What did they suspect the council was up to that they had to resort to private meetings? I knew the king might have the final say, but the council was powerful, too. Did they truly believe they might overthrow the Starshooters? And how could I not have known things were this bad? Glancing to my side, I caught Pudge’s eye. His brow furrowed, and I knew he was as worried as me.
“I’m not sure we should be stringing Ivy along,” Cook spoke up. “She deserves to know the truth.”
The king turned to my father. “What say you, Archer? You know her better than any.”
“We need to consider the kingdom first,” he said without hesitation. “In the end, Ivy will get what she desires most.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact. I was a tool in a game I didn’t understand. And everyone in the room had no qualms about using me.
My hand fisted against the door, and the urge to barge in overwhelmed me.
“Still think ye should be honest—she’s going to be right pissed off when she finds out she’s been manipulated.” Cook charged across the room like a warship heading off to battle.
I wanted to hug her. At least she cared.
“Ivy will understand,” Father said.
The king glanced around the table. “The choices we’ve made are for the greater good. And sometimes this means people get hurt.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pudge whispered in my ear, his breath fanning my cheek.
“That we’re pawns. The question is, what are they using us for?”
The king glanced at Honour. “We still need to discuss the cargo you’ll be delivering for us.”
Honour grinned. “No one knows it’s been loaded onto the ship. My crew is discreet. I’ll make sure it’s delivered safely to the elves.”
Elves? What could they be giving them? Up until seven years ago, we’d been at war with them.
“And you’re sure it will be secure enough?” King Starshooter asked. “These signed documents are important—if a treaty’s to be made…”
“What of the Hag’s Crest?” Amos asked. “Will you still have the younglings search it out? After all, isn’t that the believed purpose of the Mission?”
“Yes,” the king replied, nodding, “because if we can retrieve the lost artifact, we’ll have the means to heal our people, should we truly go to war.”
Cook shook her head. “No one knows what the crest can do, yer highness. It might be best leaving it well enough alone.”
“Perhaps, but with the new information about its whereabouts, we chance letting it fall into the wrong hands.”
Just then, Pudge sneezed. Gripping his arm, I jerked him toward the stairs. I heard the sound of chairs scraping across the floor, then watched as Honour poked his head out of the room. I gave a small wave, and he grinned. A moment later, the door to the Great Hall slammed shut.
“Couldn’t you have held it?” I asked, realizing Grr wasn’t behind us anymore. Where had he run off to?
“Sorry.” He shrugged. “Do you think they knew we were listening the whole time?”
“Not until you blew your nose on the wall. Hopefully your brother will take care of that for us.” I took the stairs two at a time. When I flung my door open, I found Grr standing on my bed, waiting. “How did you get up here?” And how did he know which room was mine?
The dog jumped down, nearly knocking me over. His claws clicked on the wooden boards. Firelight flickered from the hearth, and I stared at the table near the window set up with food.
“You didn’t tell me dinner was waiting.” Pudge hurried to sit down. “I’m starving.”
“Seriously? Is that all you think about? We just witnessed a secret meeting with hidden political agendas, and you’re worried about your blasted stomach.”
“Sorry, I’m really hungry today.” Pudge opened the lid on the cast-iron pot and sighed. “Ummh, stuffed sausage.” He pulled the tops from the other two pans to reveal cabbage and potatoes. Serving spoon in hand, he dished himself a plate-load of food. “I think I’ve entered the Heavenly Realm.”
I snorted. “Honestly?”
Pudge stabbed a large, juicy sausage with his fork. “Wouldn’t kill you to be positive now and then, you know.”
As he brought the meat toward his mouth, Grr lunged and snapped it up. Pudge jumped from his seat, knocking over his chair, but the food was already gone.
“That’s it. That’s the second time you’ve taken my food.” He dove at the dog and missed, hitting the floor like a load of rocks.
Grr stared at him, tail wagging and mouth pulled back so his teeth showed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was smiling.
Pudge scrambled to his feet, racing across the room. Next thing I knew, he was lunging toward the dog again. This time, Grr bumped into the table, knocking it over. Pans clanged to the floor, and the wooden plates and bowls rolled around.
The door flew open. And there stood Cook, hands on hips, switch in hand. Her eyes widened when she spotted Grr.
“Get that mange-infested dog out—now.”
I gulped. “Cook, I can’t.”
“Don’t ye tell me ye can’t. That monster’s not allowed in here.”
Grr growled, then padded across the room. He lifted his leg, peeing on Cook’s boots and gown. A puddle formed at her feet, and her face turned a shade darker than death.
“I’m going to turn that mutt into a purse.” Cook snatched a pan from the floor, wielding it like a weapon.
“Wait!” I put myself between them. Heart racing, I reached down and held up his collar. “He’s from the Hag. Look. Here’s the symbol—the same as my tattoo.”
Stopping short, Cook went pale as she examined the collar. Then she crossed herself. “Another sign. Ivy, ye need to come with me. I think it’s time to talk to yer father.”
A cold draft brushed against my arm, and I shivered. Then pain seared between my shoulders—the same pain I’d felt there before.
“I can’t talk to him, not yet. He’s busy with his meeting.”
