Tiya Rayne

  Lilly III

  Lilly III

  Copyright 2016 Tiya Rayne

  Published by Tiya Rayne at Smashwords

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Note from Author

  Other books by Tiya Rayne

  Connect with Tiya Rayne

  Acknowledgements

  This one is for my readers and as always, my three beautiful kids.

  Chapter One

  My feet ache, hunger gnaws at me, and thirst is making me delirious, but nothing hurts more than the thought that the Assassin is dead. My mind could not register it. It fights against the idea that anyone could defeat that man. I knew it was possible, I assumed people from the Locke could die, that shifter I shot with an arrow surely did, but Assassin was unlike any man I had ever seen. Surely the laws of life and death didn’t apply to him. That is what my mind said, however it could not convince my heart.

  I stumble silently behind Hemrock. We kept up our fast pace trek through the night and now, I could add utter exhaustion to my new list of ailments. No one has said much to me since the news of Assassin’s death. I think they understand that I am hurting. Hyland tried to cheer me up saying that the Elf Queen would seek revenge for the fallen warrior. And although I was glad, it did not alleviate my pain. Miriam spent most of the walk towards the goblin kingdom silently crying beside me, and Hyland was focused mostly on her, which if I was not so down in the dumps would have made me happy for her.

  The sun steadily climbed up the sky, bringing with it the start of a new day. At one point I thought the goblin kingdom was some fictitious place that only existed in their imagination and that these goblins were just walking for no real reason.

  When we stop once again for a bathroom break and some water I collapse to my knees in relief. Walking helps me focus on my loss and not the aches of my body, but when we stop my body always roars back to life.

  Hugan, the elderly gentleman that is also captured by the goblins, sits down in front of me and hands me a pouch full of cool water. It’s obvious I am exhausted and distracted, usually when we stop I am giving him water. I take a gulp of the refreshing water and then hand it back to him. He holds his hands up shaking his head.

  “You need it more than I.” The elder immortal says.

  I could argue against that, but he is being a gentleman and I shouldn’t take that from him. We have nothing left but our dignity now. So I take another smaller sip and then hand him the water back. He takes it from me and takes a swallow.

  “Refreshing.” He smiles.

  We sit in silence for a while, me massaging my sore feet and him watching me.

  Finally he says, “I met the Assassin once.”

  Immediately I look up at him. His cloudy eyes were focused on my swollen ankles.

  “It was before my Laya was born.” Laya was Hugan’s granddaughter that was taken with him. “Our village was being trampled by the dark king’s army. There were hundreds of them. They were making short work of us poor farmers. I had already lost my wife to the army and was trying to protect my daughter. She was heavy with Laya at the time. Her husband had died only a few months before in a similar raid…..”

  Caught up in my own misery I forgot that these people are suffering far worse than I have in the last few hours. Hugan’s story reminds me of that. In my belly I hold the key to a better future for people like Hugan and Laya. I had no right to be tired.

  “…….Then in the middle of the fight,” Hugan is saying when I tuned back in to his story. “The assassin appears. It was just him facing off against an army of hundreds. But even then he looked more deadly than that entire army. I remember thinking, finally someone to save us.” Hugan’s eyes find mine and he smiles. “He defeated that army. He was outnumbered, but he defeated that army as if he too had an army backing him. I had heard tales of the great warrior. How his blade was given to him by the Great Goddess herself. How, no man that has gone up against the elf’s blade has ever survived. I became a true believer that day in my village as I stood amongst the dead bodies of shifters and giants.” The old man’s cloudy eyes bore into me as he tries to imprint on me the significance of his story. “Men like Assassin do not die easily.” Hugan stands slowly.

  Apparently he had told me everything he needed to say. He too, believed that the Assassin was still alive. The flame in my heart roars back to life. I knew it! I place a hand on the old man’s gnarled hand with fingers crooked like tree limbs. He looks down at me with cloudy cataract eyes.

  “Thank you!” I say, needing that assurance.

  He places a warm hand over mine. “Hold strong.” He smiles, flashing a row of aged teeth at me.

  I let go of his hand and he walks away. I find myself truly smiling for the first time in a while. At that moment my stomach growls loudly, reminding me of why I needed to stay strong. I touch my grumbling belly sending out a silent apology to my fetus sons. Suddenly, a bright red fruit drops in my lap. I look up shielding my eyes from the morning sun.

  “Mogo take good care of Sara.” I shudder at the fake name I gave everyone. We actually told them it was Sarafine, but Mogo seemed to think that was too long. I smile up at the half giant and half goblin nephew of the evil leader of this kidnapping group.

  “Thank you, Mogo.” I take the fruit and wipe it on my now grungy dress before I bite into it. Blessed sweetness fills my mouth and I close my eyes to the wonderful taste.

  “Mogo pick good fruit?”

  “Mogo picked wonderful fruit.” I say, and he gives me a crooked tooth smile.

  I take another bite of the delicious fruit that is shaped like an apple with the texture of a peach. “Sit.” I say to him. He happily drops down beside me. With his massive size he still dwarfs me even though he’s sitting. “Where did you get this fruit? It’s so delicious?”

