Heart Of The Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 1)

by Lisa Manifold

  Wondering why he felt so empty.

  Chapter Twelve

  Iris

  I couldn’t stop smiling as my dad and I stood together. He even hugged Imara, and we all turned to watch Mom. She was well, everything about her said she felt better, normal…cancer-free.

  Finally, I reached for her as she turned her face upward, eyes closed, drinking in the sky. My dad came up behind us and put a hand to her arm.

  “Claire? How do you feel?” He stumbled a little over the words.

  I got it. The hope felt so big, so overwhelming that you were afraid to really let go and hope that your hope had been justified. And we’d been down this road before.

  “I feel fantastic,” Mom said, opening her eyes and turning to look at both of us. “I can’t remember when I felt this good.”

  “It’s not only due to the healing that the king provided. It’s also because you’re among your own kind,” Taranath said quietly. He stepped forward when my mom stopped communing with the sky. “It’s good for fae to be around other fae.”

  Suddenly, Mom’s eyes narrowed. She whipped her head around, searching. Stopped when her gaze met her mom’s.

  “You knew this? You knew I’d be better, even if you didn’t know I was sick, but you knew I’d be better if I was near you? And you never told me? Not once,” Mom pushed past Dad and me, brushing off our hands, “Did you ever say anything about why I might benefit from being close to you. Not once, Mom, did you give me any idea that there might be something I needed to know!”

  Mom looked primal as she got closer to Imara. Imara shrank back, leaning into Nerida. I could see Nerida lean into Imara, offering that aforementioned strength. “Would you have listened? I had just told you we didn’t agree with your marriage. Would you have listened to anything I said?”

  Imara obviously didn’t take grief from anyone, not even her own kid who she’d basically disowned. I felt both impressed and sorry for her. What a way to live. I had a sudden flash of insight. Imara was probably her own worst enemy.

  “You couldn’t have told me this earlier? Maybe when I was still in high school or something? You know, like a normal mom?”

  “I have never been a normal mom,” Imara drew herself up.

  “No shit,” Dad muttered.

  I turned my head so no one would see or hear me trying not to laugh. Dad looked down too, both of us caught up in how funny this drama was. In a sad, sob-story, black comedy kind of way.

  “She’s been asking for this for years. It’s okay if your mom has a go at her,” He hugged me, mistaking my actions for distress.

  “Oh, I’m sure she has,” I said.

  “It’s always better to be honest,” Taranath interjected mildly, watching the fray with his hands clasped in front of him. “There’ve been a lot of less-than-honest actions here.”

  “What are you, the Buddha?” This from Dad.

  “Dad, I think Taranath has to stay low-key. Look who he works for.”

  Taranath raised an eyebrow at me and smiled as I laughed.

  Even though I understood my mom’s anger, and Nerida deserved everything I’d said to her earlier, and Mara had some serious issues, I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. This had to be the best day ever for me. My mom was healed. Oh, no doctor had confirmed it, and deep inside I could feel that evil little voice we all have asking, What if she’s not? I shut it up. I even felt as though I had the luxury of examining my part in things later. Nothing mattered other than she had become well. She’d stay well, too. I just knew it. The evil little voice could buzz off.

  We’d have to go and let the doctors poke and prod her, of course. She’d be the miracle of the moment, and then we’d go back to life as normal.

  That thought caught me. What did normal mean, now? I couldn’t go back to what I was…god, only four or five hours ago? I’d never be that girl again. Heath, college, everything that had been important at the start of today seemed faded, like looking at an old home movie or something.

  Drake appeared from the shadow of the house where he’d been lurking.

  “Brennan has returned already. If you have no further need of me, Mage, I shall return also.”

  “He left?” I couldn’t control my disappointment.

  “This is not his only concern,” Drake answered, but it wasn’t said rudely. If anything, he gave me what looked like a compassionate glance.

  What the hell did that mean?

  “Tell him…” I stopped.

  “Yes?” Drake prompted.

