Mark of Truth (Wicked Kingdoms Book 1)

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Mark of Truth (Wicked Kingdoms Book 1) Page 12

by Graceley Knox


  Dare looks down to our entwined fingers. He jerks his hands from mine, and a cold expression settles on his face.

  I duck my head and step back, a forced smile twisting my lips. “Can we go now?” I ask impatiently, my hands on my hips to keep them from reaching out to him. No way am I going to let them hang down and touch the grass again, either. Creepy bloodletting aside, I’m all set with plants touching me for a while.

  I move quickly out of the field of living grass to join my crew where they stand safely on the beaten path. I refuse to make eye contact with any of them and wave off their concerns with noncommittal answers.

  Dare brushes past me, and the shock of his touch sends liquid fire through my veins. He stands in front of everyone and clears his throat.

  “A few rules before we enter the gates.” He presses his lips into a thin line, his hands on his hips. We aren’t fond of following rules. “Do not use magic to sift while in the gates unless you have been introduced to all of the guards who are trained to recognize who is coming in and out of Goblin. You are considered guests, not full members of Goblin yet.”

  I open my mouth to interrupt him and get a withering glare in return. I snap my mouth shut quickly.

  “Do not offer anything to anyone, and do not make any wagers with anyone. You never know if they are a trickster. And lastly, please, for the love of the Goddess, do not fight anyone. No duels. No fighting for sport. Just no fighting. Period.”

  He ends with a pointed look to me and my crew to which we all give him our best innocent smiles. Shaking his head at us, he turns leads us towards the main gates.

  The closer we get to the main gates, the more the sheer size of the gates astound me. More than five stories tall, the wrought iron bars are covered in moss-colored vines that stop suddenly as they touch the sharp spikes reaching towards the clouds. The dirt path gives way to cobblestones under our feet, the white-veined stones worn smooth over time. Signaling for us to stay back a bit, Dare continues to the small guard post. Its weathered wooden roof tilts at a slope to leave a space for visitors to step out of the elements. The structure abuts to the gates behind it, the roof and building appearing to continue on the other side of the imposing walls.

  Dare saunters up to the door and bangs his fist against the gnarled wood three times. The door swings open almost as soon as the third knock sounds, revealing another Fae. Goblin, if I’m not mistaken. His eyes are icy blue and fierce in their appraisal of our group as he makes a full circle before locking with Dare. I wait for a slew of derisive terms to come out of his mouth.

  A wide crooked-toothed smile breaks across his hardened face as he throws open his arms. He thrusts them around Dare and lifts him slightly off the ground. Guffaws and cussing ensue, and a tone of sheer happiness creeps into Dare’s deep voice. Jerking my head side to side, I check the expressions of everyone around me. They are all smiling. Is no one else shocked as shit to see Dare not only smiling, but actually happy? It’s like a freakin’ Yule miracle. He’s always scowling when he’s talking to me unless he’s trying to pin me against a hard surface.

  I mentally slap myself. No. No thoughts of his broad muscled chest. Or his smooth skin. Or his hands, roughened with callouses from working with so many weapons. None of that. Because it won’t be happening again. It can’t. I’m leath cine, half elf, half human, and any coupling between us is forbidden by my mother’s people. Punishable by a death of the worst kind for all participating parties. I quite like my life, and I’m not completely sold on the notion of being half elf half goblin. As a matter of fact, I don’t even have any traits of other half or full blooded goblins. No extra arms, eyes, or any other body part. None of the usual shimmers. The closest I have ever come to bronze is that one time I got a spray tan in the human realm while shopping in one of their malls. It made me look like a pumpkin sprinkled with green fairy dust.

  The heat radiating off of Dare’s powerful body sends shocks of electricity through me as he steps up next to me. A wave of heat arrows straight to my center.

  Dare shakes his head and grins. “Meet Anghus, captain of the guards.”

  “I thought you were captain of the guards?” I turn my attention to the icy-eyed giant of a man now standing closer to our group than he was last time I laid eyes on him.

