As if sensing my scrutiny, he shifted his gaze to me for a moment, then back to his father. Not long enough for me to decipher what he might be thinking.
King Starshooter waved his hand, magic carrying his voice through the crowd as he started to speak.
“Good people of Gob Hollow, it is with great pleasure we gather here this night. Not only do we choose six brave goblins to go on the Mission, but we also bring forth the names of those who will participate in the Choosing Ceremony this year.”
Applause and cheers erupted.
“He says Choosing Ceremony like it’s a good thing.” Pudge jabbed me in the ribs. “Luckily our fathers won’t toss us to the wolves.”
I chuckled. We weren’t seventeen yet, and I couldn’t see Father or Councilor Wayfarer throwing our names in with the others. “At least not until next year.” Already, a female behind us sobbed. Poor girl—she wouldn’t have a choice.
The king raised his hands to hush the people once more. “It has been a decade and a half since the last Mission, but now we shall test our younglings as we did in days past. Much thought and discussion has gone into deciding who the six goblins will be. Not only have we evaluated their skills, but we have talked to others who know them and vouch for their integrity, strength, and courage.”
I wondered who’d vouch for my integrity. Crap, I hoped they hadn’t asked Headmistress Kimblay.
Everyone grew quiet. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for my entire sixteen years. Clutching tight to Pudge, I took a staggered breath, pulse pounding in my ears.
“The first name chosen for the Mission is my son, Dorian Starshooter.”
Cheers rang through the square as Dorian took his place next to his father, accepting a bronze armband. He smiled, bowing to the crowd.
“The next name is Beaurick Smithy.”
Of course. He was one of Dorian’s closest companions. I glanced around, wondering who the other four would be.
“Percivious Blackiron.” Another one of Dorian’s friends moved to the dais. But I could barely hear over the thud in my chest. What if they didn’t choose me? Or what if they did? Hag, it was almost too much to consider either option.
“Cray Guardsman,” the king called the fourth name. Two more spots.
King Starshooter scanned the King’s Council next to him, then the people of Gob Hollow. I squeezed my eyes shut, aware of only Pudge’s grip on my hand.
“And our last two members for the Mission are Barthe Dundry and Vane Girt.”
Birdie’s older brother and my mortal enemy.
“What?” I said. How could they choose Vane? I was better than him. No, something wasn’t right. My name should’ve been called.
Was this because I was a female? Sure, they allowed females to train as soldiers, but none had ever been chosen to go on a Mission. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t full-blooded? I’d been training with the King’s Guard, unlike some of the others. This wasn’t how this was supposed to play out.
My mind reeled. The goblins chosen for the Missions were granted favor and recognized as heroes in the kingdom. They were also more likely to find a place within the higher ranks, some as bodyguards at the palace, others within the council. I needed the Mission. Without it, I’d have no way to prove myself.
My father wouldn’t meet my gaze—nor would Dorian.
“What a load of hogwash,” Pudge snarled. “No way is Barthe or Vane worth two shit cakes in a gutter. They’ve made a mistake.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to cry. Not in front of them. “This isn’t happening,” I said. But it was.
Pudge put an arm around me. “Sorry. I know how much you wanted to go.”
“S’okay.” Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. Piss off, it wasn’t okay. I’d spent every spare moment training for this. Learning to wield a sword and take on opponents twice my size. I delved into the histories with Father. What would I do with my life now? Everything I’d ever done had been in hopes of going on a Mission or being able to take my place as the next Advisor to the King—because in order to do that, you had to do something spectacular to get noticed.
“High Councilor Archer will call out the names for the Choosing Ceremony,” King Starshooter said. “Remember the candidates must be seventeen to enter their own name; however, families may elect to place their sixteen-year-olds into the ceremony. Once a name is placed, it cannot be removed.”
My father stood, robes swishing at his legs. “I welcome you to this night of celebration and good fortune. For centuries, our people have gathered in this very spot to keep with tradition. To guide our children and loved ones for the next step in their lives. Not only is the Choosing Ceremony about the arranging of marriages, but it is also the time when we step into our adulthood. And I’ll remind all who are chosen this night that your lives begin here and now.”
He glanced at the King’s Council first, then at the king, who nodded for him to proceed.
“As High Councilor and Advisor to the king, it is my honor to speak the first name for the Choosing Ceremony. I offer my daughter, Lady Ivy Archer.”
Shock spiraled through my veins, and my legs wobbled beneath me. I was being punished. The Archives had been the breaking point. The King’s Council smiled at one another, and Father’s face hardened as he looked at me.
Pudge clutched me against him. “Ivy, it’s okay. I promise it’ll be okay.”
Councilor Wayfarer came forward next. “I offer the name of my son, Pudgeons Wayfarer, for the Choosing Ceremony.”
Pudge went still. “Aw, Hag. We pissed ’em off good this time.”
I stood silent, leaning against my best friend, wondering if I’d wake up from the nightmare. Father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I never thought he’d put me into the Choosing Ceremony. That he’d force me to leave our home before I turned seventeen.
