For the Love of a Goblin Warrior (Shadowlands) (17 page)

To the side of the bedroom was another room filled with white tiles and shiny steel. Hanging from rails were sheets of thick white fabric and a huge bath took up a corner. His lips curved. A bath, a proper bath, a real soak, not just a quick scrub in the restroom.

This was exactly what he wanted. He got the water running but didn’t bother waiting for the bath to fill. The idea that he could fill a bath so easily and then have it to himself was decadent.

He stripped off his trousers and stepped in. The water swirled around him and he leaned his head against the edge and closed his eyes. For a long time he didn’t move, couldn’t move as his muscles relaxed for what felt like the first time in more years than he could count. He was safe here. No one would find him camping in the park. No thieves would come and destroy his things. A sigh escaped.

He hadn’t been truly safe since he was a child, before the Romans came. After the invasion it had been battles, then battle planning as he’d risen to role of Roan’s second—a job his brother Drem had envied. Drem had always been wheedling for more information and a chance to show Meryn up. Maybe brothers didn’t get along until they were forced to. He’d never seen eye to eye with Drem about anything. Drem had just wanted the prestige that went with the role without the hard work—the long nights, dinners with a general he’d rather kill, and all the while plotting, planning, and praying.

It wasn’t a job he’d wish on anyone. There’d been times when he and Roan would sit in Roan’s house and neither of them would speak, neither of them willing to voice how dire the situation, yet neither having a clear solution. The plan for the rebellion had first been voiced by Dai. A whisper of an idea that they had spent months working on. It had unraveled faster than he’d ever thought possible. If not for the curse, he’d have died that night with the rest of the Decangli.

Meryn reached out and turned off the tap before the bath could overflow. Then he took a breath and submerged himself under the hot water. He ran his hands over his hair and face and resurfaced with a gasp.

With his body warm and relaxed, curiosity rose up like a hunger that needed to be sated. People didn’t appear to live that differently from how they had when he was born. He’d recognized furniture, and yet, his fingers ran along the smooth white surface of the giant bath, everything was different. The bath was carved out of a solid piece of something. He gave it a rap with his knuckles, but it didn’t sound like stone.

With a grunt, Meryn hauled himself out of the bath. At the bottom lay a film of fine gray silt, the last few grains of the Shadowlands washing free. He pulled the plug and let the water go, watching the last of the dust that nightmares were made of disappear. He dried off and examined the towels before hanging them back up. They were so soft…and white. People really had a thing for white, a color usually reserved for druids. He paused with his fingers gripping the towel. What had happened to the druid who’d cursed them?

Next time he saw Dai he would ask.

He walked slowly back through the house, pausing to touch things and examine them more closely. On the pale, polished wood of the dining table was a sheet of paper covered in black inky scribbles and a piece of gold jewelry. A bracelet shaped like a torque. He touched his neck. He knew the real reason he didn’t want to see Roan. He didn’t want to become Roan’s second again. He was done with fighting and giving orders.

He’d given up the night he’d turned goblin. He was done and he just wanted to live. Looking his king in the eye and saying that was going to be impossible.

His fingers traced the shape of the bracelet. Dai had obviously left it for him, but for what end? Only the king had worn gold…had he hoped that gold would appeal because of the time he’d spent as a goblin? If anything it repelled the man. But an overwhelming urge to try it on flowed up his hand. He couldn’t resist the compulsion, as if he were once again goblin and driven by the lust for gold.

The bracelet fit snugly on his wrist.

The ink scribbled on the paper became words he could read.

He yanked off the bracelet and let it fall to the floor with a hollow chime. “What magic is this?”

His Decangli words echoed around the house. The bracelet didn’t respond. The answer was on the paper. Meryn picked up the bracelet between two fingers, as if it were a critter that would bite. Again the compulsion to put it on ran up his arm, but this time he could fight it. The bracelet obviously held a powerful enchantment.

He looked at the sheet of paper, but words didn’t form. He leafed through the papers hoping one would make sense. None did. Many were blank. With a snap, he put the bracelet back on, sure he was going to regret the decision. Druid magic had only ever brought him grief. The black lines became letters and words he understood. They formed in his mind with magic.

Meryn,

So that was what his name looked like in script.

My heart is gladdened you are here. I imbued the gold with magic to help you read, a skill you will need. I can’t help you with writing. That is something you will have to practice.

That is what the blank paper and the pen was for. Meryn shook his head. Learning to write was not essential to survival.

There is food in the kitchen and clothing in the wardrobe. The details of your life in this time I have written for you over the page. I have used as much truth as possible. I won’t press you further. I understand how hard this is for you. When you are ready, there is a phone in the kitchen. Press 1 and the green button. I’ve programmed in my number.

By the way, this is written in Latin so no one else can read it.

Don’t wait too long. There is much news to share.

Your cousin,

Dai

The words clawed at his mind as he struggled to take them in. He pulled off the bracelet. It spun on the table before falling over. Meryn rubbed his temples. The words on the page no longer made sense. But he knew the first one was his name and the last one that of his cousin. The lines made letters. And made sense. He could see them repeated in other combinations. Despite the throbbing in Meryn’s head, he picked up the bracelet again. Would he be able to read everything in the house?

He found food and made himself something to eat. Then he gathered up his damp and dirty clothing and put them in the small room behind the kitchen where a white box proclaimed it was a washer. He’d wash his clothes later; he’d seen clean clothing in the bedroom. After touching the fabrics and investigating all the drawers he pulled on a clean shirt and trousers, too loose but he belted them, and after a few good meals they’d fit fine. But there were no shoes. Not a single pair. He’d found undergarments and socks, but no shoes. He was going to have to put his old boots on.