  “Captain of the Royal Guards, yes. My duty is to the King of Goblin. Anghus’s is to protect the rest of the goblins within these walls.”

  I allow my most dangerous smile to slip onto my lips. Anghus shifts and watches me. Extending my hand for him to shake, I wait to see if he’ll pass my first test.

  “Hey, what’s up? I’m Ever. Ever Leath.” I make sure to clearly enunciate the leath part.

  Not batting an eyelash at the word leath, he slides his giant paw of a hand into mine. He grasps it firmly and gives me a real shake, not one of those flimsy ones usually reserved for court ladies and shit. “Nice to meet ya, Ever.”

  I nod with respect for the way he handled, probably, his first meeting with a leath cine. I turn and introduce the rest of my crew. “Here we have Eryn, Axel, Kirin, and last but not least, Doyle.”

  He shakes Eryn’s hand and then does the man handshake with a slap to the upper arm with the boys.

  “And I’m sure you know these two jokers.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder at Dax and Dagan. I laugh harder at Dax’s snort and Dagan’s severe frown.

  “Cousin. Cousin.” Anghus smiles at each of them in turn.

  “Wait, wait, wait. You’re cousins?” I look more closely at each of them. I guess they have a sort of resemblance, but not enough that I would have seen it if they hadn’t told me.

  Anghus’s ice blue eyes gleam with laughter. “Aye, I carry the unfortunate burden of being related to them.” His upper lip twitches as he tries to conceal his smirk of amusement.

  “And what a terrible burden it must be.” I nod sagely.

  With a scowl marring his handsome face Dare interrupts Anghus’s next response. “Let’s get on with it then, aye? Into Goblin you go.” He gives me a little push at my shoulder and grunts at the frown I give him.

  I take a deep breath and make eye contact with my crew one final time. This is our first trip into a fully Fae stronghold. Axel grew up here, but his memories probably aren’t the best. And my only experience in a fully Fae stronghold involved being kidnapped. Varied looks of determination, encouragement, and a glimmer of excitement mark their faces. I shrug and decide I’ll enter on my own terms. I turn to Dare and smile.

  “Let’s fucking do this thing.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  We enter through the massive double doors at the gates and walk through the courtyard. Next we walk up to the stone steps into the castle, and all of the details start to blur together. The multitude of unfamiliar sights and sounds bombard me. Small goblin children are running around a fountain, chasing each other and giggling. Their carefree ways inspire smiles through our entourage of collective warriors.

  The children throw themselves at Dax and Dare’s legs clinging as only excited children can, their rapid fire speech a jumble to my ears.

  Small round stone buildings with yellow straw weaved together forming roofs clump together here and there, small curls of steam coming from a few of them. Most of them have their doors and shutters thrown wide open, letting the fresh air in.

  On other side of the courtyard, a pixyish like girl sits on the ground not far from the edge of the fountain, gazing at the children still swarming the goblins. I slowly approach her, trying to give off my best harmless and friendly vibe. She looks up sharply and her magenta-and-teal-colored eyes lock with mine. She watches me like a hawk until I’m only a few feet from her.

  I smile and gesture to the ground next to her. “Can I sit?”

  She curls her shoulders forward. “If you want to.”

  “What’s your name? Mine’s Ever.” I sit down a few feet from her.

  “Arela,” she whispers. She looks over her shoulder.

/>   “How come you aren’t over there with the rest of your friends?” I wave a hand toward them.

  “They aren’t my friends.” She stares down at her hands folded in her lap.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not like them. I can’t do anything cool, and I’m not strong like they are.”

  “That depends on what your definition of cool or strong is.” I lean in a bit like I’m telling her a secret.

  “You’re not like the others either. You’re different. Just like me.”

  Her words shock me speechless for a few moments. “How am I different?” I ask with trepidation. I look around and make sure no one is in hearing range and ask my next question. “What is it that you do that you think is so uncool?”

