She nodded eagerly, but when the next rabbit appeared, her aim sent the arrow flying into the tree above. I raised my eyebrows as the rabbit took off, then quickly swung my axe from where it was sheathed and threw it. It turned three times in the air before sinking itself deep into the rabbit’s hide. My heart raced at the swiftness of it and the exhilaration coursing through my veins.
Rekke kicked the ground, embarrassed. “I’m … not a particularly good shot. I can throw knives, but they’re harder to kill animals with. Besides, my throwing knives are poison, so we couldn’t eat anything they killed.”
That was something to tell Soren, in case an event came up where Rekke got stabby. Poisoned throwing knives. I knew for a fact Lydian poisoned his greatspear. I also knew that dying of goblin-made poison was not a good way to go.
I yanked my axe out of the rabbit and slung it onto my belt while it still dripped blood. The hot fluids covered the leathers on my thigh, but it didn’t bother me.
Rekke stood with her head still bowed, looking so pitiful my heart gave a squeeze.
“Perhaps I can teach you to be a better shot, if you’ll have that.” The words were out of my mouth before I thought them through. She looked so human, my aching heart had to do something despite my mind screaming for it to stop. This child—no, this she-goblin—could not be my friend, could never be my friend.
She tensed, trying to judge if the offer was accepting weakness or even an insult. When she made her decision, she said, “That would be wonderful. But don’t tell Elvira and Helka, please. They think I’m useless enough as it is.”
“Of course. Come on, we shouldn’t wander so far away. We can find more on the way back,” I said, starting the trek back to the camp. The young goblin chattered the whole way, but the words went in one ear and out the other. From the bounce in her step and the way her liquid gold eyes lit up, she looked pleased that she had a friend in me. But she was a goblin. She was not my friend. I shouldn’t be feeling anything but hatred for this creature. But the more I tried to hate the girl, the more she grew on me.
My chest ached where my breast should’ve been. Remember what they are. They aren’t your friends or allies. They’re cold-blooded killers who want to either turn you into one of their own or kill you. The words in my head were spoken in my father’s voice—or at least the little I remembered of it.
“They can’t think you completely useless,” I interrupted, trying to keep my tone light. “They brought you along for the Hunt, after all.”
Rekke sniffed. “That’s because I’m my father’s heir, not her. If I wasn’t so young I’d be the ruler in my own right, but since I am she’s my regent. She likes the power and wants to get rid of the competition.” She fell in beside me, and we walked in silence for a while.
“Elvira could kill you herself or arrange for someone else to do it in her territory if she wants you dead.”
Rekke shook her head. “My father—her brother—preformed a bind curse on her a while back. He was older than her so he was the lord, but she killed him for his rank. Before he died, he made sure she couldn’t kill me by her own hand or word. So even though she ruled the manor, she couldn’t order or arrange my death. I think this is the closest thing she can get to it.” She sighed. “I miss my dad. He was so nice. He taught me everything. We used to play games in the courtyard when he wasn’t busy.”
“My father played games with me too,” I whispered. The dull ache returned to my chest. I hadn’t talked about my father in so long. Much less to someone who wasn’t human.
“What type?” she asked.
I had to think about it. “Well, when I was really little, he would take a piece of candy or a coin and hide it in a row of shoes. I had six sisters, so there were a bunch. I had to guess which shoe had the candy, and if I was correct, I got to keep it. When I was older, I mainly did hunting games and trained with him.”
She laughed. “That’s a weird game, but I like it. We had this pond, and my dad would challenge me to catch more frogs than him. Elvira had the pond filled in after she killed him. I suppose she’s ordered the guards to empty my room too; she obviously isn’t expecting me to come back from this.”
The hurt in the young girl’s voice was clear. Perhaps whatever you were, you loved your family in some way. Perhaps knowing you were being taken to your likely death was just as painful as knowing you were being taken as a thrall. I shook myself. Attempting to humanize them would only make this worse. I had to be strong enough to feel no remorse, grow no bonds, even if part of me ached to reach out to Rekke and touch her shoulder.
