The Goblin King (27 page)

“How did he manage that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Dai shook his head, a frown scaring his forehead. “She would’ve had to be thinking of him in much the same way we used people’s fear of goblins to cross over at first. I didn’t think the druid had that skill.”

“Maybe he didn’t, until he had someone who would fear him.” It was his fault Eliza was in danger, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret bringing her to the Shadowlands.

“He could kill her in her sleep, and she’d—”

“Wake up dead.” Roan thumped the book into his hand, then paused and looked at the cover. Dai hadn’t been reading metaphysics, or an ancient text or anything that might be of use. “You’re reading Harry Potter? Now?”

“It’s the last one. I’m running out of time.” Dai took back the book. “Don’t you want to know how it ends? You can’t wait around for the movies. I can give you the rundown on the last two books.”

Roan straightened. He wouldn’t make it to see the next lot of summer blockbusters. And he did want to know how the saga ended. “How many pages to go?”

“Two hundred.” Dai slid a gold bookmark in to mark his place. “Why did Elryion attack Eliza?”

“Because he wanted to. Because he can. Because he knew it would piss me off and I would use magic to fix the damage.” Roan’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. The blade was sharp despite years of hacking and slicing through the bodies of his summoner’s enemies. Battle lust writhed in his veins. It had been too long since he’d colored his sword hot-crimson.

He wanted to paint his sword with sacred druid blood. If he’d had the nerve to do it when first accused of selling out to Rome, they wouldn’t be here now. And he would never have met Eliza. Was a few days with her worth the centuries trapped here?

The answer leaped forward, yet he refused to acknowledge the truth. He would wait another two millennia to see her again. She flowed in his blood, brighter than gold and hotter than battle. And she waited in his bed.

His brother watched. His face blank, only the tension in his hands showed how much he wanted to challenge Roan and indulge his own desire to fight. Once they had kept their skills sharp against each other. Now that was too risky. A mock fight could turn vicious; they could fade and fight to the death like goblins without even realizing it. Every day they trod a wider circle, not wanting to trigger a reaction that would end their humanity. Roan eased his hand away. He wouldn’t fight his brother.

But he was craving battle almost as much as he needed gold. He picked up a rock and let it fall onto one of the goblins below. Skewering one on a sword would’ve been far more satisfying. But killing one would achieve nothing when there were another ten to take his place. Elryion had brought the Hoard here
and
he had attacked Eliza.

Roan frowned. “Because he seeks to push me over the edge and end this dance.” Wanting Eliza warred with his goblin desires. He glanced up at Elryion who watched the battle from the safety of the sky. “He didn’t have to hurt Eliza to do that. I am within stepping distance.”

“What if we’re close to breaking the curse?” Dai took a drink from his open bottle of wine. The label was obscured by age.

Roan’s breath hissed past his teeth as he resisted the urge to drop the bottle over the edge and his brother with it. Had all of Dai’s study of useless magics rotted his brain? False hope would gain them nothing.

“How are we any closer to breaking the curse than we were yesterday or the first day?”

“The druid is throwing everything he can at us. Why?”

“Because we’re almost there and he can get his life back.” The thought of the druid being granted a second chance at life in the Fixed Realm was like acid in his gut. He hoped the bastard got stuck in the Shadowlands.

Dai shook his head. “No. He’s running scared because the answer is in front of us.” Dai pulled out a black diamond ring. The one Roan had made for himself, should he need it. “Wear it.”

“No. Without the magic we are vulnerable.” Over the centuries, Roan had tried to protect his men. The four swords hanging on the wall were a testament to his failure. Was Meryn one of the goblins attacking?

“You have no more magic to use. Buy us the time.” Dai tossed him the ring.

Roan caught it one-handed. In his palm it was nothing but a trinket. On his finger the darkness receded, like a cancer shrinking from radiation. The magic barely a whisper in his ear. The silence was deafening, but beneath it was a clarity he’d felt before in the Summerland. The bright magic remained out of reach.

Look, but don’t touch.

Feel, but never hold.

He slipped the ring off and handed it back to Dai. The darkness returned. No bigger, no darker, just the ever-present pull that waited to consume what was left of his humanity. He had a little soul left, but not enough to buy the magic needed to destroy the druid.

“I can’t defeat Elryion without magic. I can’t defeat him with it. But I have to face him.” He would win or fade—the druid wouldn’t let him die. Either way Eliza would be safe and the curse would be over, broken or completed.

“What if Elryion had no magic?” Dai spilled the rest of the black diamonds on the rock ledge.

Roan stared at the burning diamonds. He knew what his brother was proposing, had entertained a similar fantasy, but had dismissed it as the workings of a desperate mind. Elryion would never willingly sever his connection to the Shadowlands and face Roan as a man.

“What’s your plan?” Roan asked.

Dai smiled, but it never reached the golden gleam of his eyes. Seeing his younger brother like that stung like salt rubbed into raw flesh. Whatever Dai had concocted was more goblin than human. But maybe goblins could win where men had failed.

“We use your queen as bait.”

Roan’s face hardened. His brother was mad. The plan had more holes than he had gold coins. Even as he refused to consider the possibility, he knew it was the only one that would force the druid to fight on his terms. A fight he could win. But would Eliza agree and if she didn’t, would it matter? He cut off the thought.

“No.”

“Think. How much longer can we hold out here? A day, maybe two? Elryion wants her to destroy you. Who else could get close enough?”

Roan’s breathing came hard as he drowned in his brother’s words. Anger, betrayal, hope, and fear swarmed, buzzing in his ears. He couldn’t answer because he might agree to risk his queen to win the game.

Roan pulled up the shadows and went inside. He started back toward Eliza, then changed his mind. He couldn’t face her when the idea of using her to beat the druid was so tempting. Instead he slunk below to the prison and the goblin that kept a silent vigil.

