Pudge shifted, hugging me to his chest. “Don’t cry.”
“You better not ever do that to me again,” I said. “Hag, don’t you know how important you are to me?” The fact was, I hadn’t realized how important until he almost drowned. Just the thought of him not being there made me ache. I needed Pudgeons Wayfarer like I needed air to breathe—and water to drink.
“I’ll never leave you. I promise.” He sat up slowly, looking as if he’d just been spewed out by a whale. He clasped my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
Just then, Perci burst onto the shore from the woods, sword drawn. “Ivy, what’s going on? I heard shouting.”
A moment later, the other two ran out through the tree line, too.
“Sirens. They’re gone now, but I think it’s best if we moved on.”
“No arguments here,” Beaurick said, eyeing the dead, bobbing form of one of the creatures I’d killed.
Wiping the wetness from my eyes, I composed myself and asked Pudge, “Can you walk?”
“I’ll manage.” His legs wobbled beneath him as he stood.
“Let’s get as far away from here as possible.” A shiver trailed over my spine, and I shook.
“Right behind you.”
I chewed my lip. He seemed tired. I didn’t want to push him too much. “If you want, we can wait until you’re rested.”
He caught my chin in his hands. “Ivy, I’ll be fine. Let’s just get out of here.”
After studying him for long moments, I nodded. Picking up our packs, we headed away from the beach. But the images of Pudge’s nearly drowned body would haunt me for days to come.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The woods faded away to rolling hills and fields. My nerves attacked me like a battalion of enemy soldiers, and my mouth went dry. Our journey began over a month ago, and now, here we were, standing on the border between the Outer Realm and the human world.
“I guess this is where we part ways, Ivy Archer,” Beaurick said, clapping my back. “Bring Prince Dorian back safely and remind him he’s not getting out of going to the Autumn Ball that easily. Though I doubt you’d let him bow out of it now that you’re his betrothed.”
I swallowed hard, biting back tears. “I will. Try to stay out of sight. I’ll send word to you if we find anything.”
Next, Perci shook my hand. “We’ll be waiting for you. If you need us, please contact us. I know Captain Bushwell only wanted you and Pudge to go into the human world, but if you’re in danger, you know we’ve got your back.”
“Thank you. Keep safe, all of you.”
Cray gave a wave, his gaze flitting over the surroundings. “See you soon.”
My fingers trembled as I held the map. “This is it.” I glanced at Pudge. “Time to put our glamour in place and find my aunt.” Not that I needed much. Just enough to change my ears and tone my coloring.
Pudge squeezed my shoulder. “Are you okay? Your skin is pale. I mean, paler than normal.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment. To know my family. But what if she doesn’t like me?”
Pudge chuckled. “Everybody likes you. Well, okay, I guess that’s not true. Vane hates you. And Birdie, she can’t stand you. And—”
“If that’s your way of helping, maybe you ought to not talk.” I narrowed my eyes.
His chest shook with laughter. “Ivy, c’mon, I’m teasing. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.” He started to walk ahead of me, glamour falling over him like shimmering fabric. To the naked human eye, he would look like nothing more than a handsome dark-haired man. But I saw through his magic to the goblin beneath. A goblin that was handsome in a different way.
Folding the map up, I tucked it into my pack, then followed after Pudge. I focused on the surroundings, hoping the scenery would calm my nerves. The lead-colored sky threatened rain as dark clouds rolled across. Sheep and cows dotted the distant green hills. There were small thatched-roof cottages just off the road, with stone walls winding around them like defensive barriers.
Then I saw one. A human. A man older than Archer stood in a field, bundling hay. His skin was tanned from the sun, and his face showed signs of age. His build was similar to ours, but his teeth were flat-edged like mine, not pointed like most goblins’. He gave a wave, and I lifted my hand to return the gesture. There was no animosity on his face. No judgment like I got in the goblin world. My stomach tingled as I stared at him. It was like he’d stepped straight out of my fairy tale books. I craned my neck to watch him as we walked by.
We went several more miles before I saw the grand estate on the horizon. Weathers Castle. Four turrets pointed toward the sky like giant fingers. From this distance, I saw the high stone walls that surrounded the outside. It wasn’t nearly as big as the palace back home, but it was impressive just the same.
The closer we got, the more I was able to see clearly. The castle was made of limestone, along with its outer gate. Two stone bears sat at the entrance, along with an armed guard.
“Who goes there?” A grizzled man stood in front of us, fingers resting on the hilt of his sword.
I took a deep breath. Keep calm. Both fear and excitement raced through my blood. My hands grew sweaty, knees trembling. What if she didn’t want to see me? And what if I disappointed her?
Pudge nudged me with his elbow, and the guard gave us a suspicious once-over.
“My name is Ivy Starshooter. I’m here to see my aunt, Margaret Weathers,” I said.
His brows shot up, and then he narrowed his eyes. “She doesn’t have any nieces or nephews.”
I clenched my fists. “Will you please tell her that Ivy Starshooter requests an audience with her,” I repeated.
The guard never took his gaze from ours. “Reginald,” he called. “Inform Lady Margaret there is someone at the gate claiming to be her niece.”
