The Goblin King

by Shona Husk

  “Will this work?”

  The goblin shrugged. “If it does, we are fools for not trying sooner. If it fails, then we have lived for as long as we can.”

  “Roan thinks he will get stuck in the Shadowlands.” It was why he’d insisted she leave and have Dai at her side as a precaution. When she’d argued, he told her she would be a distraction. Distraction brought death. They all had their role to play. The stage was set.

  Dai had found the diamonds. Roan had spent all but his last fragment of soul on making the handcuffs for the druid. She had to lure the druid close enough to put them on. It all seemed so easy, except she had never done anything so dangerous in her life.

  “We don’t know what will happen. Nineteen centuries is a long time to be alive and not quite human.”

  “You aren’t worried for your brother?”

  Dai sighed. “Of course I am. He is the only family I have.”

  The sting poked a hole in the fine fabric of sleep. She’d been so busy thinking about her possible loss that she’d not seen Dai was facing the loss of what was left of his family. She’d been there and survived. They would survive together and find a way to get Roan back. She lifted her head. No yellow eyes glowed in the corner. He’d closed them. Sometimes it was easier to be blind to reality.

  Eliza whispered, “If the curse breaks and he gets stuck, you can stay here.”

  There was silence from the shadow lurking in the corner. She’d offended him. He didn’t like her, so he certainly wouldn’t want her help.

  Then he spoke and his words sounded more like the rustling of leaves still on the tree, soft and full of longing as they reached for the sun. “Thank you. I’ve spent so long as a goblin, I’m not sure I can live in this world.”

  “Neither am I.” She yawned. A world without magic, love, and Roan would be as colorless as the Shadowlands.

  Eliza blinked. She lifted her hand against the sunlight washing the meadow with gentle heat. She’d fallen asleep. She didn’t need to speak his name. Thought alone was enough for Roan to appear.

  He smiled, but it was tight. He watched the sky for clouds and birds. “I can’t stay.”

  As he spoke, the grass at his feet turned brown. The Summerland dying from his touch. Deer grazed near the trees. They lifted their heads at the sound of his voice as if sensing the coming danger. Roan handed her the handcuffs, his hand clasping hers. The diamonds revealed their true fire as they caught the sun and held the heat in their heart. But they were still cool to touch, and the steel was heavy in her hand.

  She lifted her gaze from the handcuffs. Roan’s blue eyes challenged the sky of the Summerland in brilliance. Her dreams were tied up with him. Without his touch she would die. She reached up for a quick kiss, yet he dragged her close and she couldn’t hold back. Her hands disappeared in his hair. Lips went from gentle to crushing. She needed Roan more than air. His armor was hard against her skin. The thin fabric of her pajamas offered no protection, but there was too much between them and they were out of time.

  Roan loosened his hold and ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “I’ll see you in the Fixed Realm.”

  Her lips burned and her eyes stung, but she forced a smile. Then he was gone. Where he had been standing, the grass grew back, breaking through the ground and uncurling in a few heartbeats as if he had never stood there. Among the green blades were tiny pink flowers. They grew only where Roan had touched.

  Eliza picked one. The pink flower was no bigger than her thumbnail. She tucked it behind her ear and sat down to wait with the handcuffs tucked under her leg. As her fingers traced the curved edge, she realized Roan had never given her the key. The sun lost its warmth as she realized why—the druid would die with them on. She removed her hand from the cuff and tried to enjoy her surroundings. She was one of the few people who got to enjoy the beauty of the Summerland.

  It was the same as it had always been. The same as the day Roan had brought her here to give her the bead when she was sixteen. She understood why now. He hadn’t wanted her to see him as a goblin. So instead she’d seen him dressed in his usual black, armed like a warrior. No living man could ever match up with the memory he’d left her with. No man would ever be able to live up to the reality. She wouldn’t be able to come back here if she knew he wasn’t waiting. Would she ever be able to dream again without him?

  No, this had to work. All curses could be broken no matter what Roan said. But a kiss hadn’t worked, and her offering to be queen and lying with him hadn’t worked. The Summerland offered no hints.

