Beauty and the Goblin King (Fairy Tale Heat Book 1)

by Lidiya Foxglove

  I’m sure the witch who cursed me assumed that no true connection could ever be made between two hearts and minds when such desire was in the way, but I could imagine still loving Sabela when we were old and wizened. The concern and compassionate she showed to me and my people, her inquisitiveness and good humor, would suit her well to me until the day we died, I was sure.

  But she still had one more test to pass, and that was the one where every other girl had failed, even the ones who managed the first two. I was forbidden from warning her. As the petals on her rose began to wither and fall, my dread increased.

  Soon, I would sleep without knowing whether she would be the one to wake me.

  Chapter Nine

  The rose was dying. Nyar said that there was nothing I could do but wait. We had spent one week together, one perfect week.

  I stayed up nights now, with Nyar, but he had to sleep as soon as the sun rose. I stayed up a little longer.

  Before I went to sleep, I looked at the rose. It was so much worse than the last time I had checked it! Half its petals had fallen and the remaining ones were turning brown, and I knew in that moment that we wouldn’t have another night.

  I was glad he slept. I cried and cried until tears stung my eyes. The goblins hovered a distance away, clearly concerned.

  I wiped my face with the hem of my dress. “I hope I haven’t made a complete fool out of myself just now,” I told them. “I don’t know if goblin maidens sob like that. But I’m just…scared.”

  The butter dish hopped over to me, and gave it a little pat. (It was hard to know how to interact with inanimate objects in such a way, especially when I imagined some of them might turn into fierce goblin warriors when the curse was lifted.)

  More of the goblins clustered around me, and I suppose they didn’t know how to comfort me either.

  Then, the grandfather clock chimed, and I knew I had to sleep.

  I thought I would toss and turn with worry, but in fact, I fell asleep quickly, only to slip into a very vivid dream.

  The beautiful young faery maiden had just come of age, but her strict mother still refused to let her leave the safety of their hamlet in Pony’s Brook. Never was the girl allowed to have any fun.

  Keely had always been an obedient daughter, but she was beginning to find obedience unbearable, especially at the festival of Beltane. On this night, the humans would leave offerings out for the fair folk. The young faeries would travel from holding to holding across the countryside, in merry bands, taking the offerings, and if they were insufficient, they played tricks. Nothing too harmful, as no one wanted wars to erupt between clans, but little things. Stealing a chicken or a tool from the farm shed, pissing in the well bucket, burning a wall with a brand that meant “fools!” or “stingy!”

  Faery clans often met for these occasions, even mingling with the goblins and elves. And when they came back from their pranking, they would enjoy bonfires, feasting, and dancing, until the sun rose over the hills.

  It sounded like such fun, such a good opportunity to flirt with young men without being watched and lectured every moment. Other girls were allowed. The rules were lax on that night—unless you had Keely’s mother.

  That night, as soon as her mother fell asleep, Keely snuck out to hurry toward the revels. She met with a large band of faeries just as they were making off with a basket of cakes, and they welcomed her into their fold.

  All through the night, Keely had her eye on one young man in particular. She had never seen him before, so he must be from a far flung clan. His clothes were plain, but superbly fitted, and he needed no adornment in any case, for he was certainly one of the loveliest young men she had ever seen. Golden hair, blue eyes, full lips, broad shoulders… She was already dreaming of what it would be like to kiss him tonight. Her first kiss.

  Her mother had told her to be careful of young men, to protect her maidenhood, but Keely was just an innocent—what did she know of the charms of young men?

  He had a few friends with him, not as handsome as he was, though not bad either. She approached him with a few of her own friends, and soon he had asked her for a dance, as her friends paired off with his friends.

  From the first moment, he held her like she had never been held, and gazed at her like she had never been gazed at.

  “Where are you from?” he asked her.

  “The south,” he said, vaguely.

  “Have you come a long way?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Will you be staying for a time?”

  “That depends…” He smiled, and she smiled back, and tried to muster every feminine charm in her arsenal, because she certainly hoped he would stay.

  Her friends had moved on to other men, but Keely was losing herself.

  “What is your name, sir?” A few dances in, they stopped to catch their breath, and she realized that she didn’t even know it.

  “Rowan.”

  A common enough name. She nodded, sipping wine, growing a bit tipsy. “Keely.”

  “Where do you live, Keely?”

  “On the riverbank. We’re water faeries, my mother and I.”

  “That explains the blue of your eyes.”

  He danced with her for most of the night, and although their conversation remained light and witty, she felt she knew him by the end. She quickly she grew comfortable with the touch of his hands, his dimpled smile, the way he arched one brow at her.

  One of her friends tried to pull her away from him. “You ought to be careful of him, Keely. No one’s sure where he and his friends came from and he’s been monopolizing you all night.”

  “And what if he is? Isn’t that what such a night is for? Falling in love?”

  “But surely he won’t stay. You should dance with one of the young men we know well.”

  Keely shook her head. “I know them too well. I have never met a man like him.”