  “Trap trees.” He answers.

  “Trap tree?”

  “Tall tree. Grows trap fruit.” He points to the leftover fruit in my hand. Seems like a weird name for fruit. “Trap fruit, very good. Protected by trappers. Trappers mean. Nasty bite.” He holds out his hand and a huge red blister is sitting on the back of his hand.

  “Mogo!” I shout, grabbing his hand.

  The blister looked sore and angry. The fruit was delicious, but it wasn’t worth him getting hurt. “Does it hurt?” I ask, still holding his massive hand that is the size of two of mine.

  “No hurt now.” He says, proudly. “very hurt then.”

  “No more getting hurt to bring me fruit. Ok?” I pull another strip off the bottom of my dress, at this rate I will have a mini skirt before I get to the goblin kingdom. I wrap the strip of fabric around the large knot. Mogo beams down at me as I finish treating his hand. “Better?” I ask him.

  “Better.” He nods.

  I finish my fruit. After all he went through to get it I wasn’t wasting a piece of it.

  “Alright slaves, get up let’s go.” Hemrock says, kicking the old m
an to get him moving faster. Mogo grabs my hand and helps me up to my swollen feet.

  “Are you ok?” Miriam appears with Hyland on her heel. “Your feet aren’t looking too good.”

  “I’ll be ok.”

  I take a step and my feet protest. I buckle and Mogo catches me in his arms.

  “Leave that slave alone you dumb oaf.” Hemrock shouts from behind us.

  Mogo tightens his grip on me and I’m almost afraid he is going to break my bones. It isn’t his fault, he is too strong for his own good. I whimper at his grip and he immediately release me. Miriam is at my side instantly taking my weight.

  “Mogo hurt Sara?”

  “No!” I say, even though I’m rubbing my soon to be bruised arms. “Mogo didn’t mean to.”

  “You stupid giant. You can’t bruise the merchandise.”

  I find it ironic that Hemrock would scold Mogo for bruising me when he has done way more damage “I should put the whip to your back.” Mogo cowers at the mention of the whip on Hemrock’s belt.

  “Leave him alone. It was an accident.” I say, in Mogo’s defense.

  Hemrock’s eyes narrow at me and an evil sneer spreads over his dirty face.

  “I’ll give you a reprieve, girl. I know you’re in mourning.” He laughs. “Why, even your dress has turned black for the occasion.” He laughs along with the other goblins.

  I look down at my once Blue dress that is so filthy that in fact it does look black.

  “You are probably the only creature alive that will mourn for the assassin. I only mourn the fact I wasn’t there to see his death.”

  That was it. I don’t care if the assassin was dead or not, I would not allow this despicable creature to talk about him any longer.

  “You cruel, ugly, little thing,” I shout with my fist clutched at my sides.

  I was no longer leaning on Miriam for support. I wanted to look strong while I told this vile creature off. Hemrock’s face turns from joking to anger instantly. I knew calling him little would get to him. This guy had a serious Napoleon complex. He takes a step towards me, but I don’t back down.

  “Assassin is not dead. He will come for me and when he does I will make sure I let him know how much you wanted to see him die.”

  I may not be able to cause the goblin fear, but the mention of Assassin coming for him had the goblin nearly pissing in his pants.

  “The assassin is dead, girl.” The goblin growls, but I could see the doubt cross his face. He didn’t believe it either.

  I held my head high and stood tall. “Then why are you trembling?”

  Hemrock takes a menacing step towards me.

  “Brother,” Bevel, the only descent goblin out here, interrupts what I’m sure was going to be another bruise for me. “We need to keep to the schedule.”

  Hemrock growls at his brother, but stops in his tracks.

  “Let’s move.” Hemrock shouts, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. He is staring at me, sending me a challenge. His eyes are saying I will pay for calling him out in front of his men. With my eyes, I send him one back, “Bring it, you little prick.”

  The entrance to the goblin kingdom is in a mountain. When we approached the gray stone mountain I thought we would need to climb it or go around it. I feared another day or more of walking, but Hemrock only moved aside a bramble of bushes that was hiding a secret entrance and stepped through. We walked in pitch darkness for a little while with only a torch to guide us. The mountain was cold and damp. The air smelled of minerals and stale water. Stalagmites and stalactites made the mountain look like the inside of a monsters mouth with its sharp jagged lines. Soon we walked through another opening and the mountain spit us out into a bustling village. My eyes took a moment to adjust from the dark light of the mountain to the bright sunlight. Goblins were everywhere. Ranging in height from anywhere between 2—4 feet. They all turn to glare at us like we were invading on their territory and not brought here against our will.

  Amongst the goblins were their slaves. Malnourished, dirty, bruised slaves wearing the silver witch cuffs that traps their power. There were so many different breeds of them. Lots of Immortals. I noticed a few elves even some giants. They looked like survivors from some horrible prison encampment. Their eyes looked to us with so much lifelessness. These slaves have been here for so long they have lost their wills to live. The thought makes my heart speed up in my chest, if Assassin is truly dead, will this be me in a few years? Will I look this dead? I would like to think that I wouldn’t. Maybe I would be like the slaves of my ancestors and fight for my freedom to the very end. But, who knows what all these victims have been through.