I was almost relieved to meet Soren and the others back at camp, throwing the two rabbit carcasses in front of them. Soren raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”
“There’s not much here. It’s a dead land, if you remember.”
He snorted. “I remember well.”
Elvira turned to Rekke. “You killed one as well, didn’t you?”
“Um…” She fidgeted. “I…” Her face twisted in pain, the light that glowed in her eyes during our conversation sputtering out.
“Obviously not,” Helka hissed, glaring at the girl. “Soren’s whore can do better than you.”
Blood pounded in my ears. I am not a whore. “Don’t ever call me that,” I snapped. From behind me, a growl rumbled low in Soren’s throat.
“Sorry.” She grinned, showing her sharp teeth. “Lydian’s whore, then.”
“Helka,” I warned, anger burning through my limbs. Like Elvira, I was determined that Helka know I didn’t fear her, and that she couldn’t push me around. But if she went any further, I would explode. The thought that she knew what that brute had done to me boiled my blood.
“What? He did fuck you half to death, didn’t he? I’m surprised you’re still able to walk, let alone stand! And of course, he made lovely work of your breasts, though he must’ve liked one a bit too much, it seems.” Her voice grew vicious.
Soren’s growl turned into a snarl. Rape was a common use of dominance in goblin culture, especially among older goblins who used it as a show of strength and power. Rage boiled in my belly.
I stepped forward. “He liked it until he got a good dose of iron poisoning in his calf—and shoulder now.” Despite my bravado, the world was spinning beneath my feet. Don’t remember, don’t remember. Images of Lydian, his claws latched deep inside of me, flashed through my mind.
Why won’t you listen? Why won’t you listen?! He’d scream the words over and over until spittle ran down his chin and dripped on my face. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you see it! Don’t you see I’m trying to save you! Just answer my question! Over and over as he hurt me, used me, raving like a lunatic. What happens when the serpent stops eating his tail?
“I’m just sore that we have to have a human slowing us down.” Helka stepped forward to meet me and bent to whisper in my ear, “And I know what you did to Aleksey.”
I didn’t think. Redness overtook my vision, and my hand whipped across Helka’s face, the crack of the slap echoing off the bare trees. Blood trickled down her cheek from where my nails dug into her skin. Time stopped and the only things moving were the branches of skeleton trees blowing in the wind. Then Helka lunged at me. I dodged the blow and then another, a snarl bubbling at my lips. Her axe moved quickly through the air in a blur before every strike, and I definitely didn’t have time to counterattack. But I nimbly dodged every blow until I grabbed the axe’s handle as she swung down, kicking her in the side of her thigh. She stumbled, and I wrenched the axe away from her, gripping it firmly in my hands. The blade was heavier than I was used to, and it gleamed wickedly in the setting sun.
But she wasn’t done. She pulled her lips back in a snarl, her teeth lengthened, her brow furrowed, her nose and ears grew long, and the nails of her fingers turned to talons. “You little worm!”
I panted, already worn out by the brief struggle. It took only one look in Helka’s eyes to know that she would kill me if I didn’t defend m
yself. And I couldn’t allow her to kill me. To take my power, however small it was. The power was mine. And if she thought she could take it, she was wrong. Dead wrong. I’d rip her. I’d shove her corpse in the rivers of the Crossing so she’d never rest in Valhalla. I’d destroy her until there was nothing left to destroy.
I lunged at Helka with the fury in my body becoming my strength, using her axe to block her talons as she struck out at my face and heart. I danced with her, a dance I’d done many a time with Soren in the training fields as part of my companionship to him. But no sparring session could compare to the heat pulsing through my veins, the power that coursed through me, the pure delight that filled me when I ripped through her. The battle frenzy filled my mind, and my vision was black with shades of red. She would pay for those comments, for triggering those memories, for things she had no way of understanding.