  Around her, deer grazed. Butterflies dressed in impossibly bright hues danced over the meadow. The sky remained cloudless. It was like a kiddie cartoon. And she was bored…well, not bored exactly, but waiting was dragging out the inevitable. Did the druid know of the plan?

  She swallowed and checked her watch. The hands spun with no regard for the passing of time. Was she really waiting when nothing in the Summerland changed?

  Eliza plucked half a dozen of Roan’s pink flowers. She could make her own measure of time. With her nail she split the emerald green stem then threaded another flower through it. The wait would be measured by the length of the pink flower chain.

  A crown rested on her hair and a bracelet hung off each wrist before she was out of flowers. She ran her hand over the place where Roan had stood, but no trace of him remained. The grass darkened as if thrown into shadow. Eliza looked up. She didn’t need to shield her eyes—the sun was a pale disk smothered by gray clouds. The Shadowlands was coming for her.

  The crow swooped through the sky, death and decay rolling behind him in a tide of unstoppable gray. The deer lifted their heads. As the wave of death reached them, their sleek, fat bodies thinned so bones pushed hard against their patchy pelt. These were the animals that roamed the Shadowlands, animals that spelled hunger and starvation at the end of a hard winter. These were the animals Roan and his men had hunted to survive.

  The dying grass swept toward her and surrounded her. Eliza forced herself to remain sitting. There was no sense in running from the druid. The crow rushed past. Feathers hit her cheek.

  She turned and yelled, “Kill me. I want to die. Set me free.”

  The words sounded like lies to her ears, but the crow turned sharply. Eliza turned to face the waiting bird. She crossed her bare toes and hoped Roan was listening and really nearby in case the druid killed her before she could snap on the handcuffs.

  “The Goblin King has trapped me. He seeks to keep me. Help me…please.” Out of her mouth came Roan’s words, carefully crafted to appeal to the druid’s vanity, his belief in his superior power and his hatred of Roan.

  The bird landed. Feathers shook and a man appeared. He wore a white robe and plain boots. He’d never updated his look, or maybe he couldn’t since he hadn’t left the Shadowlands in nineteen hundred years. His curse had bound him to the Shadowlands, and unlike Roan, he wasn’t goblin so he couldn’t use people’s nightmares as a means to visit the Fixed Realm. She squashed the pang of pity that tried to gain hold on her heart. This man would kill her without thought if it meant he would be free.

  “How do I break his hold? I don’t want to be a goblin queen.”

  The druid approached. His face was blank, colder than the gray dust beneath her knees. He squatted in front of her and reached out with his bony hand to grasp her chin. Staring into his eyes was like peering through the empty socket of a skull. Only shadows lurked where once a man had been. Iced nails scraped down her spine, touching each nerve and drawing it tight.

  “Only death can grant freedom. Your choice, his or yours.”

  Eliza swallowed. Her fingers closed on the handcuffs. All she had to do was latch them over his wrist. They would close and lock. Her heart slowed, pumping strange, thick blood through her limbs. Her muscles obeyed but every action was delayed.

  “Or maybe he should choose.” The druid turned her head as if studying her. “Shall we find out whose life he values more?” He leaned in
close, his fingers caressing her cheek, and he whispered in her ear, “He’s goblin, so I think we both know the answer.”

  Her body caught up with her mind. She slid the handcuffs from under her leg and wrapped the metal around the wrist of the hand gripping her face. The cuff snapped closed around the druid’s arm and shrunk until it cut into his skin.

  The druid yanked his hand back. “What is this? What manner of trickery?” He clawed at the steel. His face twisted as he tried to comprehend what had happened.

  Eliza scrambled away. Her feet hit something solid, and she glanced over her shoulder. Sword drawn, gun holstered. She knelt at the feet of her warrior. Roan touched her hair. His hand was gentle, but his fierce gaze remained on the druid. Then she fell until the dream became reality.

