The Goblin Market (Into the Green)

by Jennifer Melzer

  “That is hardly fair. I’ve done nothing to deserve your distrust.”

  “Perhaps not, but neither has this elf. Him, Kothar promised me that I would never make it through the Wald alive. Don’t you see this could be my only chance to save my sister?”

  He closed his eyes and dropped his chin into his shoulder for a moment. “Merry, everything inside of me tells me that this is wrong and he will lead us only to disaster. He claims to come from the Nine Length Kingdom, a kingdom that perished more than seven hundred years...”

  “Did I mention I have maps?” Gorigast spoke up, as though he’d been party to their disagreement all along. “Maps to every important land mark in the Darknjan Wald.” Meredith reached out to inspect one of the scrolls, but the elf snatched it away before she could touch it. “No touching. If you wish to see, then I will show, but no touching.”

  “Of course not,” she agreed, before turning hopeful eyes upward.

  Him looked inside of her for what felt like an eternity and in those moments the closeness they had shared in the dark came rushing back to her. They were of one heart and she could feel him resonating closely with her again.

  “My apologies, Gorglegest. If the lady wishes for you to lead us on our way, I would be honored to follow.”

  The elf seemed to sneer contempt, but made no gesture to correct Him. “Then for her majesty, I will show the way, but never for Him.”

  “But he is my consort,” she insisted. “Where I go, he goes. Is there not some way that we might compromise?”

  She could tell without even looking that Him’s temper was on the verge of a meltdown and if they didn’t reach a concession soon no one would be going anywhere. She laid her hand on Him’s forearm and felt the muscles tighten beneath her fingers.

  “Perhaps we could start over again and leave our differences behind us?” She lifted her gaze hopefully, “Him?”

  “Yes,” he yielded to her. “Yes, of course. If he truly promises to help you, then I will honor him.”

  “Helping her Majesty is my only task,” Gorigast rasped. “I live only to see her home to the castle.”

  Only no one had heard him say the castle was her home. Meredith was much too relieved that the blessing of his help had fallen on them to have paid it much attention, and Him was obviously still preoccupied with the decision he had made. Sir Gwydion certainly would have never made such a poor decision, and Meredith knew it the moment Him glanced back over his shoulder toward the shore they’d left behind.

  They took the last few steps off of the bridge and onto the shore of the Darknjan Wald.

  “Shall we have a look at those maps then?”

  “Remember, no touching,” Gorigast warned as he pulled out the host of scrolls he had used to map out the Darknjan Wald throughout the years. Each was labeled in the outer right hand corner with strange markings Meredith recognized as letters or maybe they were numbers, but they were unlike any she had ever seen before. “The Wald is full of magical traps and tricks,” he told them, his attention more focused on Meredith than Him when he spoke. “Riddles and deception wait at every turn so first you must be cautious and alert, and always listen to me.”

  “Of course,” Meredith agreed, much to Him’s dismay.

  “Now where is that path?” Gorigast begun to mutter under his breath. He wandered forward without taking his eyes from his maps.

  Him turned a skeptical gaze on her and said, “We’re already off to a brilliant start.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, a gesture that made Him shake his head, before they picked up their feet and began to follow where their new guide led.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They had only been traveling for a little while before the tremendous heaviness of the Darknjan Wald settled in on their shoulders. Meredith had never been one for feminine theatrics, but there was a part of her that wanted to give in and swoon. Perhaps if she fainted, she would open her eyes and find that every moment of the last three days had been a dream. The only downside to that was she would wake and find that Him wasn’t real.

  Scanning the wood around them, it felt as if the dimensions were off, or simply lacking altogether and the constant uncertainty of everything around her began to make her feel dizzy.

  Everything in the Darknjan Wald was dead, or worse, under some strange enchantment that had slowed down any signs of life. Thickly woven black branches braided together so tightly that the sky was completely obstructed from view, save for the few rare openings that reflected only a milky gloom more bitter than any fog she’d ever known. The curious creaks and groans that followed them suggested that the darkness itself was alive and operating under its own malignant rules.

  Him took it all in with equal wonder. He had only ever heard horror stories from the Darknjan Wald, and so far the heavy feeling that hung over them was more terrifying than any story he might have once listened to by a warm fire. From time to time he would shudder and look behind them to try and identify the source of the long, lamenting moans that followed everywhere they went. The place itself was beyond haunted, the twisted memories of the lush land all but lost to sickening hatred and rot.

  Gorigast, completely unfazed by it all, remained wrapped up in his maps while muttering to himself about things lost and found again.

  No one had spoken since they’d stepped into the Wald, but occasionally Gorigast’s strange mutterings could be discerned among the Wald’s complaint. Gnarled branches stretched ominously high and created a downcast of shadow within shadow that felt like a suffocating pair of arms around them, and with each step they took whatever was left behind them was swallowed into the nothing.

  Meredith had never known such claustrophobia in her life, and the continual thought of it created a wicked sense of loathing inside. Nothing in the world was worth the pressure she felt, not vengeance, not even her own sister, and that was where she sunk into her own sadness even deeper.