  She started to avoid her friends, because she knew they would keep an eye on her to keep her from getting in trouble with her strict mother. She pulled Rowan away, in the shadows of rocks and brush, away from the party.

  She started complaining to him about all the problems of her young life, how her mother never let her have any fun, how life by the river was so boring, how she had always wondered what the southlands were like…

  It seemed likely that he hadn’t listened to a word she said, and it didn’t matter anyway. He brushed back a lock of her hair and kissed her.

  She melted into that kiss. His hands went around her, his strong warm body like nothing she had ever felt.

  “Beautiful,” he said, and no one had ever said that to her before either. She was pretty enough for a faery but hardly the most beautiful girl in the clan.

  Soon, he had swept her into his arms and put her down upon the grasses. She looked at his golden face, his hair glowing with moonlight. She knew something was going to happen.

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  “Scared of what? Surely not of me.”

  “No…I…I suppose I’m scared of what my mother will say.”

  “Well, she isn’t here, is she?” He laughed. His hand stroked her bare leg, reaching beneath her skirts.

  “I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”

  “I’ll be very gentle with you, pretty one. Unless you’re too scared…”

  “Oh, no, no…” Keely was scared, but not too scared. She wanted to know more of him.

  He hitched up her skirts.

  When it was over, he gave her a sachet and said, “You should brew that into a tea, otherwise you might find yourself with a babe.”

  “Oh—but—where will you be? What if we wanted a babe?”

  He laughed. “We certainly don’t.”

  “You aren’t going back to the southlands, are you? After this?”

  “It’s Beltane night,” he said. “This is not the night you find the man you’ll marry. It’s the night you enjoy yourself.”

  “But—I love you!”

  He knead
ed the bridge of his nose. “You certainly don’t, be sure of that.” Then he crouched on one knee before her, took her hand, and said, “It was a wonderful night. I’d do it again. But I’m young and so are you. And I don’t think you really want to be my bride.”

  “I—I do…I…”

  He patted her head but then left in rather a hurry, and at this point Keely started to sob in earnest. One of her friends found her and started scolding her. “There you are! We were all looking for you! You didn’t do anything with that strange man, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Keely said, realizing now that she had been stupid. She had to pull herself together.

  She went home, where her mother was waiting, already looking skeptical.

  Keely’s mother was no ordinary woman. She was the most powerful water witch for a hundred miles in any direction, and Keely was her only child. Her only disappointment with her beautiful daughter was that she was so gullible, so eager to be liked…and no great talent with magic, either.

  Well, in fact, there were quite a few reasons to be disappointed in Keely. But her mother still loved her as fiercely as any mother ever loved a daughter…or at least, she loved the idea of what Keely might be molded into, if she would only behave herself.

  “I hope it went all right,” she said.

  “It did…”

  “You look very pale.” Her mother sniffed. “I smell something.”

  Keely was horrified. Could her mother smell what she had done?

  But no, it was the herbs her mother smelled. She used them for spells at times, herself. She reached in Keely’s pocket and took out the satchet. “What’s this?”

  Keely tried to make up excuses, but her mother found out the truth in no time, and she flew into a rage. She made the brook that flowed just outside their door churn and roll, and then she grabbed her cloak and shoved open the door.

  “Where are you going?” Keely cried.

  “To find him!”

  The water witch was very good at tracking people, for men never got very far in those parts without crossing a stream, and nothing gossiped like water, if you knew how to speak its language. She borrowed the swiftest horse in the village and rode until she found him.

  But the water witch did not see the beautiful, golden fairy her daughter had slept with. She saw an ugly goblin with horns and fangs, riding along and laughing with his companions as if nothing had ever happened.

  “You!” she cried. “You defiled my Keely!”

  He turned. “Defiled? She very much enjoyed it.”

  “A goblin? She enjoyed a goblin?”

  “Well, I didn’t quite look like this at the time…” He snapped his fingers and produced a glamour, and now she saw what had turned Keely’s head. “But it was never my intention to hurt the girl. She was hungry for her first taste of it, I’d say.”

  “You’re the young goblin king from the Green Caverns, aren’t you?”

  “At your service, madam. We just like to have a bit of fun on Beltane.”

  The water witch had never been so angry in her life. This young man had upset her precious, rather gullible daughter, and he didn’t even seem to realize it. They said the newly crowned king had been putting off taking a queen, having fun with the young women instead.

  The water witch had not one shred of patience for a goblin trickster.

  “You like the ladies, do you?”

  “Ah, you can hardly blame him,” one of his friends said. “He’s been locked up with old tutors, teaching him swordsmanship and politics.”

  “I am, after all, a goblin,” the goblin king said, unapologetically. “We’re meant to have a bit of fun.”

  “I can blame him, and I shall. If you like women so much, goblin king, you will have more of them can you could ever imagine.”

  The water witch began to cast a curse, a curse that went far beyond her usual skill with magic. Her rage fueled her, allowing her to tap into deep dark magic, and water swirled around her as lightning crackled, so that even the cavalier young goblin king started to back away, drawing his sword.