  Even Taranath looked interested.

  “Thank you,” I managed. “I can’t thank him enough for what he’s done.”

  “Will you allow that he’s done you a service, a favor?” Taranath looked off in the distance as he spoke.

  “Yes, but he owed me for dragging me back with him in the first place.”

  “That was me, remember? So if I owed you, I’ve returned the favor by assisting your mother.” Drake seemed far too intense for this conversation.

  “Well…okay. I guess. Then yes, Brennan has done me a favor.”

  Taranath nodded. “I would agree. So if he should have need of you, may he call on you?”

  “Are you sure you ought to be collecting a favor on Brennan’s behalf?” Nerida spoke for the first time since she’d joined us outside.

  Taranath snapped out of it and met her gaze, smiling as he did so. “I am collecting nothing on his behalf, Majesty. Merely sorting what has happened. I like things to be neat and tidy.”

  “What does that mean, she owes him a favor?” Great. Now Mom decided to get in on the conversation.

  Nerida tried to answer but Imara, looking grateful to interrupt my mom, answered.

  “It means that Brennan has the right to ask for her help at a later date. She does not have to give it, but he has the right to ask. It’s a big deal, but it’s not binding.”

  Nerida glared at Mara. I had to look down to stop the laughter again. Nerida was a proper manipulator, but Mara was slamming the door in her face.

  “You’re not dragging my daughter into whatever mess you have,” Mom said. The light of battle still shone in her eyes. I wouldn’t want to take her on.

  To her credit, Nerida didn’t flinch. I guess being a queen for thousands of years gave you lots of practice in not flinching. “It’s no mess, but as Taranath said, it sorts things out.”

  “Sort them without my daughter.”

  “How old are you, Iris?” Taranath interrupted.

  “Twenty,” I got in before the claws came out.

  “She is old enough, in both the Human and Fae Realms, to acknowledge that she owes Brennan the courtesy of listening to a request for a favor,” Taranath stared off in the distance again.

  Silence greeted his words. How did he do it? He had a calming aura that just floated around him like perfume, and drifted over everyone else, diffusing the situation.

  “Well, Iris? Do you wish to acknowledge that Brennan may, at some time in the future, ask you for a favor if the chance arises?”

  I glared at Drake. He sounded a lot like someone trying not to laugh, and I couldn’t figure out what would be so funny. I didn’t like the feeling that there was more going on than I knew.

  At the same time, the thought that I might get to see Brennan again excited me. Even though I had no business being excited. At all. I needed to keep my thoughts in check. Heath. Potential boyfriend. Actually from this world, remember? I ignored the fact that my hope from earlier left me feeling flat and deflated.

  I realized that everyone had stopped their bickering to look at me, waiting for me to say something. Oh, great. I loved being the center of attention.

  “Yeah, sure. I do owe him. He helped Mom.” I smiled at her.

  “Now that it’s settled, I must go.” Drake looked to Nerida. “Mother, would you accompany me?”

  Nerida hesitated. “Imara, will you please come back with me?”

  My grandmother crossed her arms. “Why are you so inte
nt on my returning?”

  Nerida flushed. “I feel responsible for how things occurred when you left. I’ve never felt right. I feel as though I might make amends if you come back.”

  Imara glared. “You were not correct in your assumptions years ago. I have no reason to believe that you are correct now. I don’t wish to have my hopes dashed again. Thank you, Nerida, but I will decline your offer.”

  Nerida looked like she wanted to say more. Drake took two steps towards Nerida and pulled her back towards the house.

  “Mage? I think you should return as well. We have work to do.”

  Taranath ignored Drake to speak to me. “Iris, I would like to stay with your family for some time longer. I will make sure your mother continues to do well.”

  “I think that a sound idea.” Imara chimed in.

  Drake huffed. The guy really needed to ease up, but it didn’t seem to be part of his DNA. “I will convey your wishes to the king. You may converse with him when you finally choose to return. Mother, let us go.”

