Chapter 38
The arched cavern was a lovely respite before the shitshow, and I really ought to have appreciated it more. Cool, dark but not pitch black, with lovely flowing air and no furious community of goblin warriors who wanted me dead. Ah, the golden days.
“Seize the human!”
I’d barely gotten a glimpse of the interior of the castle that the archway steps led into, only an immense ceiling high, high above currently obscured by a foggy sky peppered with dark storm clouds.
A blue hand three times the size of my own locked around my forearm and tore me away from Kier.
For a moment, I was so stunned and caught off guard that I didn’t fight.
Valour, I hissed, gratified by the flinch that went through my wannabe jailor when Valour poured from my ring with a snarl loud enough to shake the clouds above.
“I’d advise you to reconsider,” I said sweetly, my voice dosed with venom as I peered up at the huge Bluescale goblin manhandling me away from Kier. “My husbands don’t like it when strange men touch me. And between you and me, they’re a tad overprotective.”
“Quiet,” the giant man barked, though there was no hatred in his eyes when he gave me a cool, commanding look.
No, this horned, tusked, improbably strong man had the look and bearing of a soldier following orders.
Well, we’d found our missing warriors, and they certainly weren’t going to help us take down Cleodora.
“Don’t make this any worse for yourself,” he said under his breath.
“Says the man leaving bruises on the Bluescale princess,” I fired back in the same volume.
His eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion that made my own brow furrow. Why was he looking at me like—oh.
“Kier,” I called, twisting to find my husband and utterly charmed when I saw that six burly warriors had to hold him back.
A vein throbbed in his forehead, and he looked ready to rip every last one of these people apart.
He’d gone full murder-goblin, which meant he’d probably forgotten we needed these people alive to help us clear his name.
“They were taken before you married me. They don’t know me at all. ”
I watched an understanding spark in his sapphire eyes; it hovered there for a second before it was engulfed by protective rage.
His upper lip curled back with a vicious snarl as he ripped his right arm from the grip from the warrior restraining him and drove it into his face hard enough to rearrange his jaw.
“Oof,” I winced. “I’d hate to be that guy.”
“I told you to be quiet,” my own guard/soldier muttered, yanking me away a few more steps and only incensing Kier further.
“And I’m telling you he’s going to kill someone.
Now, be quiet, I’m thinking.” I tapped my bottom lip with my free hand, pointedly not looking at where Valour wound her way through the thirty muscle-bound, bulging-thighed men and women while they were distracted by Kier’s show.
I’d like to think he did it on purpose, even if I knew better.
The mist that slunk in around our ankles was intentional though, and gave Valour some extra cover to sneak around their backs, looking for a way out. There were three very impossible-to-fight looking goblins now standing in front of the arch we’d entered through.
Who could have predicted it would lead right into an atrium in the middle of a training exercise?
They took one look at me—the shortest, least muscular person here—and reacted like a wolf had snuck into the chicken coop.
Mmm eggs. I was fucking starving; there’d been no chance to fuel up between the battle outside Lazankh’s walls and jumping into the carriage.
When the hostile silence of highly trained warriors shifted into a low murmur of surprise, I slid my smallest knife from the slit in my trousers.
It was made of solid metal and was damned heavy, but even so I held my breath as I whipped it around and into the blue hand gripping my arm.
When his grip opened on reflex, I exhaled a sharp breath of relief and reached for Baby.
“Alright, everyone listen up,” I shouted as he burst into existence, shook out his fur, and bared his teeth at thirty-something surprised goblins.
Well, thirty-something minus the six unconscious on the floor around Kier.
“You are not under attack. We’re not here to do anything except talk and take shelter.
The Haar brought us here, the same as you. ”
There was a mixed bag of responses to the Haar’s name—furious grumbling and muted surprise. I’d probably be pissed off if I was uprooted from my home and family and dumped here, too. I’d definitely be in the grumbling camp.
My assigned guard grabbed my shoulders in both hands, wrangling me into a tight hold. Better hurry up, if they still planned to lock me up.
“I know you think I’m the enemy, but six months ago the humans and goblins struck a ceasefire, and I’m the main reason that’s still holding.