  “I shall lock you in a prison of your lust!” she screamed. “Your subjects will tend to your every need but they will never speak to you or even offer you the warmth of their gaze! Meanwhile, you must make it known that you will rut with any girl who comes to your door and give her a gold coin for every night—as long as she is a human girl!” For the witch knew that no one found goblins uglier than humans, and she didn’t care much for humans herself. She didn’t want any other faery girls to suffer, that was certain. “You will be consumed with your desire every waking hour, and the only girl who can set you free is a girl who loves your true heart more than beauty or money—if you have a true heart, you dirty goblin.”

  The goblin king spurred on his horse, trying to outrun her, but the curse had already taken hold. As soon as he reached his home, he found that all of his subjects had turned into objects, and a sensation of desperate desire was already sweeping over him, a desire which he was unable to ease, but he could not go past the gates of his holdings. All he could do was send messenger birds to the nearest cities, laying out the terms that the witch had set for him, pleading for any woman who could ease the ache in his loins.

  But the witch had also underestimated how much the curse would take out of her. It was not enough to cast the curse, she had to go to the goblin king’s cavern and see how he suffered. She dove into the river and let her body transform into water, flowing to the Green Caverns. She was so focused on her revenge that once she got there, she realized she was trapped herself—not by a physical curse, but by fury. Because she could not let go of her anger, her anger held her in the goblin king’s river, and as the years went by, her fury increased. If ever a girl managed to break the curse, the water witch vowed to kill her.

  I woke from my sleep in a panic.

  The dream—

  Who had given me such a dream?

  If Nyar had meant to send it to me himself, he had not portrayed himself in the most flattering light. The young goblin king was, indeed, a trickster, to have used a glamour to fool naive young fairy maidens. I saw some of the Nyar I knew in the dream, but he had certainly grown with the years. I couldn’t imagine him acting the same way now.

  If the water witch was the one to tell the story, that also seemed odd, because she was not the hero of the piece either. The vengeful witch had ruined her own life along with the man she hoped to punish.

  There was one other person in the dream, and her fate was unknown, but the dream seemed like her memory, more than anyone’s. Keely?

  I wondered what had happened to her, after her mother disappeared. Did she still live? She would be Nyar’s age, then, still fairly young.

  This did make one thing clear—Nyar and the man in the coffin were one and the same.

  I understand—I was right about the second test. If I had gone to Nyar’s beautiful form, I would have chosen his appearance over his mind and heart—and failed.

  As soon as I got to my feet and looked to find my breakfast, my heart dropped to my toes. There was no breakfast, just a brown satchel—and a note.

  Dear Sabela,

  Your rose has wilted. You have made it this far. Please take my gold back to your family, with my well wishes.

  —The Goblin King

  The bag was packed with gold coins, and on top, buttered oatcakes tied up in a cloth. The water flask I had brought with me was here too, filled with water.

  “No…no…”

  ‘The Goblin King’…not Nyar? What did it mean?

  I didn’t pick up the money, but turned on my bare foot and ran down the hallways in my nightgown, calling Nyar’s name, calling for the goblins, but the whole castle had gone quiet. I almost sensed that they were mourning and could not bear to see me, although perhaps they were forbidden in any case. The rose was just a withered brown stem now. I was reluctant to go to the grotto, but finally it seemed my only option. The river was churning and splashin
g, and I could hear the water witch laughing.

  You have failed, pretty human. Go home to your family!

  “No!” I cried. “Why do you do this? Why are you still tormenting him this way?”

  I will torment him until the day he dies. And I will be happy to send you to an early grave, if you come a bit closer…

  I shied back, shaking my head, and ran back up the stairs.

  Was this really it? Was it all over for me?

  I returned to my room, regarding the bag of gold.

  This gold would save my family’s fortunes.

  Or would it? I wondered.

  If my family was sensible, the gold would keep them in comfort for the rest of their lives. But they were not sensible, not content with ‘enough’. My sisters expected luxuries. They needed a regular income, not a sack of gold, which they would run through in no time.

  More than that, I couldn’t bear to take Nyar’s gold. I had never come here for the gold. It was always the thought of him that lured me, and now I couldn’t imagine living any other life but at his side. I decided I would not give a single piece of Nyar’s gold to my family.

  I poured out the gold, packing only the food and water in the satchel. I even left behind the coins I had earned. I didn’t want anything from him except…him. I dressed in the clothes I had brought from home. The only thing I stole from Nyar’s house was the healing stone that was shaped like his cock, because I wasn’t sure I could bear to go a night without something to remind me of the way he felt inside me. I thought he would approve of this small bit of wickedness. It seemed very goblin-like.

  I laced up my boots, trying my best to shove away the heavy feeling of despair inside me. I still had one glimmer of hope.

  I needed to find the water witch’s daughter.

  Chapter Ten

  The journey back felt much longer than the journey there. For one thing, there was no rain this time. The sun was bright and hot, and I was no longer used to it. I had been adjusting to the soft, sparkling lights of the caverns, and the consistent, cool temperature. Now I could feel heat beating on my back with every step. I had to keep my cloak on and the hood up to prevent sunburn, but it was so heavy.