"You come from a long line of liars," he said. "How do I know I can trust your word?"
"You don't."
"Not a very convincing argument, Meredith."
"Then trust in Glylwythiel," she said. "I was your friend, Kothar. We played together as children, laughed together in the fields and made rings of flowers that we wore around our heads like crowns. I never wanted any of this."
“Then why did you run?”
Lowering her head, her eyes betrayed her emotion, and though she could barely see him, she could feel the flare of his rising temper.
“Why did you run from me?” he bellowed, his sharp voice echoing through that dank dungeon.
“To make my uncle happy,” she whispered. “To keep the peace he fought so long to gain…”
Kothar laughed, “And you see how well that peace served him. Everything he once loved is on the verge of being swallowed by the darkness, my darkness.”
“Why would you punish your own people?” she gasped, a hand lifting to clutch at the bare of her exposed shoulder. “Why would you take away their light?”
“Everything I did, I did because of you,” he took a step into the hideous light, and the way the shadows fell across his face made him look terrifying. “You ran from me, and they hid you from me. They all had to pay, Glywythiel. Don’t you see?”
“And now you will make my sister pay as well?” she whispered. “Because there is naught in your heart but hatred and cruelty.”
“There is naught in my heart but love for you!” he hissed. “If that love has grown dark, it is through no fault of mine.”
“Your heart was always filled with darkness,” she countered, taking a brave step toward him to show him she was not afraid. “It does not know the meaning of the word love.”
“That is untrue. I love you so much that if you promise to marry me and rule here as my queen, I will send the girl back to the Upland.”
The memory of Him ebbed in the back of her mind, the brokenhearted knowing she would never feel his arms around her as long as she lived, the distant ache of a life without ever hearing the sound of his voice.
She had nothing else to live for, and she knew she could never return to the life she'd known in the Upland herself.
She was broken.
"I will marry you," she licked the salt of tears from her lips. "And be your queen."
He sighed, the tension smoothing from his face as he arrived to stand before her. “At last, we see eye to eye.”
“And as your bride to be, I ask for a boon.”
“Name your boon, my Queen.”
“Allow me to return my sister to the mortal world alive, and see her married, and I will do anything you ask of me.”
Kothar contemplated her request for a moment. He was quiet so long that Meredith began to fret that he would not concede to her wish, but then he smiled thinly. “As you wish, however this boon does not come without its price.”
“What else would you have me do? I've already said I would marry you.”
"I want your heart and your love, not just your hand."
It was something she could never promise, not after all she'd been through with Him, but it was her sister's only chance. Her tongue thick in her mouth, the heart in her chest a piteous, broken thing, she would let him have it. What good would it do her to keep it for herself?
"As you wish, my king."
A triumphant grin spread to the corners of his face. The wicked gleam in his eye sickened her, but she swallowed her pride and her fear. He could have her heart, but she would never truly love him. And by the time he realized that, it would be too late.
"You have the cycle of one moon to put your mortal affairs in order,” he said. “On the next full moon, I will come for you and bring you home.”
She looked into his face and nodded firmly, “I will be waiting.”
He gently grasped her small frame, holding her gaze in the fleeting darkness. There was happiness in his good eye, and it made her feel sick.
Kothar leaned down and brushed soft lips against her forehead. "Don't try to run from me again, Glylwythiel. Punishment for such a crime would be darker than you could ever imagine, even in your most wretched of nightmares."
“Of course not,” she felt her mouth move into a stiff smile. “I will do as you wish.”
“There's my good girl.” His hand rested along the curve of her cheek. “Now close your eyes…” His voice became slow, dreamy. “…and listen…for…the rain.”
Obediently, she closed her eyes. She could still feel the grip of his fingers tight on her shoulders, and behind her Meredith heard the slow, pulsing drips and drops that had led her to the dungeon.
Drip-drop, drip-drop-drop, until one by one they became patterned steadily over some strange surface that seemingly hovered above her. She felt light as a dream and floated through the world as though she was nothing more than her spirit.
“One moon, Merry. One moon...” his hypnotic voice echoed deeply within her until it because sharp as a whisper, and for a moment she felt the warmth of his lips across her brow.
Then she came awake to the sound of distant, rumbling thunder.
*****
At first Merry wasn’t sure it was thunder she heard because she felt cotton-headed and lethargic as she tried to lift herself from the floor. The rippling liquid folds of sleep wrapped tight around her and made it almost impossible for her to think.
She drowsily blinked free from the grasp sleep had upon her, and sat at a strange angle—half propped on her elbows on the hard wood of the bedroom floor, and half listening now.
And then it all came rushing back to her memory. Kothar let her return to see her sister into another's care.
“Christina?” She looked to the empty bed, its tousled sheets amiss and one pillow half-dangling over the edge “Christina?”
The stifled din of voices from the other room grew silent, and then footsteps sounded just outside the door. The door creaked on its frame, stiff and stuck from the humidity of the last storm.
Christina appeared, momentarily shadowed by the hallway behind her, but her pale countenance and chestnut hair shone through the darkness like a bright beacon of hope.