  “I just know things. All sorts of things. Things I’m not supposed to know. Things people don’t want me to know. But I know. I always know more than they want me to.”

  I smile. “You know what I think? I think that’s awesome. I also think you are going to be powerful to behold one day, and an asset to all of Goblin.”

  “You didn’t just say that. You meant it.” Her eyes are wide and her mouth is slightly parted.

  Confused, I frown.

  “You believe I will be of great worth to the Goblin Kingdom. You are speaking the truth as you believe it, not just offering me platitudes.” A sudden smile lights up her face, and my heart soars that I was the one to help put it there.

  I remember thinking I was a freak when I was little, even at MECA where the normal was being leath cine, and everyone had some sort of power development happening. As I was unable to see my own illusions at the time, I had no idea what my abilities were or if I even had any. Living in a compound where everyone is considered magically inclined, I often felt as if I didn’t quite belong. It wasn’t until my mentor, Saoirse, noticed me day dreaming in the library one day. Sitting in one of the old and battered brown leather chairs, a book in my lap, Saoirse had asked me what I was thinking about and not thinking, I had told her. I had been imagining what the Light Elven Kingdom looked like. I had seen drawings and sketches, but I yearned to know more about a place I would never be allowed to see, never be allowed to enter. The place where my mother stayed while she left me in the care of MECA. The place where my uncle Caddox lived. He would tell me such outlandish stories when he came to visit me, and each story only fueled my imagination.

  Saoirse had asked me to picture the gardens on the grounds of the compound. Curious as to why, I did as she asked and brought forth the image of the willow tree and its sweeping branches. Then the white wooden bench beneath it covered in carvings of those who had sat there in years past. She had gasped and looked around in wonder. From there she took me under her wing, teaching me how to control and manipulate what people were seeing. Teaching me how to envision even the finest details in an illusion. She was the reason I no longer felt useless, or less than others even if they are full Fae and not leath cine.

  Being different isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s something to revel in.

  The sudden silence around me brings me back to the curious girl in front of me. I peek over my shoulder to see Dare and his brothers staring at me intently. I stick my tongue out at them and scrunch up my face.

  Turning back to Arela, I keep my face a minute longer and earn a peel of laughter from her. The sound is musical, like tinkling bells.

  The shifting of her eyes and the sudden change in the atmosphere is my only warning that someone is approaching behind me. I’m so caught up in getting to know the little girl in front of me, I hadn’t been paying attention. She stands, hunches in on herself, and lowers her head. I jump up and push her behind me, ready to eliminate whoever would cause such a reaction from her.

  A tall goblin stands a few feet away. His hair is a bluish black, the blue appearing only as the rays of sunshine fall upon his head. Two braids ending with metal beads to keep them in place hang at his temples. Each of his muscled arms hold torques with script from the goblin language, if I’m not mistaken. He’s obviously important, but I can’t quite make out his facial features as he talks with Dare. Beside him stands a goblin woman who’s smaller than most, but I don’t let her stature fool me. Her arms are toned and her eyes catch everything around her.

  She looks as though she’s headed to a fancy gala, goblin style, in her ruby red glittering gown. Both of her arms hold similar torques to the other goblins’. The only difference is they are smaller and thinner than the ones the man wears. Her long hair looks white until the light hits it. In fact, it’s the palest shade of yellow, hanging pin straight down her back, one braid from the top of her head the only bit of whimsy. Her face is a symmetrical oval, and her aristocratic nose cuts her symmetrical face in half perfectly. It’s her black and grey almond shaped eyes that catch and hold my attention. Her lip curls and betrays her true feelings about our arrival into the Goblin Kingdom.

  Doyle’s voice breaks my stare down with her. “Not even here twenty minutes and already we have haters,” he whispers, his broad shoulders tense.

  I tilt my head up to meet his eyes and decide to ignore the rude bitch. “Do you know who she is?”

  “No. No clue.”

  “Keep an eye on her. Subtly.” I stress. “I want to know if it is just us she has an issue with or if it’s everyone. She doesn’t seem to like Arela either.”