Gob glared. His yellow eyes didn’t blink. His knobbled legs were crossed as if he were meditating. He never moved unless gold or raw meat was brought. Then he would rage and tear at the bars, willing to destroy himself to obtain what he wanted. Today Roan had brought nothing for the goblin.

Roan lowered himself to the floor and crossed his legs. He rested his chin on his hands and let the Shadowlands bleed the color from his skin until goblin faced goblin.

Gob blinked.

Roan let his lips curl—a sneer or a smile, it didn’t matter. From what he had learned, social hierarchy was determined by who could use a sword the best. Kill the king and take his crown, rule until someone better stole it on the end of a sword. Since Roan was on the outside, he was automatically higher up the food chain.

“Soon I will be all goblin. I want to know what goes on behind those big blank eyes.” There had to be something. Something more than mindless greed. Something worth saving.

Gob spoke and revealed worn, yellow teeth. “Him wants gold and meat.”

“Tell me something else and I’ll set you free.” It was a promise Roan had made a hundred times before without any gains. Gob just sat there, asking for meat and gold. He seemed unaware that his brethren were digging their way in. If the Hoard found Gob they wouldn’t save him. They would kill him.

Gob cocked his head. “You free him. Him become king.”

Roan sighed. “Don’t you want your freedom?”

“Him wants freedom. Kill you and take your gold.”

A weight settled on his shoulders. It was heavy like the torque around Roan’s neck. There was nothing to a goblin. No remnants of a soul, or remembrance of who he had been. All that had died when Gob had become goblin. The greedy soul had swapped humanity for more. More life, more gold, more power.

Roan changed tack. “What about finding a queen?”

“You have queen?” Gob sat up straight. “Him kill you, take your queen. Queen be tasty and pink.”

Roan’s fingernails dug into his hand. Killing Gob now would serve no purpose except salving his own need for death. “Love. What about love and happiness and honor?”

Gob blinked. “Him loves gold. Gold make him happy.”

If he failed and faded, he wouldn’t care because there would be nothing to remember with. Everything that made him who he was would be gone. Eliza would be nothing but a tasty pink queen suitable for eating, or fucking, depending on his mood. His dreams were heavier than his golden heart. Unless the curse was broken he could never be her man.

The body of the goblin fell away until only a lost man faced Gob. What kind of man would risk his woman’s life?

One who was desperate enough to do anything to be with her. If he wanted Eliza, he was going to have to fight. He would have to fore the druid to face him as a man.

When he reached his chamber Eliza was sleeping in his bed. So peaceful despite the battle the Hoard was waging to get in. Her eyelids flickered as he lay down next to her. The black clothing masked where one body started and the other ended. Roan placed his lips on hers. She responded, still half asleep. Her fingers wove through his dreads. He tried to lose himself, to want nothing more than this moment to last an eternity. His lungs could incinerate with their need for air. Air he could forgo. The cold burn of gold carved a path through every thought and would never leave.

They both panted. She gazed up at him, the gold flecks in her eyes bright with joy. She stole a tiny kiss. The merest taste of his lips, teasing him more than satisfying. He responded in kind. Their lips meeting for partial seconds. A game that couldn’t last and one he couldn’t finish. He had to tell Eliza the plan and let her decide his fate.

Her fingers traced over his cheek to the corner of his eye. “You’re not here with me. What is it, Roan?”

He kissed the palm of her hand, not wanting to tell her, yet not wanting to keep such a deadly secret to himself. It wedged between them, forcing them apart. He murmured against her skin. “There is a way to kill the druid.”

She gasped and a smile broke her face letting all the light in her being shine through. “That’s fantastic.”

Roan shook his head, still cupped by her hand. The beads rang hollow like old empty bones.

“Killing Elryion may not break the curse. Nothing else has. I could still fade. Or,” he paused, for one possible good outcome there were three against it, “if it works, I could be trapped here.”

They could all be trapped here. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He would have to let his brother take Eliza to the Fixed Realm while he faced the druid alone.

Her body stiffened against his. “With the Hoard? Could you not use magic to escape?”

“When I was a man I had no magic. I was a warrior. Not a druid or a sorcerer.” His only chance of escaping would be during the northern hemisphere winter solstice. That would mean surviving six months in the Shadowlands without magic to help feed him or fight off the goblins that would eat him while he screamed her name.

“Surely if the curse is broken, you will be returned to the Fixed Realm where you belong.” Her fingers flexed against his skin as if she could reshape the answer into something definite.

Did he belong in her world two thousand years away from his? “I don’t know if I would exist in the Fixed Realm. I may break the curse only to die. You need to know that so much could go wrong. You need to know the risks. That even if it works, we may never meet again.”

Eliza shook her head. “Do you have to do this?” Her voice was small and fragile, but the dream broke anyway.

“I’ve always had to do this. Now there is a way to succeed.” He took a breath. “The diamond that protects you will also stop Elryion from using magic.”

“How will you get him to wear one?”

The words shriveled on his tongue. He couldn’t ask her. He had no right to ask Eliza for help. Roan looked away, unable to hold her gaze. But it was too late. She’d seen the truth in his eyes.

“You want me to put the diamond on him.” The words were slow and well formed so there could be no mistake.

He waited for the refusal, for her to tell him he was insane and to go to hell. For her hands to push him away. He couldn’t force her to assist in his battle. If he did, he was already gone. He swallowed and waited for Eliza to determine both their deaths.

She lay completely still. Her breath hardly raised her chest. “How would I do it?”

Roan lifted his gaze. Like the queens of his time, she was willing to fight by his side. The warrior in Eliza had risen and wouldn’t be tamed. If his golden heart could have swelled with pride, it would have burst.