  “This is ten times worse than Ambiance Grove,” she muttered. “It’s as if the darkness is some wretched, living thing, breathing, thinking, plotting, murdering, and devouring us piece by piece.”

  Him leaned closer to her, but there was little comfort in his reassurance. The emotion he hid behind his own eyes gave way to the notion that he was equally frightened.

  They had been walking for some time, only their surroundings had not changed at all. Every eleventh tree they passed hosted the same bulbous knot midway up the trunk, and the tree beside it forked off in the same Y pattern. The likelihood was beginning to seem absurd and to top it off, Him had noticed other similarities as well, including a correspondence in the timing of a particularly long moan in the trees.

  So far they made no turns, at least not any he recognized, and he was beyond certain a straight route to Kothar’s castle was not in existence.

  Maps or no maps, the elf was obviously not to be trusted. No one claimed to be of the Nine Length Kingdom anymore, a realm that had become legend centuries ago. King Fwyll had been a very appropriate name, as in his haste to expand his riches, he had bet his entire kingdom on the outcome of a unicorn race, and the very next day the Nine Length Kingdom became a part of Dame Maeve and Finvarra’s realm.

  There was something very wrong with that elf, and if Him had his way, it wouldn’t be long before they broke off from his company and found the way to the castle on their own.

  “Are you certain you know where we’re going, Gorgumgust.” He must have been mad agreeing to follow that fool of an elf with his encrusted mind and withered maps.

  The pressure had been building up in Meredith as well, and when Him spoke out, she halted beside him and announced, “Him is right. There is something horribly wrong here. We’ve been going around in circles.”

  Gorigast looked up from his maps and turned toward them. “Circles, you say?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Afraid?” His head lowered against his shoulder in curiosity. “There’s nothing to fear, Majesty. Unless of co
urse you’ve seen something dreadful,” he jittered around in paranoia, turning his head this way and that. “Something with large teeth.” His whole body bobbed as he swallowed and tucked into himself just a little more closely. "You haven't, have you?"

  Meredith crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet as if in firm protest of going further. “No, I am afraid we are on the wrong path. That is what I am afraid of. We’ve been going on and on in circles. I noticed it a while ago.”

  “Well,” Gorigast snorted and rubbed the end of his tattered sleeve beneath his nose. “Is that all? And here I thought we were being followed.” He glanced behind himself again just to be sure and then returned his attention to the map he’d been studying.

  “The lady is right. We must be on the wrong path.”

  “Must we, must we?” Gorigast clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head so that a few of the long strands of his hair fell into his face. “And what would he know about the ways of the Wald, hmm? Been here many times before has he, traveled all of the paths? Found his way to the castle dozens of times?”

  “That is not what I said,” Him’s jaw clenched tight in defense.

  “Gorigast, what Him is trying to say…” She rested her hand on Him’s forearm to try and placate him just a little. “What Him means is that something doesn’t seem right. Unless we are meant to travel in circles, then we must be on the wrong path.”

  “But we are meant to circle the knot, circle the knot two hundred and seventy-three times, see?” He held the map outright for her to see, but she could hardly make out the strange scribbles. “Upon the two-hundred and seventy-fourth approach, we will turn left into the glen. It all says so right here.”

  “The two-hundred and seventy-fourth approach?” Him shook his head. “This is preposterous. Let me see that map.”

  “No touching!” Gorigast shrieked and leapt backward. “It’s mine.”

  “Him.” Meredith drew him to the side and spoke in soft tones meant for his ears only. “I know this is all beyond insane, and the very air of this place is weighing so heavily on us all. Losing our tempers isn’t going to make any of this easier.”

  “I don’t trust him, Merry.” The muscles of his jaw tightened and flexed. “He’s leading us straight into trouble.”

  “We don’t know that,” she whispered.

  “I have felt it.” He twisted his face in a tormented grimace and looked away from her optimistic gaze. “Merry, I know in my heart that there is something very wrong. Tell him not,” and here he leaned so close and whispered so softly that even she had to strain herself to hear him, “but I believe he does know the way to the castle. He’s stalling...”

  “Stalling or no, at this point he is our only hope.”

  “Hope,” the word sounded as though it had gotten caught in the back of his throat. He began to nod, but in defeat more than agreement.

  Where she needed to go, he would follow, even if his instincts cried out death. With a slow grace, he reached forward and looped his finger though a stray lock of hair that had fallen against her cheek. Lifting it behind her ear, he blinked slowly and looked away again.

  “For you and you alone, I will continue to humor this... this... fool, but let it be known I am beyond wary of his plans.”

  She braced his shoulders in her hands and smoothed her palms against his skin in an act that brought them both a moment’s comfort. “I understand,” she nodded. “And I don’t expect you to let your guard down, but if he really does know the way to the castle...”

  There was no need for her to finish her sentence. Both knew how much easier it would be to solve the mysteries of the Wald with a guide. Him watched the old elf over Meredith’s shoulder, watched the way he turned the maps and muttered to himself seemingly unaware that they even stood nearby.