I married Prince Kier Kollastus.” I paused and hooked a thumb towards my husband.
“In case you don’t recognise him, the guy knocking ten bells out of anyone that attempts to keep him from me is Kier. ”
“Prince Kier would never attack us,” a voice called from somewhere among the buffet of muscles and fists.
“He would if you threatened his mate, dumbass.”
A louder murmur went through them this time, and I earned myself quite a few curious stares. I gave them a regal wave.
“And since some of you have never met me, I’m Zabaletta Kollastus, wife of Kier, princess of Bluescale.
You can call me Letta.” And yes, I did feel like a badass listing my title.
I would take any opportunity to do it again.
“You’ve missed a lot since the Haar brought you here, but Kier and I can get you up to date.
Just stop trying to separate us, and we’ll explain why we’re here. ”
I let a hopeful pause follow my words, undermined slightly by the meaty slam of a fist into someone’s unmentionables. The guy went down hard, hit his head on the solid black floor, and passed out like the others around Kier.
“We’ll speak to the prince,” someone answered finally. I got the sense they ranked above the serious bastard pushing me slowly across the vast space, further and further from Kier. “But we do not negotiate with the enemy.”
“Well, my existence as Kier’s wife would slightly void that statement, don’t you think? Kier’s too territorial to get a word out right now, which means you’re dealing with me.”
“Or you’ve harmed our prince, and turned him into this mindless beast,” a female voice cracked across the space. The effect was visceral. Warriors recoiled, then fury darkened their features, turned their stares to slits as they watched me hauled across the room.
Valour, Baby, time to get out of here. No major injuries, let’s keep this quick and bloodless.
A rush of petulant frustration hit me, bringing a smile to my face.
“See! She smiles! She admits it.”
I groaned. “Oh for fuck’s sake. I did not brainwash or otherwise harm my own damn husband—”
“The spire,” someone yelled. “She deserves the spire.”
I gave the big lug manhandling me a wary look. “Tell me the spire isn’t a torture device.”
“It’s not,” he murmured.
“Worse?”
He nodded.
Great.
Valour. Baby. Now.
I drove an elbow into—a solid wall of muscle, gods fucking dammit.
I grunted, both my elbow and ego bruised.
Valour and Baby had better luck, diving through the mounting fog like streaks of blue lightning.
Baby was better at following my command, using his paws and tail to knock warriors off their feet, getting in their faces and growling.
Valour took little nibbles. And the odd finger. I was sure it would grow back.
Probably.
Kier’s roar of fury filled the vast room, the storm clouds above seeming to amplify the sound, the fog below carrying it into every corner.
“Release me, or this turns into a bloodbath,” I warned the wall of goblin strength pushing me steadily across the room.
I saw the door he was aiming for, carved with a crude impression of Gaia, and could only assume it led to the spire.
“I’m serious. If you lock me up, Kier will go fucking ape shit. ”
He shoved me harder this time. I felt Baby twist towards us, enraged at that shove, our bond bursting with visions of hands dismembered and claws raked down a blue forearm that had the nerve to touch me.
A writhing mass of fog reached us first, falling like a cloak around the Haar’s shoulders as he looked at the distress on my face, then the hands gripping me tightly, then the face of my jailor.
“Husbands,” the goblin guard breathed. “You said husbands.”
“Yup. Plot twist: Kier is the Haar, and the Haar is Kier. I could have explained all this politely, but you had to go and order me to the spire.”
The word spire had such a profound effect on the Haar that he screeched, the sound like a sonic wave, slamming into my ears with the force of a punch.
I staggered back, surprised to find the wall of goblin muscle gone.
He cowered on the floor now, and a stunned glance showed a majority of other warriors did the same, their hands thrown over their ears, blood trickling from their ears.
“Kier,” I shouted, sacrificing my left ear to reach for him, squeezing his hand. “Enough. Stop, it’s enough now.”
His nostrils flared, but he reluctantly closed his mouth, and the thick fog on the floor thinned.
I caught my breath, my fight or flight instincts high and jagged.
I was so skittish that when Kier—blood and flesh Kier—raced across the room with a powerful growl that spoke of untold suffering for anyone who got between us, I jumped hard.