Pudge and I stood there for long minutes, waiting. My feet scuffed against the ground, kicking up dirt as I tried to keep my nerves from taking over. But it occurred to me I might not even get in to see her. Not that I needed her for my Mission, but it’d help to have someone familiar with the terrain and outlying area. And yet, that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to see her. I needed to know my family, to see where I came from. Even if the human world hadn’t wanted me, I still had a right to it.
Reginald reappeared, sword in hand. “Lady Margaret says to escort them in.”
The guard raised the gate, and we followed him through a stone archway and down a cobblestone walk. When we came to the heavy wooden door of the castle, a woman met us.
Her blond hair was streaked with gray, and her eyes narrowed as she studied me. Hefting up her skirts, she walked around us, then came to a stop in front of me.
“Ivy, is that really you?” she said.
I remembered the glamour. Staring at the guards, I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to fully reveal myself. Not that I looked that much different. My skin had a slight tinge to it, but nothing overly noticeable, and my pointed ears. Other than that, everything else was human-like.
At last, I let my glamour fall away.
Margaret gasped and rushed forward, hugging me to her chest. “It really is you. After all these years.” Tears streaked her face as she held me at arm’s length to look at me. “You are the spitting image of your mother.”
My mother. The ache in my chest spread. How long had I spent wondering about her? Trying to picture her face. At last, I’d made it to her world, but she wasn’t here to greet me.
“Where are my manners?” Margaret said. “Come inside. I’ll have the servants bring you dinner, and we can catch up.”
We followed her into the castle to the Great Hall. An enormous mahogany table sat in the center of the room. Beyond that was a fireplace, glowing red with embers, a large boar’s head displayed over the mantel. Tapestries adorned the
walls, boasting brilliant blues, golds, and reds. Each one depicted a different scene. Some had battles; others showed lovers embracing.
“I think I smell food,” Pudge said from beside me.
“You do. It’s turkey, potatoes, and bread, amongst other things.” Margaret smiled. “We were just preparing to take our meal.” She gestured to the empty chairs, and we took a seat. “So tell me, who have you brought with you?”
“This is my friend, Pudgeons Wayfarer.”
My aunt shook his hand, then turned back to me. “You remind me so much of your mother. It’s like she’s sitting in the room with me.”
“I don’t even know what she looks like.” My voice cracked.
Margaret stood, taking my hand and tugging me after her. She led me to the other end of the room, then stopped in front of a painting. “This was your mother.”
A lump lodged in my throat as I stared at the familiar golden hair. The same small turned-up nose. Our mouths were the same. Only the skin tone, ears, and eye color differed. My fingers trembled as I traced her face, memorizing every detail.
“She loved you and your father very much,” she said, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me back to the table.
“How did they meet? My parents, I mean.” I turned to look at her.
“Your father saved our lives.” Margaret smiled. “My sister and I were having a picnic near the woods when a wild boar came upon us. We managed to get into a tree.” A servant filled her goblet, and she took a sip before continuing. “At that time, your father was on a Mission and happened across us. I won’t lie—our first encounter with him was frightening. In all respects, he was a monster. But then he swooped in and slaughtered the boar.” She pointed to the head hanging over the mantel. “Up until that point, we’d thought goblins and such to be fairy tales, or at least that’s what we’d been told. However, it seems now that perhaps some of the menfolk knew about them.”
I tried to imagine him with his sword in hand, saving humans. What it must’ve been like for my mother to see a goblin.
“My sister was taken with him at once.” Margaret laughed. “She had no fear, just climbed from the tree and started talking to him. She demanded he tell her his name. Me, I was too shy and scared to say much of anything. But King Starshooter had finesse about him. A quiet strength and understanding that intrigued your mother. And soon they started to meet each other in secret.”
My fingers toyed with the linen napkin placed in front of me. “How long did this go on for?”
“A couple of months. But your father had to return home. He was betrothed to a goblin, and his father expected him to not only marry, but also take up the throne,” Margaret said. “My sister was devastated. She held out hope he’d come back. And eventually, he did, but he was married.”
I closed my eyes. Dorian’s mother had been the one to marry my father. Hag, I couldn’t imagine how my mother felt. How she faced each day, knowing the man she loved had taken someone else for his bride.
“My sister snuck out to meet him. They wanted to say goodbye and have one night they could cherish forever. At first, I discouraged it, but she’d hear nothing of it.” Margaret’s eyes welled. “That was the night she became pregnant with you. And we hid it for several months, but our mother eventually figured it out and went to my father.”
Pudge patted my back, and I gave him a weak smile. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
Margaret continued on. “Father threatened to disown her for bringing shame upon the family. He demanded to know who the father was, but she refused to tell him. So he confined her to her room, only letting me and the staff in to bring her meals. Then she went into labor. She made me promise to be in there when she delivered.”
Aunt Margaret’s shoulders shook, tears tumbling down her cheeks. I wanted to go to her but found myself cemented in place.
“I held her hand as she pushed through the pain. And when you came out, you looked almost human. My sister held on to you, naming you Ivy because of your beautiful skin. Then our brother, John, came in with our father. They took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right. They said you were an abomination. John ripped you from her arms, and Father said you were to be put to death.”