  He nodded then and returned his gaze to hers with a certain nod, “He knows.”

  That moment of brief confirmation was terrifying, as she realized the inevitability of the path in front of them. It was so unlike her to shy away from a challenge, to rely on anyone other than herself to get something done, and she got things done. But right then she wanted to throw herself into Him’s arms and beg him to take her away. They could flee together, hide away in a brighter world, just the two of them, and forget about the promise she’d made to hand herself over to the goblin king that took her sister.

  A warm blush rushed quickly to her face as she tried to remember a single moment of her life before she knew him. It was impossible, and as she realized that his love—no, their love, had consumed her completely, the cloak of darkness around them felt lighter and for a moment she could breath freely again.

  She owed it to her sister to carry on, but if there was any way she could escape the promise she’d made to Kothar, any way she could live this life she could almost see unraveling in front of her, she was going to do it. For once, she would do something for herself; Christina would be on her own.

  “Come, Majesty, before you fall behind,” Gorigast called to them over his shoulder, and he was already starting forward again on their circling route around the knot. “I know the number now, but if we linger longer I might lose my way.”

  “Of course,” Meredith thought that Gorigast looked like a disappointed old school teacher when he crossed his bony arms and tried to look stern, and as the first smile she’d worn all day began to draw the corner of her mouth upright, she reached for Him’s hand. “We’re right behind you.”

  Him’s fingers were warm and seemed to gratefully stretch before wrapping her hand inside his. They huddled close together as they walked, and while before the heaviness of mood had kept conversation to a minimum, she began to feel that if they were going to make it through the Darkjnan Wald alive, they would have to keep as much of their good humor as possible.

  “You spoke very little of your mother to me,” Him started. “When you did, there was this look about you and this light inside of your eyes. I want to know more about her.”

  “What look?”

  “This amazing look of reverence as though no being, alive nor dead, could ever touch her place in your heart.”

  For a moment she looked away from him. “That is true enough, I suppose. She was incredibly beautiful, and she knew absolutely everything.”

  "Of course she must have been beautiful to have been your mother.” Him watched her reaction with a secret joy.

  “I really don’t look like her at all,” she admitted, “then, I suppose that would be so, since she really wasn’t my mother.” That thought was still so new to her, and she couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anyone else as her mother—even if she did get all her memories of her life before she’d gone Upland back. After a thoughtful silence, she finally went on “Christina, on the other hand...” she marveled at the likeness her sister shared with the woman who’d given birth to her, and how it only seemed to grow with each day. “Christina looks exactly like her, and her spirit is as free as the wind as well.”

  “It is always the free of spirit who find themselves in predicaments like hers,” he said.

  The defensive bone in her grew immediately reproachful of his observation, but before she could tell him what she thought, he tilted his gaze into hers and she couldn’t begin to deny what she had always known to be true. No matter that the market had been a trap for Meredith, Christina had walked into it all by herself, and most certainly not because she was innocently drawn. Christina was a great adventurer, always walking the boundary between the fantastic and mundane, and it was only a matter of time before she walked straight into the wrong adventure.

  “Well, I suppose she is far braver than I.”

  “Does that make you angry?”

  She hadn’t noticed the edge on her voice until he’d pointed it out. “I’m not angry,” but she was angry, she realized.

  Since the day she was born it seemed that Christina had done as she pleased, often doing the things Meredith herself dreamed of doi
ng, but had always been unable because of her responsibilities.

  “All right,” she softened under his scrutiny. “Perhaps I am a little bit angry, but not at her.”

  “At you?”

  “Maybe,” she mulled over it a moment. “Maybe my father, I don’t know. Sometimes my mother too. And now all this… Maybe I am made at her. Maybe I have a right to be.”

  Him only nodded, and for a long stretch their conversation seemed to have ended, and then he said, “I think it’s fairly certain now that you’re the one on an adventure. All those years you spent away from your life here was one great adventure in its own right.

  An uneasy laugh caught in the back of her throat. “I suppose.”

  “Just look at all you’ve done for your sister. You stood up to Kothar, faced down his minions and now you travel the Wald so that you can face Kothar again and take back what he stole from you.”

  “You make it sound so simple and heroic.”

  “Meredith.” He grasped at her forearm so she had no choice but to stop and look up at him. “You are a heroine. Believe me when I tell you that in my brother’s village, even now the bards tune their harps to sing your story. ”

  She had no answer save for a sharp gasp of disbelief that he quickly refuted with an earnest nod. They began walking again, barely paying attention to Gorigast in front of them.

  “Well, I would like to think that I’ve done nothing that Christina would not do for me, were our roles reversed.”

  But as soon as she said those words, Him’s disbelieving glance shot sideways to avoid her, and though she might never admit it aloud, she knew he was right. It wasn’t that Christina was spiteful or wicked. She simply wasn’t a caregiver. She had never needed to nurture or protect, having always known the security of Meredith’s watchful love. Many times her sister’s blatant disregard had driven Meredith crazy, but it changed nothing in the end. Meredith loved Christina more than life itself, and that was why making this sacrifice had felt so simple in the beginning.