  He left, his anger trailing behind him. What the hell just happened there? These fae changed emotion like changing underwear.

  Why did I care?

  My mother was well. She wasn’t going to die.

  I shrugged and moved closer to my mom, who stood arm in arm with Dad. Imara murmured something I couldn’t hear, and at that moment the sun came out from behind a cloud to shine fiercely on the back yard.

  My mom and grandmother turned their faces up towards it. In that moment, I saw possibilities that I’d never considered.

  Brennan

  He sat on his throne, annoyed. There was much to do, and all he could manage was to sit and brood.

  Where was Drake? His mage? His mother?

  Why had Iris captivated them all? To the point that he was effectively abandoned. He didn’t want to delve into the fact that he experienced jealousy that others were still with her.

  His sorry musings were interrupted by the hum of the throne room portal. It had to be at least one of them. Brennan wanted to kick himself for being so glad to see someone in his inner circle.

  His mother and Drake stepped through the rose-colored light.

  “All is well in the Human Realm?” He allowed sarcasm to slide into his question.

  “It appears so. I’m annoyed that you left so abruptly, Brennan. You might have been able to persuade Imara to return with me.”

  Drake said, “No, Mother, I don’t believe he would have. She wanted nothing to do with you. Did you not see that?”

  Nerida waved a hand. “Everyone is far more unyielding when they are angry. She is still angry and—”

  “Doesn’t that indicate something?” Brennan couldn’t believe his mother’s ability to turn everything into what she wanted it to be.

  “Well, of course! She hasn’t been able to express her anger, and it’s got to come out before she can move on. She’ll join me. It may take a bit longer, however, and I would have liked her here now, Brennan,” she snapped.

  As though this was somehow his fault. How his father didn’t rend his hair from his head, Brennan couldn’t fathom.

  “Where is Taranath?” He moved away from his mother and her machinations.

  Drake answered. “He has decided he will stay there for a while longer to make sure the human woman is well, I believe.” Now Drake employed sarcasm.

  “Has everyone gone mad?” Brennan threw up his hands. “It’s as though the accidental meeting of one human girl has turned everything on its head!”

  “She is a most extraordinary girl,” Nerida said. “Let him know what she has agreed to, Drake. I will leave you now. I must go to your father.” Without waiting for a response, she opened the portal again and disappeared.

  It didn’t happen often but Nerida could still surprise him. Iris agreed to something? Why? “What? What is she talking about?”

  Drake’s face showed no expression. “Iris agreed that by helping her mother, you have the right to ask her for a favor at a later date.”

  Now he found himself momentarily speechless. “She what?”

  Drake nodded. “She agreed that you may ask.”

  Brennan found himself upset for Iris. “Did any of you bother to explain to her the significance of such an agreement? A promise made in Fae, between fae…” Such a promise was binding. The rational part of him knew that Iris should not be further tied to him.

  “Well, she was not actually in Fae, Brennan. She gave her agreement while in the Human Realm. I told her that she was under no obligation to agree—at least, I think I did,” Drake scratched his chin, thinking. “But that she did need to listen to you. That’s what she agreed to.”

  “You do realize what you’ve done?” Brennan could feel his temper rising once more. His anger hadn’t been this unsettled in ages. It needed to stop. His own realizations were problematic enough, now Drake had handed him a key to a door that he didn’t know if he wanted to open. He didn’t feel good about knowing the door could be opened.

  “Yes. I’ve ensured that you are not taken advantage of.”

  “As the king, don’t you think I might have the upper hand in terms of advantage?” Brennan had to raise an eyebrow at Drake. “Honestly, Drake, I’m not the babe-in-the-woods in this encounter. Iris is.”

  “Well, at least you’ve stopped calling her the human,” Drake said cheerfully, as though he hadn’t just involved Iris further in the realm of fae with his stupid agreement.

  “I know she’s the human!” Brennan snapped, unable to think of anything else, but unwilling to allow Drake to get the last word.