  Hemrock yanks on my chain and I almost stumble to the ground, but catch myself at the last minute. I take in the rest of this village. Wooden huts lined the dirty muddy path we walk. Open air stalls were everywhere offering many different trinkets, but nothing was as prominent as Gems. Gemstones of all sizes were everywhere. They were being hauled, cleaned, cut from rock, polished, traded, and turned into jewelry. Everything seems to revolve around gemstones. The smallest gem I have seen would go for thousands back home. Money like that could get my mama and Uncle Buddy some land of their own. They wouldn’t have to live in that piece of crap trailer park and paying way too much money for not enough land.

  “So this is the goblin kingdom?” Miriam whispers beside me.

  Her eyes are scanning our surrounding. She must notices the same thing I did. It doesn’t look good for us.

  “I’m starting to miss those woods.” I couldn’t help but agree with her. Being in this village feels final. Out there in the woods there was always hope that we would stumble upon a savior. But locked here, hidden behind a mountain, feels like walking into a prison cell after a life sentence.

  Hemrock led us to a stone building at the end of the busy street we entered on. He pushes us into a small room with shackles hooked into a wall. Other goblins were there, bustling around the room looking at us as if we were imposing.

  “There you are Hemrock. Nice catch.” Says a goblin covered in gemstones. He wore them around his neck, on his fingers, in his shoes and around his wrist. He looked like a stereotype of a pimp. I could tell from his haughty demeanor and his clean attire that he must be one of the wealthy in this village. I knew all about that look. Growing up in my town being not only a biracial child but also from a trailer park, I got a lot of people that looked down their nose at me.

  “The goblin king will get the first choice, obviously, but he is only in need of a bather.” The rich goblin walks down the line of us, looking at us with hungry yet disgusted eyes. He stops at Hugan and says, “Some of them you could have thrown back.”

  “They will all catch a good few rubies, Wormmill. Even the old goat. I’m sure the Doc could use another body for dissecting.” Laya whimpers beside her grandfather. Wormmill’s eyes turn to her appraising her with interest.

  “I think I want this one. How much for the immortal child.” The goblin’s beady eyes spark with interest. I remember Hemrock saying that goblins didn’t want non-goblins for sexual purposes, but the disgusting look on this goblin’s face leads me to believe maybe he has a taste beyond the goblin females.

  “The goblin king gets first pick.” Hemrock says, as he fills out papers. For some reason that seems odd to me. I can’t imagine these hideous, cruel creatures caring about things like paper work, but I guess how else someone would keep up with their slaves.

  “Besides, the girl is more the king’s type.”

  Wormmill seems to agree with that and move on in his perusal. He rakes over Mora, the amazon, with no interest. Then he comes to Hyland and sneers. When his beady eyes rest on Miriam that interested look comes back and then they land on me and he smiles.

  “You,” He says. “The king wouldn’t want you. You’re too old for one of his whores and too skinny to be of good use elsewhere. But, you will do nicely for me.”

  “Careful, Wormmill,” Hemrock warns, finishing up his paper work. �
��That one bites.”

  To prove a point I narrow my eyes at the goblin and he steps away from me. I almost smile at his reaction, until I hear.

  “Then she is more my type.” This goblin is one of the tallest I’ve seen. He must be about 4’11’’ close to five feet. He has inky dark hair and a goatee. He too has that excessive gemstone look, but his jewels are gaudier than Wormmill’s. I didn’t have to see the look on Bevel’s face to know that this goblin is trouble. His pitch black eyes and evil sneer is proof enough that I did not want to end up with this guy. Whereas Wormmill may have had some vulgar ideas in mind for me, this goblin looked as if torture is his forte.

  “What do you say, Hemrock?” the tall goblin ask without taking his eyes off me. He reaches for me, but I jerk away from him causing my chains to rattle in the quiet room. His raspy laugh follows. “Two Rubies for the elf fella and two diamonds for the girl.”

  Miriam tenses beside me and I reach for her shackled hand.

  “Two diamonds?” Hemrock stumbles over the words and I’m guessing that’s a lot.

  “Brother, we should let the King get first choice.” Bevel adds, trying to come to my rescue.

  “Silence, Bevel.” Hemrock scolds him. “What the king don’t know won’t hurt him. Now, Malinchi, let’s talk payment.”

  “We can’t get separated, Lilly.” Miriam whispers towards me.

  I already knew that. I needed to stay with Miriam. Although this is bad, I’m pretty sure landing in the Dark King’s hands would be so much worse.

  “Do not fear.” Hyland says behind us. His voice is as low as ours. “As long as he takes me with her, I will protect her. It is you I am worried about.” Hyland clearly didn’t know why we were so paranoid. I did like that he was concerned for Miriam. Miriam does too because her milky white skin turns pink.

  “Then we have a deal?” Malinchi is saying.

  “Absolutely.”