Cold, rough hands wrapped around my waist and latched onto my wrists as I tried to yank myself to freedom. “Janneke,” a familiar voice said. “She’s dead! It’s okay, Janneke, she’s dead. She’s dead.”
The world came to me, and I cried out, falling to my knees. Helka had more power than the lordling I’d killed, so much more, and it hurt coming in. My body fought to reject it as if it were a foreign virus, but it found its way through my pores in spite of it, burning the whole way through. I scratched at my arms, trying to wipe it off, get the pain to stop, but the thick layer of power sank in.
When it was over, I lay panting, unsure of what went on. My mind, no longer crazed and scattered by the battle frenzy, was slowly picking up the details of what had happened. The body below me was beaten into a pulp, nearly unrecognizable, and Soren’s hands were still wrapped around my wrists. I found myself pressed against his chest, fighting for breath.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, low enough that the other two goblins wouldn’t hear. “It’s okay. It’s okay. She’s dead.”
“I—I—” I couldn’t find the words to speak.
“I know.” His breath was warm against my hair. “I know.”
I closed my eyes. Helka. Helka insulted me. I slapped her. She attacked me. I killed her.
“It’s really happening,” Elvira said, almost to herself.
The responding silence was deafening.
Bursts of panic erupted in my chest, despite Soren’s warm embrace, and my eyes began to sting. But no, I couldn’t cry or scream as my chest burned like it would split into two. I had to take it. I couldn’t let them see the weakness.
It was really happening. It was really happening. I was a killer. A monster like the one I’d slain. The dead eyes of the she-goblin stared up at me as I forced myself to feel disgust—not for the weakened creature at my feet, but for myself. I forced the sadness onto myself, forced the anger, and forced the guilt. I found if I couldn’t force the emotions, they wouldn’t come.
Elvira looked down at Helka’s body, then at me, shrugging. “Well, perhaps she wasn’t as useful as she appeared to be.”
And that was all she said about her ally’s murder.
“Come on,” Soren said. “Let’s find somewhere to set up camp.”
“We just did,” Elvira said.
“Somewhere not near a dead body, I meant. Unless you want to deal with any other predator of the flesh?” Soren raised an eyebrow.
I stood and he rose with me, and I only just remembered that his arms were still wrapped around me. I flashed him a look, and it seemed like he’d forgotten as much as I had, because he let go in an instant, a rare sheepish expression on his face.
“Thank you,” I said, in a low whisper. But was I thanking him for letting me go or for holding me in the first place? Somehow, I wasn’t sure it was the former.
Conversation broke out again as they moved a little farther to remake camp, and I numbly followed, leaving the body of the dead goblin behind. From a little way ahead of me, Soren looked back, worry etched on his features.
Panic trailed at my feet, feeling everything I felt, interpreting it the way only he could. He feared me, like he feared any predator. I tried to stroke his flank, but he moved aside every time. “I won’t hurt you,” I whispered to him. “Please, I won’t. I promise.” Maybe the bond could make him hear the sincerity in my voice.
When we finally set up camp, I collapsed to my knees on my bedroll. It was so cold. When I’d been fighting Helka, when the only thoughts I had were of killing and defending my power and the only feelings I had were of anger and bloodlust, I hadn’t noticed the frost on my arms. Now with the guilt that racked my body, I shivered violently. It blasted me, and I clutched my knees to my chest. Soren looked over to me from where he sat, a hunk of the rabbit clutched in his hands. The coppery smell of raw meat hit my nose, and a wave of nausea fell over me. I turned away. They’re monsters, and I’m becoming one of them.
The ground crunched beneath his feet as he came beside me, sitting on his own bedroll. I was shivering violently now, wishing for a blanket.
“You should stop fighting it,” he said softly. “Stop fighting the transformation. It will only make things harder for you.” He brushed his thumb against my cheek and wiped away tears I hadn’t known I was crying.
“Stop it,” I hissed. “Stop touching me.”
“I’m trying to get you to trust me,” he said, voice still uncharacteristically soft. “That’s all. Isn’t that how humans form bonds of trust?”