“Merry, what are you doing out of bed? You’ll catch your death in your present state. Come lie down. Let me take care of you.”
The younger girl rushed into the room and guided her bedazzled sister toward the ruffled bed. “There, there.” She helped Meredith into the bed and fluffed the pillows behind her before drawing the blankets up under her chin. “You’ll catch your death at this rate,” Christina told her matter-of-factly.
Meredith reached upward and touched the wan skin of her sister’s face. The circles beneath her eyes were as dark as faded bruises, but there was a gleam in them that foretold healing and wellness was not far off.
“You’re feeling better, then?”
“I feel like a new day has dawned,” Christina said, lightly sitting on the edge of the bed. “You took such good care of me, Merry. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here at all, and now I’m going to take good care of you.”
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, though in truth her body had never felt more exhausted than it did just then.
“Fine after you rest, I’m sure. Now close your eyes and I’ll sing you a lullaby.”
Meredith couldn’t help the small grin that perched over her lower lip at the precious sound of her sister’s lilted voice. She became lost in it, her feverish mind playing in a realm between the past and the present, in a place where her sister sat beside her mother’s memory and sang sweetly about a world no one would ever believe to be true. She closed her eyes, knowing she was safe for the moment, that she was free for the moment, and that freedom lulled her to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Meredith lingered over the edge of the garden, her eyes cast down over the hill, into the place where the goblins held their market not so long ago. It was an open valley
now, green with new growth and no trace of goblin or market.
All she had to do was close her eyes and she could still see it there as clearly as she had seen it the night she’d set out to save her sister.
Beyond the empty market place nothing seemed familiar anymore, for she’d been to the Underground. She’d experienced firsthand the mysterious, natural beauty of the fairy realm, though all of that seemed now as though it were nothing more than a distant memory, a fevered dream during the sickness that had nearly claimed both her and her sister’s life.
Meredith knew that it was not a dream. Once the illness passed, and Meredith was able to return to her daily activities, she became aware of a subtle difference about herself that confirmed the strange and painful dreams that haunted her every night's sleep.
She was with child—a small gift, a reminder of the sharing of her heart on that one night that now seemed to have taken place in another lifetime.
Inside her grew the seed of redemption, and though she could imagine what Kothar would do when he discovered this fact, Meredith felt certain that somehow, some day, the child she carried would make everything right again.
In two nights time the moon would be full again, and then he would come and take her away. She had promised him that much, and for her sister’s life she felt it was a fair price, but now she had more to worry about than her sister. Meredith reached into the front pocket of her apron and ran her hand along the sharp edge of the mask she kept with her at all times.
The magic's ebb had waned in the Upland, but she could still feel it pulsing through her fingertips, reaching desperately to connect with her body. She drew it out of the pocket just enough that she could look upon it, the gold and silver beauty glinting in the sun and nearly blinding her.
“What have you got there, Merry?” Christina approached her from behind, so light on her feet that Meredith hadn’t heard her.
“Oh,” Meredith quickly dropped the mask back into her apron. She turned to smile thoughtfully at her sister. “It’s nothing,” she stepped in and looped her arm through her sister’s. “Nothing for busy brides to worry their pretty little heads over. Shouldn’t you be modeling Mother’s gown so Mrs. Grisham can take it in?” She narrowed a stern gaze over her sister, and then teased, “You’re like a little bird in that body of yours. It’ll be a miracle if she can ever make it fit you properly.
Christina playfully smacked at her sister. “This body is a blessing, I’ll have you know. It’s not fit for farm work, and so I’ll never get as big as that old hen.”
“That old hen? Honestly Chrissy, that’s no way to speak of your future mother-in-law. Especially after all she’s done for you!”
An exasperated groan heaved from the younger woman’s chest and she let her weight fall into Merry’s. “Must you remind me? She’ll be the death of me, I can already tell… The way she’s always fussing with everything and busying herself. It’s dreadful. I hope I’m never like that when I’m a wife and mother.”
“She’s not so bad, really,” Merry lowered her arm behind Christina’s back and drew her close. She genuinely cares for you and Will too. You’re a very lucky girl, Christina, and it’s time you settle down and make a life for yourself.”
The sigh that deflated Christina then was full of thoughtful immaturity. “I always thought we’d grow old together, just the two of us, old maids up on the hill.”
Meredith chuckled before she tightened her mouth into a stern smile. “I have no intention of becoming an old maid up on this hill, and neither should you!”
“No?” It was quite sudden and unexpected then that Christina stopped Meredith in her tracks and spun her hard so they were face to face. “Are you planning to run away then? Leave me here all alone?
Was she that easy to read, Merry wondered? Meredith had never considered her sister to be tuned in when it came to other’s or their feelings. Was it possible that she had been wrong, that Christina was on to her, and that she knew Meredith was leaving? Meredith steadied herself and brought her hand up to rest over Christina’s arm.
“Don’t be silly, Chrissy. I will always be with you in some way or another.”