“This isn’t something petty we’re dealing with. And if we ignore the Hag, we’ll likely get struck down.”
“I know,” I said. Not that my tattoo wasn’t important, but it sounded like my father had enough going on right now.
Cook’s mouth tightened; she looked unconvinced. “Ye’ve put this off long enough.”
“Can’t we at least wait until after the Sending Off tomorrow? You know, in a more private setting?” I had the feeling I needed to wait. Every time it was mentioned that I talk to Father, my tattoo would burn or I’d feel a cold sensation electrify the air around me. No. It was better for me to be cautious.
Cook grumbled something under her breath, then shook her head at me. “Fine, but ye will be talking soon. Now get this mess cleaned up.” She pointed at the puddle on the floor. “And I better not hear another peep out of any of ye.” She glared. “That goes for the dog, too. Hag or no Hag, we’re not to be interrupted again.”
When she left, we cleaned up, then sat at the table in silence. Joking aside, I needed to know what was going on and soon. Two signs from the Hag and now the secret meetings in our Great Hall could only mean one thing. Trouble.
Chapter Ten
Cook piled leftover sausage onto my plate, and I wrinkled my nose.
“We’re having this again?” I picked up my fork and pushed the food around.
“Don’t ye be giving me lip,” she threatened, swinging a spoon in the air. “My cooking didn’t bother anyone when I worked at the palace.”
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to her to bring up her glory days of serving the royal family.
“So why did you take a job with Father, then?”
She grinned. “Well, somebody had to make sure ye got a proper meal.”
Father exchanged a glance with her, then turned his at
tention to me. “Shouldn’t your hair be pulled up? I don’t know why you always try to hide your ears.”
Oh, Hag, I didn’t need this now. Of course he’d say something about it being down. He hated that it hid my pointed ears, one of the few things that proved I was at least half goblin.
Maybe I should just get it over with and tell him about the tattoo.
I opened my mouth to speak, but a sharp pain between my shoulder blades stopped me.
“Because it’s not in style.” Cook came to my rescue. “A lot of the younglings her age leave it down.”
Father narrowed his eyes but said nothing more on the subject.
When we finished our meal, he escorted us out the door and toward the docks for the Sending Off. Already the streets bustled with people eager to get a good spot for the processional that would wind through Gob Hollow and down to the docks.
The female goblins carried baskets of flower petals to toss at the feet of those going on the Mission, while men held small drums they would beat when the parade went by. A lump swelled in my throat as I choked back tears.
This should’ve been my moment.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Father offered his arm and maneuvered me through the crowd with Cook close behind us.
“There’s nothing to say,” I said.
He turned to look at me. “You’ve always been interested in the Mission. I thought you’d at least be excited to witness the Sending Off.”
I stopped walking, causing Cook to run into me. “You want me to be excited that you purposely kept my name from the Mission? Is that it?”
“Ivy…”
“Here’s a clue for you, Father: The Mission was my life. My dream. And you took it from me. So forgive me if I’m not happy about what you did.” Jerking my arm away from him, I stalked ahead.
Didn’t he understand how much he’d hurt me? I glowered, wishing I could just run back home. Something nudged my leg, and I glanced down to see Grr pressed to my side.
“Hey, boy. Where did you come from?”
He looked toward the sky.
I followed his gaze to the star-cluttered sky. Was it possible?
My skin prickled. For some reason, I was terrified to figure out what the Hag had in store for me. Between the tattoo, the voice I’d heard in the cave, and the dark markings, I didn’t know what to think anymore.
When we arrived at the wharf, the higher-ups lined the docks with their families. The boats that had been anchored near shore the previous day were gone, and in their place sat two large warships, cannons pointed out to sea.
Father caught up to me and gestured at a spot near the platform, which led up to the Moaning Mermaid, the ship that would take Prince Dorian and the others on the first leg of their journey. Like I wanted to stand with the rest of the King’s Council and their children.
Pudge settled in beside me. “How you holding up?” He held a stick with gizzards on it and raised it to his lips, popping one in his mouth.
Grr nudged between us and stared up at Pudge, licking his chops.
“Don’t even think about it.” He shoved the dog away. Then he turned back to me. “So, are you going to answer my question?”
“Is it wrong for me to hope that Vane trips over a plank and breaks some bones so I can take his place?” I said behind my hand.
Pudge laughed. “I can trip him if you want.”
Drumbeats echoed down the road, indicating the procession grew closer. As the crew of the Moaning Mermaid and the six Mission selectees marched past each section of spectators, more drums joined in.
King Starshooter came into view first, followed by the parade of family banners, the crew of the Moaning Mermaid (minus Honour), and lastly the ones going on the Mission. Even from where I stood, I saw the elaborate emerald-colored tunics adorned with gold embroidery. Each one carried a sword and a shield that bore their family’s crest. The king stopped when he came onto the dock, then turned to face the crowd.
“Today is a life-changing day for six of our younglings.” His eyes roamed the audience, lips tilted in a proud smile. “They will embark on a two-month journey to the Outer Realm. During these travels, they will learn the meaning of true courage. They will be tested, and when they return, they will no longer be children.”
