by Emma Hamm
“Where are we?” She asked.
Ruric reached down to unpeel the hand that had been clutching his forearm. He flexed his fingers, willing blood back into the limb that was starting to tingle now.
“Below.”
It was what they called the larger cave. There had been many months spent carving this space. The walls were decorated with large spirals that swirled around the stones that were embedded in it. He thought it beautiful. His eyes strayed towards her to see whether she thought the same.
“My people would kill for these stones.” She whispered.
He nodded in response. “We have seen.”
She looked up at him. The tone of his voice was different than she had heard before. If it was possible for her to see some kind of emotion, some kind of thought in those bottomless eyes, it was sadness that lingered in them now.
“I am sorry for the one you lost.”
He glanced down at her with an unreadable expression before inclining his head.
It was not an acceptance of her apology, even she could see that. But perhaps it was an acceptance that it had to happen. Or even that it wasn’t her fault. Jane had never spoken to him about the accident, nor had she ever admitted that she had nothing to do with it.
For some strange reason she hoped he did not blame her for it.
The queen was helped to the throne. This time when she spoke, the lyrical words flowed through the cave with a strength that echoed around them. Whatever she said took longer than the ceremony had and the goblins cheered much louder. The fanfare for their queen was obvious, as was their love and respect for her.
The cave continued to fill as she spoke until Jane’s back was pressed against Ruric’s chest and her front pressed against two other goblins backs. It was unnerving to be so close to so many flashing teeth and clicking claws. But she found she was not as nervous as before. Perhaps the walk down here had done something to calm her, their acceptance of her making her realize that these people now saw her as one of their own. She was no longer the outsider.
The drum beats started again as the queen stopped talking. The sound rocked through the goblins around her, some swaying to the music others disappearing out of the cave once more.
“What did she say?” She asked Ruric, craning her neck to see the large creature behind her.
It was odd that in only a few weeks she was slowly getting used to the goblins. She thought it likely that she would never see them as human. But she no longer flinched from them when they stood behind her, nor did she mind the feel of them against her skin.
“Feast. Dance. Celebrate.” He said with a smile.
“Sounds like good rules to live by.”
“They are. You must be hungry.” A hand was held out for her once more, the usual gesture she was coming to expect from him.
However when she turned with a frown, she was surprised by his action. Lifting his hand, he softly drew his thumb up the creases between her eyebrows. It eased the line, forcing her forehead to relax and her thoughts to soothe.
He pulled her forward, leaving her tangled thoughts to be unwoven later. The movement had been so familiar, as though he understood her confusion at her sudden comfort here. The warrior she would never have expected to understand feelings at all seemed to understand them a great deal. Perhaps it was simply these people and their way of life. They all seemed much more intune to emotions, more caring to others.
Food was set up for the goblins to pick at. Most of it was draped across makeshift tables. There were a few stragglers that were still placing food on their plates. She recognized the fish Ruric seemed to like, as well as a few oddly shaped lumps of breads and lumps of what looked like weeds.
It wasn’t much, but it was clear that they all had worked very hard to gather it.
Jane didn’t feel like eating, not with all the strange things going through her head. But she could feel the expectant eyes against the back of her neck. The entire grouping of goblins hoped that she would like what they had done.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as the queen was guided to the table. She was propped up against another goblin, though she made her choices on her own. It seemed as though the females always ate first, the males eating after.
At a feast this large it seemed needless to her. But she quickly grabbed one of the thin slate slabs they seemed to use to carry food around and piled on what she could.
If her instincts were right, whatever she grabbed now was what Ruric was going to be eating. The man was twice her size and built like a sandcat that used to prey on the horses they had outside the mines. He needed a lot more food than she did.
Much of what she had seen was less than appetizing. The green looking weeds seemed the safest, even if they were glistening with a bit of slime. She took one bite, smiled and nodded even though she was trying desperately to not spit the mouthful back onto the plate.
It was salty, chewy, and slimey. The combination was not enjoyable. It appeared that one bite was enough in this instance; hopefully Ruric would like it as well. The rest of the goblin horde descended upon the food with speed.
Thank goodness they at least had bread. It was doughy and not fully cooked, but it was something that she recognized and knew she could eat.
“Humans cooked that.”
The rumble from behind her was familiar.
She turned to look at Ruric, raising a brow at his words.
“Humans?”
“Workers. They cook sometimes.”
“I had wondered where you were keeping the others.” She shook her head. “Somehow I doubt you gathered humans from the tunnels just to kill them. What do you do with them?”
She was whispering in her head over and over, please don’t say you eat them. She was just starting to like these creatures. Finding out that they were eating her species would be too much.
“We eat them.”