On any other day, I would’ve laughed. Of course. Of course, he was trying to do something human, but in his utter goblin-ness failed. Maybe I would’ve even admired him for it. But not today.
“I will never trust you. Never. And I’m not a fool.” Yet I couldn’t deny part of me felt safer by his side.
A strange expression played on his face. I couldn’t place it; I’d never seen it before. But his eyebrows crumpled, his lips turned down in what was almost a scowl but wasn’t. It was sadder. “I’m not a fool either,” he said.
“Oh?” I asked.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “And that’s coming from a man whose species is known for being unable to lie.”
“Then what, oh superior one? What am I lying about?”
He chuckled drily. “Do you really think you could run away, back to the humans, and live completely unaffected? With all the bonds tied to you? You’d either die in the attempt or be killed by humans. You’ve the smell of the Permafrost on you now that you can absorb power. One good hunt or fight would be all it took for your position to light up like a fire. And perhaps I’m wrong, but I doubt that you’d find fulfillment as a simple housewife. You need the Hunt as much as it needs you. Also, you do trust me. Not right now, perhaps, but usually.”
I had nothing to say to that, so only buried myself deeper in my arms. If the power I’d absorbed could alert Permafrost creatures to my presence in the human world, then this would be trickier than I thought. Soren was right about one thing: I would never be a housewife.
“I can’t do this right now,” I said, closing my eyes.
The way he sighed made it sound as if he truly hated to see me this way, but I didn’t buy it. He lay down on the bedroll beside me, and I closed my eyes. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him. It only made me shiver harder as my body greedily tried to suck in the warmth. He jerked my bedroll so it was closer to him, then positioned me slightly so I was barely touching him. Then he reached across and draped a bearskin cloak over me.
I should’ve protested, but my body was crying out in relief that it was finally warm. The tremors were chased away, leaving me utterly exhausted. Soren whispered, his breath tickling my ear, “I won’t ever let you hurt yourself.”
My eyelids were heavy, and my body ached with the pain of the day. “You shouldn’t have brought me here, then,” I said softly.
He said nothing, just placed a hand on my shoulder, his thumb moving across the bare skin on the nape of my neck. For once, I didn’t push it off. I didn’t have the strength, and despite everything, somethi
ng about the movement was calming. I fought to stay awake, even as I heard Elvira say she would take the first watch.
“Sleep, Janneke,” Soren said. “It’s going to be okay.”
No, it’s not. But my eyelids closed anyway, and I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
6
HARD TRUTHS
A SHARP JAB to my ribs woke me early in the morning. The sky was still a dark, deep blue, and the world around me was fast asleep. I was curled up close to Soren, underneath his bearskin cloak. The memories of the previous day played over in my head as I moved away from him, my body burning with embarrassment. Before me, Rekke watched us with amusement sparkling in her dark golden eyes. I groaned inwardly as the dim memory of waking up screaming again beside Soren in the early morning and shifting until I was positioned where I was replayed in my head. Something told me the young she-goblin was not going to let me live it down.
“Rekke?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What is it?”
“You said you’d teach me how to shoot. I want to do it while the others are still sleeping, so they won’t know I’m weak.”
Damn it to Hel. I groaned internally. I’d forgotten my promise. I was mildly surprised she’d still want to train with me. After all, I did kill Helka last night. Shuddering, I studied the ground. The prey lines had become more visible since absorbing Helka’s power, and the current of living beings flowing through the air was almost tangible.
A quick glance around the camp confirmed that both Soren and Elvira were still asleep. Rekke must’ve had the last watch. I stood and stretched my aching muscles. We’d ridden hard yesterday, and my muscles burned from the effort. The mental exhaustion inside of me from my fight with Helka didn’t help. Doubt was slowly spreading through me like a poison. Now was not the time to pay attention to that. If I could sneak off with Rekke, maybe I could survey the land for when I made a run for it.
“They’ll be pleased if we manage to catch breakfast,” I said, keeping my voice light.
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