My eyes burned, and my throat constricted. I wanted to plug my ears, to ignore everything. But I sat there, listening.
“Your mother told me to save you. Then she leaped from the bed and went after John and Father, at which point I grabbed you from my brother. A maid helped me get you out of the house. She knew a woman who agreed to keep you until your father could be reached. The last I saw of you was when Cook came to retrieve you.”
“A-and my mother?” My voice trembled.
“She lost a lot of blood, and after John shoved her, she didn’t stand much of a chance,” Margaret said. “She died in my arms, later that night. After I assured her you were safe.”
I buried my head in my hands, crying. I’d cost my mother her life. Not to mention, I nearly cost my father his crown. I was a curse. Strong arms embraced me, and I opened my eyes to find Pudge holding me.
“Everything will be okay, Ivy. You’ll see.”
Aunt Margaret came to my side as well, rubbing my hair from my face. “There’s only one thing you need to know. Your mother loved you more than anything. She’d want you to be happy.”
“But it’s my fault…”
“No. It’s your grandfather and uncle’s fault. If they hadn’t been so ruthless, she’d still be here.”
Several servants carried in our meal and placed it at the center of the table. There was turkey, potatoes, carrots, and steaming bread, as well as apple pie. Despite how good everything smelled, I didn’t feel hungry. Once the staff dished up our food, they retreated to the kitchen.
Aunt Margaret watched me as I played with my potatoes. “Ivy, may I ask why you’ve come to the human world?”
My gaze met hers. “I’m here to rescue my brother. Half brother, the king’s son. We believe he was kidnapped by humans in the area while he was on a Mission. Father thought you’d be able to assist me in finding him.”
She frowned. “I haven’t heard anything. But I can have my staff keep their ears open. In the meantime, you can stay with me, and I’ll aid you in whatever way I can.”
“Thank you. There is one more thing that might help. When the goblins returned to Gob Hollow, they carried a ransom note—one signed by a Lord Frederik.”
My aunt gasped. “I wonder if it was the earl’s son. His name is Frederik. But I’ve heard no stirrings about it. You’d think that someone would’ve let something slip in regard to a goblin being captured. After all, your kind are thought to be fairy tales.”
Was this a coincidence? I hated to ask her for anything, especially after everything she’d already been through. But she was my only chance to locate Dorian. I had to take it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Plates clanked together as the servants cleared the breakfast dishes the next morning. I cringed, my head throbbing from lack of sleep. It was hard to get comfortable in the room I knew my mother had died in. I was sure if I asked, Aunt Margaret would move me. But I didn’t want to offend her. After all, I told her I wanted to stay in Mother’s old room. It was like by being there it’d somehow make me feel closer to her.
A giggle sounded from the end of the table. I narrowed my eyes, watching the cook’s teenage daughter lean over and fix the laces on Pudge’s tunic.
“When I’m done with my chores, I can show you around the estate, if you’d like?” she said.
Pudge smiled. “Sure. That’d be nice.”
She giggled again, making me want to toss a bowl at her. Why wouldn’t she just go away? Her eyelashes fluttered up and down, and her hand brushed his when she took his dirty dishes away. And he sat there, like a buffoon, grinning.
I kicked him under the table.
“Ow, what was that for?” he said.
“What are you talking about?” I shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.” What did it matter to me if she flirted with Pudge? Ugh, who was I kidding? Of course it mattered. But how could I tell him that?
“Why don’t we move to the drawing room?” Aunt Margaret said. She stood, pushing her chair back. “We have important things to discuss.”
We followed her down the hall to a staircase and up to the second floor. Wrought iron sconces decorated the walls, and ornate rugs lined the floors. We stepped through a door at the end of the corridor, and the room held several chairs in front of a large stone fireplace. Above the mantel hung a painting of my mother, with my aunt and uncle standing on either side of her.
Even in the picture, my uncle’s eyes seemed cold and cruel. The painter captured his callous features with precision; I shivered, rubbing my arms against the gooseflesh that broke out on my skin. Tearing my gaze away from the picture, I joined my aunt on a velvet settee.
She turned to me. “It occurred to me last night, after we retired for bed, that the Earl of Hamden is holding a weeklong celebration with a tournament at the end. He’s an avid hunter and lives only a few miles from here. I can’t say for certain he’s the one who has your brother, but it’d be a good place for us to start looking. He is Frederik’s father, so that would make sense with what you told me.” She patted my hand. “There will be plenty of gossips at the celebration, so we’ll be sure to hear something.”
I toyed with my tunic sleeve. Fear trampled through my blood. The longer it took me to find my brother, the less likely I’d find him alive. And if I didn’t bring him back, would that mean I’d be next in line for the throne? I wasn’t ready for that. I’d trained to be a soldier and an advisor. Plus, I was certain the council would never allow for me to take my rightful place. So much depended on me finding him.
I couldn’t think about him not being alive. I had to find Dorian. He was my brother. My only sibling. I didn’t want to lose him before we even got a chance to get to know each other in the sense of being related.
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