More names were called. Then the Dundry councilors came forward. “We wish to place the name of our daughter, Birdie Dundry, into the Choosing.”
Scanning the crowd, I found her standing at the opposite end of the dais, her hair knotted on her head and gown altered to be more formfitting. When she saw me staring, she sneered.
Then a familiar voice brought me back to reality. “I, Prince Dorian, enter my own name in the Choosing Ceremony.” He exchanged a look with the council, his father, and my father. And I knew my life was over.
He’d entered his name right after Birdie’s family said hers. He wanted to marry her. Why else would he have added his name? Unless, of course, his father had pushed him to do so. How could he pick someone like her? Even if I wanted to remain friends with him, there’d be no way Birdie would allow it. My vision blurred, and a sob lodged in my throat. Pudge led me out of the crowd as Vane’s name got thrown into the pot as well.
“C’mon, let’s get away from here,” Pudge said. He pushed people out of our way, making a path to the far corner of the square. He didn’t stop until we sat beneath the familiar white oak trees where we took our meals during school.
“What am I going to do?” I cried, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.
Pudge stared at his rope, then back at me. “I won’t let someone horrible marry you, Ivy.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah. We made a pact, remember?” he teased.
“We were five.”
“But it still stands. I know I’m not great by any means, and you could do a lot better.”
Pudge had no idea how perfect he was in my eyes. He was not only my best friend but someone who always stood by me. Maybe he could learn to love me.
“Pudge, if in two months we’re on the dais, waiting to be paired, I promise to let you speak up for me.”
He shivered. “Yeah, with Vane and Birdie both in the Choosing, we don’t need any nightmarish possibilities. I pity whoever gets stuck wit
h them.”
I hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. “Tonight was a disaster. I can’t believe I thought they’d let me go on the Mission.”
Pudge stroked my hair tenderly. “They’ll regret it.”
“But how will I prove myself now? I want to be High Advisor to the next king.” Missions didn’t just come along every year. If they decided to do another one, it’d likely not be until Dorian had children. By then, I’d be married and a mother to children of my own. Too old for consideration to go on a Mission. Damn it.
“We’ll figure it out.” His warm breath fanned against my face, and I turned to look at him.
My insides rattled like they’d been shaken up. I raised my fingers to touch his cheek. It felt nice having him hold me, like it centered me. Not that I’d tell him that. At last, he released me.
In the distance, goblins laughed and danced as musicians took the place of the council on the stage. Flower petals littered the stone walks while a great bonfire was lit in the square. The scent of baked goods, pipe smoke, and turkey legs filled the air. Congratulations and hellos were offered around in hearty voices. But Pudge and I just sat there.
Dorian stepped out from the shadows. “Excuse me. Might I have a moment alone with Ivy?”
Pudge glanced between the two of us. “Sure. I’ll find you later,” he said before leaving.
Wiping my hands on my skirts, I stood staring at Dorian. I knew the right thing to do, but the words almost choked me. “Um—congratulations on the Mission.”
He touched my arm. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. I really did put a good word in for you. Hag knows you’re better with weapons than anyone they chose.”
“But I’m a halfer.” I shrugged.
“No, it wasn’t because of that.” Dorian’s eyes looked troubled. “It’s my fault you didn’t get picked. When our fathers told me to make sure the council caught us together, I should’ve told them no.”
The air became thick, my breathing ragged. “Wh—what?”
It all made sense now. His sudden appearance in the Archives that night, his not showing up at school earlier in the evening, the exchanged looks between our fathers and the council.
“Ivy, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Sorry? That’s all you can say?” Fury raged through my body, and my hands trembled at my sides as I fisted them into my dress. “You cost me the Mission. And you made a fool of me. I—I thought you were different. That we were friends. But you’re just like the rest of them.”
He reached for me, but I stepped back. “Wait,” he said. “Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Not what I think? You put your name into the Choosing right after Birdie’s name was mentioned. You embraced me on purpose so we’d get caught because our fathers didn’t want me to go on the Mission. Why didn’t they just say they didn’t want me to go? Why go through all the theatrics of letting me believe I had a chance? Am I missing anything?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “There is a lot of political stuff going on behind the scenes, Ivy. They’re forcing Father’s hand in some of it. But Archer and Father are also playing their own games. Just please hear me out. They wanted the council to think they had the upper hand—”
“No, you hear me. I may be a half-blood, but I would never treat someone the way you treated me. So you can take the Mission and shove it up your royal arse.” I shouldered past him, running into the shadows and away from the blasted ceremonies.
It was my own fault. I never should’ve trusted him. The only goblins I could count on were myself and Pudge.
Blinded by tears, I raced toward the gate—only to be stopped by a guard.
Chapter Six
Amos spun me around to face him.
“What did I—”
“Come with me,” he said. His grip tightened, tugging me through the crowd.
It took me a moment to realize we were headed toward the barracks at the edge of the palace grounds. Releasing my arm, Amos pushed through the heavy wooden door, and we entered the main corridor. Lanterns hung on hooks along the wall leading toward the mess hall and sleeping quarters.