  Her body jerked awake with the impact. The mattress was as hard as stone. She sat up, her breath burning her lungs. The shadows in her bedroom swelled, taking the shape of a goblin. A sword cut through the moonlight and stopped one inch from her neck.

  A scream caught in her teeth. Her eyes were wider than the attacking goblin’s.

  “What happened?” Dai lowered the sword.

  Eliza swallowed. Her throat was rough like sandpaper. “He sent me back.”

  “Did you cuff the bastard?”

  She nodded.

  Dai slammed his sword into his sheath. He held his hands out in the silvery light. They both watched, looking for a pinkening of skin that would mark the end of the curse. Seconds stretched out into years as the world held its breath, waiting for the return of the last Decangli king.

  ***

  Roan swung his blade as he stalked toward Elryion. If he used magic, his soul would crumble into dust. One wrong step and he would be taken by the depthless abyss. If the diamond had failed to work, Elryion would have already flown away. But the diamond held him trapped. For the first time in too many years, Roan had the upper hand. The druid was his for the killing.

  He drew in a breath of tasteless air. This was a moment to savor.

  Elryion stepped back. Blood welled from the scratches on his wrist. “What magic is this?”

  “No magic.” The sword was light in his hand. He was within striking distance. One well-placed slice would kill him fast. A dozen well-placed cuts would kill him slow. There were still important decisions to make before the druid died.

  Elryion tensed, his face turned red, but no magic came to his aid. “You break the old laws if you kill me.”

  The laws the druid clung to had died out hundreds of years ago along with the rest of the British tribes. Once he had feared breaking the old rules, believing shedding druid blood would only damn them further. Now he was beyond caring. “I would be a free criminal over a cursed goblin any day of the week.” He flicked the sword.

  “Your soul will never find peace.”

  “What other damnation could be wrought on me?” He leveled the sword at Elryion’s chest. The blade would slip smoothly past the ribs and rip through the druid’s heart—assuming he still had one.

  “Free me, damn yourself.” Elryion dropped his hands to his side. He gazed calmly at Roan, a smile on his thin lips. “My death will achieve nothing.”

  The sword didn’t move. Calm flowed through Roan.

  “I’ll take the chance.” Roan thrust the sword, knowing the death of the last druid would forever stain his hands.

  Elryion twitched. Disbelief stretched his features. He looked down at the sword impaling his body.

  “How does it feel having your heart filled with cold metal? An undeserved fate delivering your death?” Roan pulled his sword free. Elryion’s flesh sucked at the blade as if reluctant to release the weapon. “I have lived for this moment.”

  “Then you have wasted your life.” Scarlet bubbles colored Elryion’s lips.

  “You denied me my life.” Everything he should’ve done, should’ve been, had passed him by. A future was all he hoped for.

  Elryion’s legs buckled. Blood splashed onto the gray dust. “I protected our people.”

  “You damned us all. Every Decangli who died because of Rome is your responsibility.” Every one of his people that he was ordered to kill at the command of the Roman general was because of Elryion. Roan grabbed the white robes. His sword fell to the ground and lay naked in the dust. “You cursed the wrong man. I would have protected us. We could’ve fought back and won.”

  Breath ceased to move the body of the druid. Roan let the corpse fall from his hand. It bounced softly in the dust.

  “It’s over.”

  Blood spilled from the wound. The dirt drank its fill until the ground was sodden and seemed to bleed in sympathy over such a heinous crime. The cold ache in his chest increased. He placed a hand over his heart. No beat stirred his blood. He closed his eyes and sank to his knees. The one death that should’ve meant something failed to stir even the smallest response.

  “It’s over.” He thumped his fist against his chest as if to kick-start the reluctant muscle. But he knew his heart wouldn’t respond. It was still cast in gold. He was still trapped and his soul was sliding through his fingers.