Oh god, they ate them. Of course they did. She was waiting for this moment and now it was here. She paled quickly, her stomach heaving against the unknown food and the knowledge that everyone who had arrived with her was going to end up in these creatures stomachs. At least the things on her plate were recognizable.
And then she heard the beginnings of his laughter. She looked at him and saw the head bob they all did. He was laughing at her! She was quick to realize that he had been teasing her and she had fallen right into his hands.
“You are cruel.” She said.
He only laughed all the harder, tossing his head back while his chin jerked up and down.
“And not funny at all!” Jane was trying to hide a smile as she said it though.
He didn’t seem to mind, managing to stop laughing long enough to reach forward and peel off a piece of fish from her plate. A long thin tongue snaked out to slurp it from his fingers, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight.
“You goblins are disgusting.”
“We are goblins. Humans are animals.” He replied flippantly, giving her a wink that he must have seen from one of the miners before weaving his way off through the crowd.
Of course he left her with the plate and no way to speak to any of the goblins around her. It seemed as though men did not change no matter what species they were. She had a very clear memory of a young man doing exactly this to her at one of the parties hidden behind the sand dunes Above.
She felt a soft touch on her sleeve, and was surprised to look down and see the queen.
The creature’s hands were different than the other goblins. She hadn’t noticed until now that the nails were completely gone from her hands. Instead there were merely callouses where they should have been. Jane was curious to know if this was another trait of the females or if it was merely old age that had caused the nails to fall off.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language yet.”
The word “yet” slipped in so easily. She didn’t know when she had decided to give learning their language
a try, even though she couldn’t hear all the tones. It even hurt to admit that she was curious about it. But her subconscious knew that she was going to be here for a while.
A smile crossed the queen’s face, creasing the already wrinkled skin. She hardly looked humanoid at all now that she was this old. Jane could clearly see the different shape of her skull and the protrusions of cheekbones that didn’t exactly line up with human.
The queen reached forward, gently pressing her calloused hands against Jane’s cheeks. There were a few words said, though Jane had no way of knowing what she meant. Lost, Jane shook her head and tried to smile back at the curved and aged creature.
The hand traveled down her cheek, following the lines of knots across her shoulder and down her arm until she reached her hand. There something was pressed firmly into the palm, another sharp toothed grin given to her before the old woman toddled away again. Jane wondered how she managed to get around like that. Her gait was uncomfortable to even watch.
Age could cast an unassuming veil over great things. She had a feeling this woman had been magnificent in her time.
A hand rested gently against the base of her spine, and as strange as it was she did not flinch or jump. Even in just this short amount of time she was starting to get used to these goblins touching her. She wasn’t sure if there had been a moment after the ceremony when she had not had at least one hand on her that wasn’t her own.
“Open your hand.”
She recognized Ruric’s voice, and turned to look at him. “Oh you’re back already?”
“Spoke with Micah. Open your hand, Jane.”
Following orders had never been a trait she had inherited. But she did as he asked, looking down to see the crystal that lay in her palm. It was, by standards of what she had seen so far, rather plain.
Black and clear, there was a small hint of blue in its center. It looked like the walls they had chipped away in the mines. Nothing overly special, but pretty none the same.
“It is called Nightbearer.” He said quietly. His claws gently hooked the string running through the stone, drawing it out of her palm and over her hair. “Only found in the deepest of caves.”
He was getting better with his language. She had a feeling he had spent a long time trying to figure out how to explain the meaning of this stone.
“Is this your doing?”
A thrum rumbled deep in his throat as he inclined his head towards her.
“Thank you, Ruric.” Like the others, she was now honored with the one thing that the goblins seemed to have plenty of.
If a goblin could blush, he did so then. His cheeks turned mottled green.
She had no way of knowing how important the stones were to the goblins. As any human likely would have, she simply kept it slid over her head. It was not a question whether or not she would do so. A crystal was nothing more important than anything else, perhaps only in that it was beautiful. To the goblins, the crystals were an acceptance of a relationship. It was an acknowledgement that Ruric would protect and provide for her. And that in return, she would allow him to do so.
Ruric knew this. He also knew that there was very little chance that she knew what she had done by accepting it. Humans did not have the same customs as goblins. But he could hope that at some point she would understand. That someday her quick actions would hold meaning.
He watched over her for the rest of the night, dark eyes following her movements. The other goblins were infatuated with her. Jane was very patient with them, not complaining when they tugged at her hair or hands. They were curious and Ruric thought she understood that.
Much had changed since she was kneeling before the queen. He shuddered to think what would have happened if she had been sent deep into those mines with the other humans.
The humans were worked hard. Miners at the core, they did their job well under the tutelage of the goblins. Ruric had trained them himself a few times, though he did not care for the work.