We made our way down to the dining area, and Amos ushered me in. Several benches and tables were spread throughout the room, and a large stone fireplace dominated the back corner, flames dancing against the dimness. Captain Bushwell and Sergeant Daggard stood when they saw us.
A lump formed in my throat as I stared at the three of them. I’d let them down. They’d put so many hours into training me, running me through drills.
“I’m sorry they didn’t pick you, Ivy.” Amos kicked at a bench. “The council is made up of fools. Their choices had more to do with politics than talent and experience.”
Taking a deep breath, I wiped the tears from my face. “My father’s on the council, too.”
“Which means they must’ve made some type of deal with him to keep you from the Mission,” Amos grumbled.
My fists clenched. My jaw tightened as I stared at the sword and shield hanging above the mantel. The council. They ruined everything.
I screamed, my fist connecting with the nearest table, sending shocks of pain up my arm. “All my training was for nothing.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Captain Bushwell said. “Your life is more than this Mission.”
“But I’ll never be anything now.”
Amos left the room and, a moment later, came back holding a tunic and pair of breeches. “Get changed, then meet us behind the barracks,” he said.
The three of them left, shutting the door behind them, and I ripped my horrid costume off and tossed it in the fireplace. The flames leapt like hungry jaws and devoured the dress. A plume of smoke flitted up, like the hearth had burped.
I slid the tunic over my head and tugged the breeches on. A sense of familiarity washed over me, as if the soldier’s uniform welcomed me home.
Once changed, I headed out back to find Amos waiting inside the practice grounds. A wooden fence ran the length of the training area. Rows of wooden posts with pegs attached, which were used to simulate the enemy, lined part of the yard. Boulders, trees, carts, partial walls, and even fences stood as obstacles for the soldiers to train on. More times than I’d like to count, I had faced this course. I frowned. None of it had done me any good. Not the rope climbing or the wall jumping or even the sword fights.
Amos waved me over with the weapon in his hands, and I trudged toward him.
“Forget about everything, Ivy. The Mission. The Choosing Ceremony. This is all that matters.” He handed me a sword. “If you want to be great, then you have to believe you are. What happened out there doesn’t matter,” he said. “Only these do.” Amos held up his sword, touching the handle to his heart.
“Heart and sword,” I whispered, clutching the hilt of my blade and drawing it to my chest in salute. Beneath my fist, the drum of my pulse pounded an ancient rhythm, reminding me what I wanted to be.
“That’s all a true warrior needs. And you’ve got both.” Amos lifted his weapon. “Now get your arse in position. We’re going to burn off some of that anger.”
True to his word, Amos put me through the rounds. My mind focused on dodging and striking and rolling. When I was on the offensive, I’d strike, and when on the defensive, I’d parry and block. For hours, we went back and forth, and I let the evening’s travesties drift from my mind, getting lost in the one thing I knew—training.
A while later, Cook barged through the gate. “Thank the Hag. I’ve been looking everywhere for ye.” She hurried toward me. “Should’ve known ye’d come here.”
Amos’s leg connected with my chest, sending me to the ground. A groan escaped my lips.
“Rule one: don’t lose concentration.” He leaned down to help me back up. “Even if it is the most feared woman in Gob Hollow coming to get you.�
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Seeing Cook made me feel small again. Like any moment, she’d come bandage me up and I’d be all better. But I knew this was one thing she couldn’t fix. Retrieving my sword, I handed it to Captain Bushwell, who patted me on the shoulder.
“Thought she could use a distraction after the blasted announcements.” Amos handed me a cloth to wipe my face.
Cook nodded. “Thanks for watching after her. And ye”—she turned toward me—“don’t ye go worrying about that King’s Council. They’re nothing but a bunch of eejits. Everybody knows yer the one they should’ve picked.”
Fighting back a sob, I rushed forward and hugged Cook. Her wide arms covered me like a warm blanket. “Nothing worked out how I thought it would.”
“Things hardly ever do, Ivy girl. Now come along. Yer father said we’re staying at the palace quarters tonight. Too many drunken gobs running about for us to be walking through the village.”
I nodded, then turned to Amos. “Thanks.”
He touched a fisted hand to his chest. “My pleasure.”
Cook and I headed toward the palace. “Ivy girl, don’t think I’ve forgotten about that tattoo of yers. Ye need to sit down and talk to yer father about it.”
I sighed. “Not tonight. I’m drained after all this.”
“Then soon. This isn’t something to just sit on, ye hear?”
Two guards met us at the door. Another four walked along the upper wall, crossbows in hand, while several others stood in the towers. They waved us through. Torches burned bright along the stone walls, casting elongated shadows across the floor and ceiling. Our footsteps echoed off the rocks, making it sound as if someone followed us. We trudged up three flights of stairs before arriving at our apartment.
When I opened the door, I found Pudge sitting at a small table, chomping down on a bowl of steaming innards.
Where There Be Humans Page 6