  The sweet darkness of a whispered promise offered no more fighting. All he had to do was let go. Let go and he could be reborn as a goblin. He ignored the star that marred the endless night and reached out into the darkness, but what looked like velvet cut like razors. Roan pulled his hand back. There would be no peace in giving up, only an eternity of denied fulfillment. A craving never satisfied. The only desire he had was to feel Eliza’s skin beneath his fingertips one more time. Let her warmth encase him and her smile free him. The white star bloomed like a supernova on the horizon so bright he had to open his eyes to escape the glare.

  The body of the last druid lay sullen in the dirt. If the gods still cared, they might forgive him. If they didn’t, he no longer cared. His fight was over. There was only one way left to avoid fading. Roan picked up his sword and wiped the blade clean on the edge of Elryion’s robe. Then he stood and sheathed the blade. Never had a death achieved so little.

  “May you drink in the Hall of the Gods.” He took a handful of dirt. “I doubt there’ll be a place for me.” Roan threw the gray dust over the corpse in a token burial. He refused to use the magic that would damn him to burn the man who had tried.

  He would have the last victory.

  He would die when he was ready.

  He would love Eliza one last time.

  Then it would be over.

  Roan turned his back and fell into the Fixed Realm. He didn’t see the pale green shoots that peeked out from the gray dust, marking where he had knelt. And he didn’t see them die when he left.

  Chapter 17

  The shadows bent to his will as Roan moved between the realms on a whim. His heart remained silent, a fist of gold that wouldn’t melt. Stepping into the bedroom where Dai and Eliza waited took more courage than facing an entire Roman legion.

  The beads in his hair whispered his failings in his ear. His queen and brother turned. They may not be able to see him, but they knew he was there, wrecking the dream and bringing despair. Their desperate hope was etched on their faces. The unanswered questions that pulled their lips tore at his innards with wounds that would never heal. He had failed.

  Roan released the shadows. He would be seen while he faced the jury. He would tell the truth and pay the penalty.

  Dai severed the silence. Their language was twisted by the rasping goblin voice. “What happened?”

  The words bled out, smothering the dream of life after curse. How could he tell his brother it was over? That Elryion had spoken the truth. His death had only bought their death.

  Roan looked at Eliza. She had risked her life to help and he could never repay her. He spoke in English because she deserved to know, even if she didn’t want to believe.

  “Elryion is dead.” The sweet metallic scent of sacred druid blood clung to his sword, his skin, his soul.

  Neither moved. His announcement had turned El
iza and Dai to stone. But he knew what they were thinking. They knew what it meant. The choice was very simple—fade or die. Goblin or suicide. He wanted a third option. Any third option would do. He had a cavern full of gold and still he couldn’t buy the correct answer.

  “But nothing happened.” Eliza’s forehead creased. “You’re still—”

  “When?” Dai cut her off.

  Roan closed his eyes and took a breath.

  When? When was a good time to die? Today? Tonight? Next week? A year from now? When would he be ready to leave Eliza? He would fade before he was ready.

  Roan gave Dai a pointed look. “I would spend some time with Eliza first.”

  Dai nodded. His wide, yellow eyes still understood the human need to say good-bye. Shadows engulfed him as he withdrew to the Shadowlands. Then Roan was alone with Eliza.

  She slid off the bed, dressed for sleep but wide awake. “What now?”

  Roan stood his ground even though he wanted to retreat into the shadows and hide his face from his queen.

  “Nothing.” His fingers reached out. He touched the tangled strands of her hair. It was softer than silk against his skin. He was caught in a web of broken dreams and desire.

  She shook her head. He let his hand drop. His skin craved her warmth, the softness of her body, the sigh of her breath against his ear.

  “There can be no tomorrow, Eliza. It’s over.”

  “It can’t be over.” She gripped his hand as if she could stop him from leaving “There has to be a way.”

  He flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t pull away from the person who had held his gray hand and not recoiled in fear. The heat from her skin seeped through his flesh, searing deep. But it still couldn’t soften his heart.

  “I don’t have the time left to keep looking.” He touched her cheek. “I don’t want to quit. But the alternative is worse. The goblin I become won’t be me.” No matter how hard he tried to believe otherwise, none of the goblins he’d studied had held onto even a glimmer of humanity.