“You must promise it,” she insisted. “You are the only thing I have really got in this world.”
“That’s not true,” Meredith hushed her. “You will have a husband who loves you in just two days time, a mother-in-law to look after you. Soon you and Will will have half a dozen babies of your own to worry about. I can’t stay on and take care of you forever, Chrissy. It’s time you grow up, I think.”
“Christina!” Maggie Grisham’s shrill call echoed from within the house.
Christina shuddered, and closed her eyes. “She will be the death of me, you know.”
“You have been through far, far worse,” Merry said. “Trust me.”
Maggie’s wail filled the garden. “Christina, come inside at once, and try this gown on again!”
“My goodness! I’m coming already!” Christina cried. She hurried forward on the cobblestone path, but glanced back over her shoulder just long enough to whisper, “The death of me!” There was a subtle shimmer in her eyes that told the truth about her feelings: all along a doting mother figure was exactly what Christina wanted in her life. While Meredith had done her best to love and care for her sister, she would never be a mother to her. Maggie would slip easily into that role, Christina would be well cared for, and Meredith could leave her sister without fear or worry for her future.
She watched her sister disappear into the house and then she turned back to the horizon. Two nights before he returned for her. Two nights until she said goodbye to everything, every memory of her life, but her sister would be safe and that was all that mattered.
It was better to let it all go, and perhaps in due time she would find some joy in being a queen. Was it not the dream of every young woman… to not only be a princess, but to become queen of her own realm? She vaguely recalled a conversation she had with Kothar about bringing peace and balance to his kingdom.
Queen... she wanted to laugh at the very notion.
The sky beyond their little hill yielded blushingly to oncoming nightfall, and Meredith turned away. There was just one more night after that one, and she would leave behind all she’d known in her mortal lifetime.
One more night, and she would be a queen.
*****
Shadow by shadow, she retreated from the garden, from the bubbling joy and laughter that dreamily wafted into the night and toward the stars. While she knew she should have felt warm at just being a part of her sister's simple, but beautiful wedding, the truth was she had never felt so cold or alone in all her life.
The only part of her that felt even a tingling of warmth was still too small to be noticed, but growing every day inside her. She prayed for a moment that one day the warmth of that child would be enough, but as she leaned into the full shadow of a tall oak overlooking the shaded valley where it had all begun, she felt only fear and anger.
For one brief moment she contemplated running headlong down that hill, through the empty Goblin Market and into the safety of Sylvanus’s forest, but she convinced herself that he would never offer her refuge. He had already done more than he should for her, and she would never disrespect his generosity by bringing havoc down upon his realm.
A chill rippled across her skin, leaving its upraised marks for a moment before she tried to warm herself. The sounds of the reception seemed to grow further and further into the distance as, the moon’s daughter preceded her mother’s rising by illuminating the mountaintop in a bright, silver glaze. It seemed so cold, she thought, not near as warm or inviting as when she’d first come to understand the presence of Moon’s daughter in Ambiance Grove.
Once more her mind turned to Sylvanus. She remembered his request for her to keep his brother well on their journey, and the misery of her failure inspired the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She pulled her lips between her teeth and bit down hard from wi
thin, refusing to allow herself to cry. She had let everyone down. She was on her own, and she knew that.
As the round-bellied moon heaved herself over the last jagged ridge of the mountain, silver light flooded into the valley below and lit up the night.
He was coming for her; this was the end.
EPILOGUE: THE GOBLIN QUEEN
Some days when the sky is overcast, when thick, silver clouds colored in darkness hang heavily over the Goblin Kingdom, not even the darkest cloud is able to wash out the starlight that shimmers endlessly in the Nether Lake that borders on the Darknjan Wald.
On days such as this she can be seen on the shore, cloaked in rich purple, her hood drawn to hide her face. Those hidden eyes overlook the surface, lost to their own purpose.
She waits, watching the lake for some kind of sign, but day after day nothing comes, and just before nightfall she turns away and walks silently back toward the castle she calls home.
Behind her a bedraggled servant follows, and the sound of his voice can be heard endlessly babbling, desperately trying to gain her amusement, but the queen never laughs, and she never smiles.
She simply is, and nothing more.
Despite the bulk of her thick cloak, there is no mistaking the swell of her belly, the evidence of the first newborn life in the Goblin Kingdom for centuries.
At last an heir to the throne, some say, and the buzz of this new life brightens the kingdom in ways that displease His Majesty.
Some have rumored this displeasure lies with the origin of the child itself, and not his reluctance to turn over his kingdom, but there is no evidence. At all times he appears most happy with his queen, for with her presence and beauty alone, his dark
spirit has been lifted, and temporary peace reigns in the Goblin realm.
Lo, it does not take a soothsayer to foresee that there is infinite darkness on the horizon. Whispers of a malediction circulate the far reaches of the underground, faerie and goblin alike. Endtime prophecies spread like murmurs of disease, and not a single being dares to step too close to the mortal realm for fear of being the gateway for such horrors.
The Goblin Market (Into the Green) Page 27