  I turn to Arela, who is standing a bit behind me. “Hey, you okay?” I ask her.

  She flicks her gaze up to meet mine quickly before dropping it again. I give her my full attention before making the introductions between her and Doyle. Almost immediately, she seems to relax after shaking Doyle’s hand. I give him a pointed look, and understanding lights his eyes.

  “Any idea who those two are?” I ask without any preliminaries as soon as the rest of the crew reaches us.

  Eryn shakes her head and Kirin raises one brow. Axel is the only one to respond verbally with a simple yes.

  When he doesn’t immediately elaborate on his answer, I bombard with questions. “Who are they? Names? Rank? Haters of all things leath cine? Horrible people? Good people? What?”

  He folds his arms across his chest and waits for me to settle my ass down. I snap my mouth shut and raise my eyebrow expectantly.

  “They are the King and Queen.”

  I drop my jaw. They don’t look like any King and Queen I have ever seen or heard of before. First off, where are their crowns? Second shouldn’t they have an entourage? And last, where is all the fanfare?

  I do a double take. “You’re joking.”

  Shaking his head, he replies with a nope, popping the P at the end. I take another glance over at the royal couple. Are those even the right words? Their clothes are made from fine materials, and the sparkle in her dress seems to be made from actual gems, not just sequins or whatever. Goddess that has to be heavy to walk around in. I’m struck by a pair of pumpkin orange and candy apple red eyes, similar to the ones that have been haunting my latest fantasies. His expression isn’t one of disdain, like his queen, but one of curiosity. Instead his head is tilted and his posture is open and welcoming. I quirk an eyebrow at him, daring him to tell me if I pass his test.

  Lines form at the corners of his eyes and he throws back his head, the booming sound of laughter filling the courtyard. Tensing, I look to Dare. Dare’s jaw is slack. I let some of the tension go from my body. I feel my crew relax a bit at my back as well. The King approaches me. His gait is relaxed while his queen’s is stiff with self-importance.

  “Do I curtsy or something?” I whisper to Axel.

  He shakes his head.

  “Hello, and welcome to the Goblin Kingdom. I’m Teag Fitzpatrick, King of Goblin, but I suspect you have already figured that out.” He smiles and extends his hand to me.

  “I’m Ever Leath. Beside me is Doyle, and this is Axel Cedon, whom I think you have met previously.”

  He turns his attention to Axel. “Mac baile fáilte de Goblin.”

  W
elcome home son of Goblin, if I’m not mistaken. Axel sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. He thrusts his shoulders back proudly and meets the Kings gaze, “Go raibh maith agat.”

  A simple thank you, but considering the way he was treated by his goblin mother, it’s perfect in its simplicity.

  Pride swells in my chest with Axel’s response, and for the acceptance he’s received from the King of Goblin. My smile turns genuine. My crew may be considered rag tag and a bit of a mish mash, but never let it be said that we give the leath cine a bad name.

  The Queen gives me a half sneer, half attempt at a smile which falls flat. I meet her head on. No way in hell am I going to allow her to ruin this moment for Axel. He’s longed to return and I won’t let her get in the way of our true reason for being here.

  Before I can think to censor my thought to mouth knee jerk reaction I blurt out, – “You got a problem?” I cross my arms over my chest and step toward her.

  The King snaps his gaze quickly to the Queen, who isn’t fast enough wiping her ugly expression of hatred off of her face before he can see it. The bridled anger in his voice when he speaks to her in his deep tone, speaking in the language of goblin faster than I can translate it, stuns me. Her expression shutters, and she bows to him slightly before turning. She doesn’t respond to him, only strides away, her back straight, her head held high.

  I look around for clues as to how I should react, other than with joy at her being scolded like an errant child. If what Dare and his brothers had told me about his father’s preference for elven women before his wife was killed is true, he probably has more reason to dislike the uptight bitch, other than her apparent dislike for anyone not fully goblin or considered royal.

 

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