An idea began forming. He opened up the wallet and looked at the money, this time reading the denomination on the notes and memorizing them. Out of curiosity he read the identification card also tucked inside.
Meryn
Knight
. The meaning of his surname became clear, and he smiled at his own misunderstanding. Dai hadn’t been referring to Meryn’s years as a goblin when choosing his name.

Then Meryn took the bracelet off, not wanting to risk losing something so valuable. He hadn’t ventured back into the city after that first night. He closed his eyes, remembering that he’d passed many windows filled with many things. Would shoes be one of them? He opened his eyes. He had nothing better to do today. He shrugged and put on a jacket, much like the ones he’d seen other men wearing, and hoped that it wouldn’t start raining again.

Meryn went down the hill and into the city. This time he wasn’t half crazed and confused by the world as much as his memories. The speed of the cars didn’t worry him, and the maze of streets made sense, a neat grid cast into shadow by the tall buildings. He tilted his head and gazed up—taller than trees, their windows like rows of blank soulless eyes, yet he knew people would be up there. Doing what he didn’t know. If they lived up there, where did they work? Where were the farms? And if people worked there, what job involved staying inside? They couldn’t all be scribes, mapmakers, or weavers.

As he moved deeper into the city, the buildings changed. They were still tall, but at street level there were shops and places to eat. Merchants still existed, selling their wares. The tension in his muscles eased at the recognition of the familiar. Not everything had changed and some of the items for sale as he passed the windows he recognized: glass ornaments and beads, cooking implements, clothes, and jewelry.

He paused to stare at the gold, but its lure no longer shone for him. It seemed gaudy, the yellow too bright, the gems too colorful as if the shopkeeper could tempt the unwary into spending too much coin in his store. A small row of crosses hung at one end of the window. None of them were like Nadine’s. Her cross was a souvenir he’d didn’t want. But until he found a way to return it, he was stuck with the cross. It was like an evil reminder of what he’d been for two thousand years.

He walked on, taking in as much of the city as he could, listening, looking, learning, and wishing he had risked wearing the bracelet, so he could read all the signs that hung above every shop. A brightly lit shop made him stop. Inside were shoes. Hundreds of them on display. Men’s, women’s, and tiny shoes that could only belong to children—not winter boots for keeping their feet warm and dry, but dainty little slippers and sandals. His daughter Branna would’ve loved them.

His gaze tracked back to the side of the store that seemed to be devoted to men’s shoes, duller and bigger than the female side which seemed to be made of pointed and spiked shoes. He’d only ever seen Nadine in the white shoes everyone seemed to wear while running.

He glanced at his own feet, then back at the shoes in the shop. He hadn’t had a new pair of boots in two thousand years, so he went inside. Meryn’s gaze flickered over the shelves—shiny black shoes and ankle boots with pointed toes. He wanted something else…His gaze landed on a pair of canvas lace up shoes that looked a little like runners but were covered in checks.

“Can I help you?” A woman in a red shirt walked over to him.

“I’d like these.” He picked up the shoe and hoped the other one wasn’t far away.

“Converse. Very popular at the moment. What size are you?”

Meryn raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know.”

The woman studied his feet for a moment. “I’ll get a ten and we’ll go from there.” Then she disappeared through a door.

Did he have enough money to be buying shoes? Doubt wriggled like maggots in his stomach. He had no idea what a fair price was. When he looked closely at the shoes, he saw labels with squiggles on them that he couldn’t decipher. Next time, he’d wear the bracelet.

“If you take a seat, you can try them on,” the woman said behind him.

There was no harm in trying them on and then finding out if he could afford them.

Meryn sat and pulled off his boot while the lady opened a box and drew out the shoes. The woman laced the shoes with the speed of someone who did it many times a day, her eyes on his boot while her hands worked. For the first time in his life, an insidious, creeping embarrassment crept through him. He had always taken care of himself and his family…and his king and tribe.

The lady handed one shoe over. For a moment Meryn just held it. The shoe was so different from what he was used to. Lighter for a start. The lady waited, her eyebrows arched.

“Thank you.” He put the shoe on and laced it up.

“Stand up and I’ll check the fit.”

This time he did as he was asked without pausing.

She pressed the end of the shoe. “They’re good. Any smaller and they’d rub. What do you think?”

Meryn studied his feet; one in an old boot, one in a new black-and-white check shoe—one foot in the past, one in the future. He couldn’t straddle both worlds. If he was going to succeed in the Fixed Realm again, he had to put both feet on that path and move forward without looking back. But what was in front of him?

What did he have here that was worth living for?

What did he have that was worth dying for?

The only answer he had was in the shape of Nadine. Her ready smile, guarded eyes, and long legs…he cut off the thought before he imagined just how nice her legs would look wrapped around him. To have her, he had to fit in and be a man of this age.

He asked how much they were, then added up the notes in his wallet. He had more than enough money. “I’ll have them.”

He walked back up the hill, happier than he’d been in days. He had a house and was dressed in clothes of the day. He could speak English and read with the help of magic. In a few short days he’d come so far. He was beginning to feel like he did belong. Before he went back to his house, he needed to collect the rest of his things from the campsite. He stepped off the path and walked toward his campsite, an old Decangli song on his lips.

As he drew closer, the song died. The scrub around his campsite had been disturbed. He circled around, drawing the knife, ready to fight off anything wanting to attack him. Nothing charged him and there was only silence, not even the birds were singing. He braced himself for the worst, expecting goblins lying in wait or more giant spiders.