  “It’s good you know things,” Drake still sounded cheerful. “That’s usually one of the requirements of being king.”

  Brennan had to resist the urge to strangle him.

  “I’m sure the mage will return shortly. He’s being a good steward of fae. Why don’t we contact Father and see what he’s come up with regarding any allies of the former king?”

  “How good of you to remember what we’re dealing with,” Brennan couldn’t stop the sarcasm.

  It was also good that Drake was his brother in all the ways that counted. He ignored Brennan and his bad mood, and made the call to Father.

  For once, Brennan didn’t mind Drake taking the lead in gathering information. He couldn’t settle his mind to the task at hand.

  Bronoor entered as Drake spoke to their father. “Majesty, we have identified most of the fallen goblins. Those of whom we are unsure, we have been able to at least discern their clans. The heads of the clans are here to take home their kin.” He bowed his head.

  “Father,” Brennan turned to the mirror, speaking over Drake’s shoulder. “Please excuse me. I must meet with the heads of the clans here. Drake, you can use my quarters to continue this conversation.”

  Drake nodded, and the mirror with the image of the Fae King winked out. Bronoor bowed as Drake passed. Once Drake had left, Bronoor rose.

  “Shall I bring them in?”

  “Yes,” Brennan hated this part of being the king. Even more so because it had been so long since he’d had to take on this aspect.

  Bronoor moved from the room, and too soon returned, opening the doors to the throne room and standing aside to allow the clan leaders to file in.

  Brennan hadn’t returned to his throne, but received them standing. He wanted them to be clear that he was with them in this.

  “Majesty,” said Horgath, the oldest of all of the heads of the clans, and obviously the one chosen to speak for them. “What has happened to our kin?”

  Brennan sighed. It appeared they didn’t truly know, or were being extremely disingenuous. That wasn’t likely. Goblins were fairly honest. There were liars among all the races, but goblins preferred to be upfront and damn the consequences. He’d never had any reason to doubt Horgath or the others. He wouldn’t start now. If they gave him reason later, that would change things. But for now, they all mourned.

  “My lords,” he began, walking to
them. “I am sorry to have to share sad news with you. Will you sit and have a drink with me?” He gestured at the council table that sat off to one side of the throne room, behind a light curtain. He didn’t use it often, but it allowed for larger groups to meet in the formality of the throne room. Brennan thought the formality was called for now.

  Muttering among the clan heads, but they all trooped towards the table. Brennan waved a hand at Bronoor, who exited the room and before everyone had seated themselves, kitchen goblins were scurrying in carrying trays of drink and food.

  Brennan sniffed delicately. Good. Bronoor had sent in the light ale, rather than the heavy mead or the stronger spirit. This wasn’t the time to have too much spirit—that led to fighting and weapons, and he didn’t need more of that.

  Once everyone had a drink in front of them, Brennan walked to the head of the table and sat. He wanted to make sure he kept himself on equal footing with them. Not the king, but a fellow leader mourning the loss of their people. He didn’t know who was behind this, and better to tread carefully until he had a grasp on who or what was involved.

  “Yesterday,” was it just yesterday? He felt he’d aged one hundred years since then. “Lord Drake and I were traveling, and we stopped in one of our regular resting places to eat and water the horses.” He glanced around the table. Slight nods. The clearing was as well-known, as he’d thought.

  “Before we’d even broken out the packs, we were ambushed. A large number—”

  “Who dares to attack you?” The goblin next to Horgath—Fievolt, Brennan remembered—asked.

  “It was close to fifty. A few trolls, who looked to be from the mountain tribes, but most of the attackers were goblins. From my kingdom. From your clans.”

  He waited to see their reaction.

  Silence greeted his words. He could see a few glancing at one another, wanting to know if anyone knew of this. Brennan himself couldn’t see any sign that anyone had knowledge of it, but that meant nothing. Anyone could dissemble with practice.

  “Drake and I had no choice. We had to take up arms and defend ourselves.”

  “Did any survive?” Horgath growled.