He reached me in seconds, his arms overlapping the Haar’s, both sides of Kier engulfing me in a violent promise of safety. His forehead came to rest against mine, furious eyes searching my stare, looking for pain.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, not entirely convincingly.
His lips brushed my cheek, the warmth lingering, soothing some of the tension from my shoulders.
The way he jolted against me came as a surprise, and so was the way he folded and slid to the ground.
I yanked hard on Valour and Baby, a violent quiver going through me, knotting my stomach, burning my throat as bile rose.
“Kier?” I demanded, my voice a sharp, twisted rasp. I was desperate to crouch beside him, to search for a pulse, to feel the shiver of his breath over my knuckles, but I was too conscious of people closing in on all sides.
Two blue streaks of animalistic, snarling power reached us right as I locked eyes with the middle-aged woman who’d struck Kier’s head. My upper lip curled, rage pounding through my bloodstream, but my hands were unsteady as I reached for a weapon.
“Lock up both of them,” she ordered, her voice ringing with authority.
“Yes, General,” someone clipped.
I patted my waist, my thighs, searching for a dagger, a throwing star, anything. My breathing skipped. Oh gods. I’d used all my weapons. All except Valour and Baby and my own fists.
“We fight our way out of here,” I told my creatures and the Haar, giving him a quick glance. “No,” I hissed, the shaking in my hands intensifying. He was gone. The hit to Kier’s head must have wiped out his strength too.
I was alone, my husband was unconscious, potentially worse, and I had no way of defending him. My soul howled, ripping at the edges, so frantic it felt like a blade slicing my chest.
What I said about no major injuries? I’ve changed my mind.
A hiss poured from Baby as goblins closed in around us and my unconscious husband.
Baby was excited, the furry psychopath. I expected Valour to be a little more dignified, but she leapt into the goblins with a low, rumbling purr and sank her teeth into someone’s knee.
And all I could do was tremble, my hands in fists, my head such a mess that I couldn’t think of a single move to make as the woman stepped back, her command delivered, and the rest of the crowd closed in.
“Back off,” I warned breathlessly. “Anyone touches my husband, and you’re dead.”
Someone snorted. Valour dove and sank her teeth into his nuts. His high screech would have normally made me laugh, but that place of humour in my chest was an empty void. I backed up, sweat prickling my back, fine hairs standing on end and making me jump.
If I let them beat me, they’d hurt Kier. They might kill him.
Baby roared and dove into the crowd, biting and ripping in a frenzy, but all I could do was stand there uselessly, guarding my husband, the whites of my eyes probably broadcasting that I was prey as goblins and guards came within three feet. Wary, watching me.
The attack came from behind, without even a second’s warning, and I cried out as strong, midnight-blue hands enveloped mine, my wannabe jailor grabbing at my fingers. Trying to confiscate my rings, I realised in a flurry of true, icy fear.
I did something truly stupid, but I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t stop shaking.
Where was the snarky, taunting criminal who grew up climbing roofs in Seagrave, sneaking into homes, robbing the rich of their pearls and golden snuffboxes?
Where was the authoritative princess of the Bluescale Court who had powerful familiars and enough magic to threaten a wicked queen?
I could have fought. I could have tried. Instead, I ripped both rings off my fingers, stuffed them into my mouth, and swallowed. The gems scraped as they carved their way down my throat, but then they were gone. Safe. Kind of.
The goblin stared at me in shock.
“You’re not taking my babies again, asshole,” I panted, alarmed at the flat, empty tone that emerged from me. I refused to go back to that house in Greenheart Court, sick and suffering without Valour. How much worse would it be now that I had Baby?
Confusion entered the guard’s gaze as he watched me. I lifted my hand to fend him off, but he had my entire attention now, and that was stupid. There was a whole, towering room full of burly goblins, and one of them grabbed my arms, locking them behind my back.
I waited for Baby to slam into him, for Valour to tear him to shreds, but the blue glow had faded, along with the fog on the floor.
It took a single blow to the head for the brute holding me to knock me unconscious. I had nothing left to fight them with.