Cheers spread through the audience, and I gripped Pudge’s hand. My chest tightened as I tried to pay attention to the king. But his words to those leaving on the Mission were lost on me. Maybe it was small-minded of me, but I didn’t want to hear about their bravery and good fortune. Nor did I care to see their happiness when mine had been obliterated.
“In a moment, I will have one more surprise announcement,” the king said, smiling down the line of younglings.
Could he have changed his mind? Were they going to add another name at the last minute? My heart hammered out of control.
Pudge released my fingers as the procession came our way for their last goodbyes, then slid his gizzard stick into his pocket with the other hand. Each of the councilors offered handshakes and some words of wisdom. And as the line grew closer, I stared at Dorian, who was at the front. His long legs carried him with grace, his straight posture making him taller.
When he drew close, he stopped and bowed. Then, there in front of everyone, Dorian got down on one knee, taking my hands in his. His gaze met mine.
What was going on?
“Lady Ivy Archer, while I know this is outside the timeline of the Choosing Ceremony and likely abrupt, I dare not wait until I come back, for fear that someone else might approach your father. So, with that, I humbly request your hand in marriage.”
My fingers trembled in his. My mouth gaped open, and I stared at him. “Dorian? A-are you sure?” Was this the surprise he spoke of the other day?
He smiled, his thumb brushing against my palm. “I’m more than sure, Ivy. Please say yes.”
Next to me, I heard Pudge’s sharp intake of breath. Shite. Could I do this? I’d been envisioning Pudge as the one I’d have by my side. He was the one who set my heart fluttering and made my blood burn beneath my skin. Yet wasn’t this what I wanted? A position in which I could make a difference? If I couldn’t be an advisor, wasn’t the rank of princess, then eventually queen, just as meaningful?
“I—I, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” I finally said.
Dorian stood, bringing both of my hands to his lips, and he slid a large ruby and gold ring onto my finger. “Thank you, Ivy. I promise you won’t regret this,” he said. “Once I’m back, we really have to talk.” He kissed my hand once more, then led me over to his father, who pressed a kiss on each of my cheeks.
King Starshooter placed a hand over Dorian’s and my joined ones. “I formally announce the engagement of my son, Prince Dorian Starshooter, to Lady Ivy Archer, daughter of my High Advisor. May we cheer and celebrate their future union.”
Shouts went up around us as the townspeople cheered.
Several of the council members glared, obviously not in on this new development. “Why don’t you go back to the line now,” Father said, patting my shoulder, then giving Dorian a slap on the back as well.
Dorian brought me back to where I’d stood before, then leaned closer to my ear. “I hope you’re not angry with me.”
I managed a wobbly smirk. “I-I’m just shocked is all. Thank you. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
“You, Ivy Archer, could never disappoint me. May the days go quickly so I might return safely to you.”
My eyes trailed Dorian’s retreating form, pulse still hammering beneath my skin. I, Ivy Archer, a half-blooded goblin, was engaged to the prince. And I had no idea how to feel about it.
Dorian stopped once again, this time in front of Birdie and her family, and gave a slight bow. As he walked away from them, I heard Birdie’s mom trying to console her.
“Don’t worry, he’s not
marrying her for love. They got caught in a compromising position; that’s the only reason he’s being forced to do this.”
My fingers dug into my palms. Of course, that had to be the reason. But did it matter? At least it kept me from the Choosing Ceremony. And from Pudge, a small, sad voice inside me said.
Dorian spun on his heel, eyes narrowed. “No, I asked her because I love her, Councilor Dundry. Don’t try to ruin this moment because you don’t like it.” He peered down the line at me. “Ivy and I will have a happy marriage.”
Whoa. My cheeks warmed. Whether his words were true or not, I appreciated that he stood up for me. I peered up to where the king stood, half expecting him to say something to Dorian for the way he talked to the councilor, but he only stared after his son.
Even with this new development, I still wanted more than anything to be on that ship. Sailing away from Gob Hollow and doing something heroic. To leave behind the snickers and whispers and all the teasing I’d endured over the years. To finally prove I was special—tough—ready to be the next advisor. But I’d get none of those things. Not now. Not ever. However, I had a new future to look forward to.
“You’ll remember this as the day you weren’t good enough,” Vane said when he got in front of me.
“Some of us don’t depend on our parents to pay our way into Missions,” Pudge said. “Not to mention, Ivy is going to be more important than you anyway.”
Vane glared as he moved forward. In one quick motion, Pudge stuck his foot out, and Vane tripped into the people in front of him.
“Walk much?” I said under my breath as Honour brought up the rear of the procession.
Honour reached out to steady him. “Might want to watch your step—these boards are kind of loose.”
“I didn’t trip on a board!” Vane’s gaze darkened.
“Land lovers.” Honour laughed. He stopped and clutched my hand in his. “Congratulations on the engagement.” He raised my fingers to his lips, then placed a loud, obnoxious kiss on them. “I’ll miss your beautiful smile the most, or maybe the way you throw entrails in Vane’s face,” he teased, then said, “Be good, little sis. I promise to watch after your betrothed.”
Where There Be Humans Page 9