In his experience, the miners had been taught a certain way and they didn’t want to change. Goblins were viewed as nothing more than animals, dogs that they could spit and swear at. Many a miner had been killed for this behavior. They were volatile and frequently violent.
Ruric rarely looked at it as the same behavior he would have exhibited if he were captured. To the goblins, humans were little more than animals as well. Two species who did not have high opinions of each other were never going to make peace.
But this woman, this beacon of golden light, did not appear to see the goblins the way the miners did. She had in the beginning. Even he knew that when she started bathing in front of him it was not because she trusted him. She allowed him to dress her because she thought of him the same way someone would a pet.
Three weeks and she was starting to understand their ways. She was slowly adjusting to the differences between their peoples. There were moments when he saw frustration dance across her features. But she always seemed to pull it together at the very last moment.
As far as brides went, he was a very lucky goblin.
“Congratulations.”
He looked to his right, unease making him shift. Dumar was the only court member who continually left a bad taste in Ruric’s mouth.
“My thanks to you.” He inclined his head, a motion he hated to do for the other goblin. The man did not deserve the respect.
“She is a feisty one, is she not?” Dumar asked.
“She is learning our ways. The humans have different opinions.”
“Perhaps.” Dumar crossed his arms, the smile on his face making Ruric uncomfortable. “The council has a message for you.”
Ruric gritted his teeth. He could hardly ignore a message from the council, no matter how much of a favorite he was of the queen.
“Human gestation period is nine months. We shall give you twelve. If there is no child at that point, she will be given to another. If she still fails to produce a hybrid, she will go to the mines with the rest of them and we will deem this experiment a failure.”
“What?” He could not contain the snapped word, the anger in his voice evident even to those around them. A few goblins took a step away from them.
“Are you questioning the council?” Dumar asked, a gleam in his eye making Ruric realize that he needed to tread carefully. He could say no and risk punishment from the council. Or he could agree to it and do his best to ensure that there was some kind of possibility for children.
He knew Jane was not going to like this. If she found out, she would use this as fuel for her twisted view of his species. In that moment, he decided he would never tell her this. Not unless he was forced to do so. Her trust was too fragile.
So he inclined his head towards the other goblin, barely contained rage making him shake.
“As the council wishes.”
It was the most that he would ever bow to Dumar, and it was clear to him that the other goblin was enjoying the right to bask in that knowledge.
He could not ask her to leave the celebration. They were meant to stay until the last goblin left. This ceremony was a gift to them and a way to show Jane to the rest of the tribe. They should have enjoyed what was given to them and the work that the others had put into it. However now he knew the real agenda here.
He had been foolish to believe that his people could truly be pleased for him. The highest of their warriors, the commander of their military, and yet they were only interested in the hybrid. The well wishes were for themselves, for the hope for their species.
Perhaps it was selfish of him to want at least one of them to be happy for him.
Ruric had never been in the running to have a bride. He was too large and too aggressive to be considered a good match for any of their females. They were weak and fragile. It was why many of the goblins that were now being born were thin pale creatures.He was the odd goblin among the now smaller norm.
In that way, he and Jane were similar.
&nb
sp; Suddenly the other goblins around him seemed different. They were not interested in either of them. They were interested in what this union meant. He and Jane were nothing more than the night’s entertainment.
When their hands lingered on her, he saw it now for what it was. Curiosity yes, but a morbid kind that was wondering what parts of her would remain and what wouldn’t.
Muscles tense, he moved towards her. Ruric was unusually attuned to where she was. Perhaps it was that she was so weak that he felt as though he needed to protect her more than the others. He refused to consider that he was growing fond of the stubborn and unusual human that had been thrust into his care.
“Jane.” His hand scooped underneath her elbow. The other goblins squawked complaints as his big body forced space between them and her.
“Ruric.” She replied, an eyebrow arching at him.
He had meant to be kind to her. Meant to be a shoulder for her to lean upon. That was his duty as a male. He was finding that it was difficult not to grab her, toss her over his shoulder, and make the choices for her.
“Would you like to leave?”
Even he could tell that he was mispronouncing words. He knew how to say those words. He had practiced those in the beginning and had never had issues with most of them.
The crease between her brows was back, the lines making his fingers itch to smooth them. “Is something wrong?”
It did not bode well for him that she could read him that easily. This woman was going to be the death of him. Here he was thinking that he would be given a bride that would be beautiful and quiet like the female goblins he had seen once in his life. She was anything but that.
Jane was wiggling her way into his soul. Like one of the parasitic creatures that lived in the waters deep in the caves, she had her teeth sunk into him already.
Yet he still held out his hand for her to take. She would always be given a choice with him. No matter how much he wanted to take control, it was her right as a female.