8. CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
Astaroth
T he walls of the Labyrinth helped hide the grin on my face while I walked the uneven cobblestoned paths. Vines and plants that once flourished with lush greenery were now blackened. They were far from dead though. The goblins didn’t understand why the plants and beasts changed, but Mergle and I did. Once I reclaimed my magic, things would be righted.
One of the bloodsuckles stretched out to greet me and rested on my shoulder. Its slick, leafy skin smoothed against my cheek as it puckered and smacked its carmine lips. My smile faltered as I thought about Calista while it nibbled on my finger and slurped down its meal. Tears had filled her azure eyes and trickled down her cheeks when she thought I’d left. I wanted to collect every single drop and keep them. Alas, I only captured one.
I flipped my hand over and the bead of fluid lifted from my palm. The wall on the other side of it stretched and danced through the liquid while it warbled in the air, just like the bubbles Calista used to blow for me. Tears were a fascinating bit of humanity. I huffed a laugh when I thought about the first time I witnessed one of them cry. I thought they were withering by leaking their life force out of their eyes. It was terrifying to witness. I wasn’t entirely wrong, though.
Every tear a human shed contained a fiber of their being in that moment—who they had become, what they were thinking and feeling when it escaped them. In essence, it was but a thin string in the tapestry that was them. As they cried, they cleansed themselves of damaged or unwanted threads, severing their connection to it. I wondered what Calista was severing from herself.
Raising my hand, I focused on the undulating droplet. It was delicate, and I couldn’t risk destroying it. With a gentle nudge of magic, I probed the outer layer for a weak point to access. When I found it, I slipped inside.
It was a vast cavern full of loss and despair with an underlying flavor of rage. “What had you lost that was so precious to you?” My thought sent out an echo of ripples. I quickly reined it in to prevent popping my connection with her. As I did, I was inundated with images and remnants of emotion. Each one made it very clear.
She blamed me.
I retreated and the droplet came back into focus. I wanted to feel it all, every facet of every emotion so I could change them when the moment came. The tear floated toward me, and I opened my mouth. Salt spread over my tongue when it touched down. I savored the flavor before swallowing. That underlying rage scorched a path of hatred down my throat and came to rest in my chest. It was stronger than I believed it to be, building an inferno inside me, a silent poison that reminded me of the beautiful and deadly blue bell. My lip quirked. What a lovely comparison, and one that befitted Calista.
I brushed the vine off my shoulder and straightened when one of my fellow brethren rounded the bend in the wall and hesitated. Could he feel her potent rage simmering inside me as well? He dropped to a knee and tucked his chin. As I approached, I plucked a black rose growing between the cracks and tucked it behind his ear.
A gnarled hand jerked up and cupped it. “You are most generous, my king.”
I veered past without responding, my thoughts far from the goblin looking upon me in wonder. I continued my jaunt through the pathways of my personal playground, losing myself inside my thoughts and Calista’s emotions. They swept through me, weighing me down and setting me ablaze. It was never my intent to cause her such suffering. I would rectify this when she returned.
Fluttering caught my attention and grated on my nerves. It had been a while since last I heard it. Homing in on the area, I spotted the shimmer of wings and watched as the pixie flitted about. I stepped off to the side and hid in an alcove to keep from startling it. When it approached, I readied myself to snag it from the air.
The pixie squeaked when I made contact. The flutter of its wings beat against my fist as if to stun me and set it free. Trapped inside my grip, it squirmed and bit and fought, but I did not let go. All it did was tickle my finger and leave a shimmer on my skin. I brought it up to my face to get a closer look at it.
“Another duster has come to play.” The pixie stilled, studying the mask on my face just as Calista did in the woods. “Do you have nothing to say to me?”
The pixie didn’t speak or move.
“I will ask you the same as I have asked your kin. How are you entering my realm?”
Yet again, no response.
I growled, “Why are you here?”
A high-pitched noise emanated from it.
“If you have nothing to say to me, then I have nothing to say to you.” It sighed and looked relieved when I opened my hand. With wings buzzing quickly, it went to fly away and bumped into the glass ball that manifested around it in my palm. “This is the only purpose you serve.”
Petrified, the pixie slapped and pounded against the orb. Its screams were locked inside its glass prison of terror where only it could hear them. I hung the ball from the tip of a vine which curled around it, leaves splaying on the sphere. If they wanted to travel into the labyrinth—where me and my brethren were disposed of to be forgotten—then they would remain here with us, left to their lonesome to be forgotten, as well. And if they didn’t want to enlighten us as to the meaning of their visit, or how they circumvented the death magic, then they would brighten our evenings by becoming beacons to guide the way. None of my goblins would bother it or help it.
A laugh huffed out my nose. Because they couldn’t reach it.
While on my way back to the castle, I ran across the same goblin I passed before. This time, he didn’t shake when I approached him; he only dropped to his knee and bowed his head again.
“Digras,” I said in greeting and question. I prided myself on knowing the name of every goblin in the realm.
“Yes, my king?” Digras kept his head down.
“Can you get a message out for me?”
His chin jerked up and an excited grin pulled at what was left of his leathery, dark lips. “Why yes, my king!”
“Put a call out for Jessandra.”
The goblin’s large eyes bulged as he stuttered, “My king.”
I stiffened. “Do you deny my request?”
“Wh–what you ask is a death sentence.”
My face grew hot, and the goblin dropped to both knees, nose pressed to the stones with a swiftness. I knew my eyes were swirling and a shadow had begun to spin behind me. It happened every time I lost my composure. With Calista’s rage coursing through me, I had none left.
“I am sorry, sire.” Digras peeked up with glassy eyes. “Please do not forsake me.”
I knelt before the trembling soul and rubbed his back. “My old friend and playmate.”
Digras hesitantly relaxed and sat back on his heels the way we would do as children when we played our games on these very stones.
“It wasn’t me that forsook you.” My hand paused and grew tense. “It is you that has forsaken me.”
“No!” Digras yelled as I picked him up by the back of his linen shirt and tossed him into the swirling shadow behind me. The goblin’s screams faded as the shadow spun into a minuscule dot and dissipated into nothing.
I stormed back to the castle, anger bubbling over. I’d never felt fury quite like this. If I did encounter anyone, they quickly strayed from my path to avoid me. How could Digras tell me no? That he feared Jessandra more than his own king infuriated me. After all I had done to ensure his survival. I should have allowed the realm to absorb his essence and snuff him from existence. What a waste of my power.
Once inside the castle, I veered toward the throne room and to my awaiting entourage. All conversation stopped when my boots thudded against the marble flooring. The goblins stood at attention.
I scanned their faces as my nostrils flared. Fear and excitement lingered in the air. “Who here will deliver a message?”
Some of the goblins spoke before the others, dropping to a knee and extending a hand.
“You, Vreck.” The goblin’s gaze darted between the others before he stood on shaky legs. “Since you were the last to offer, you will deliver the message.”
“Yes, sire.” Deflated, he sunk back to a knee. “Anything for my king.”
I smiled, lips stretching menacingly over my teeth. “Bring me Jessandra.”
Vreck tensed and jerked his head up. I dared him to speak against me. Smarter than Digras, Vreck nodded and lowered his head. “I will venture out first thing in the morn.”
The clap of my palms reverberated around the room. Some of the goblins flinched. It almost vexed me more when the others didn’t.
“I knew I could depend on you.”
I didn’t and secretly wanted to make an example out of him, too, in front of the others. I wanted to strike fear into their hearts, so they never questioned me again. They had it far too easy around here while they waited for me to save them from this pit of despair.
Vreck forced a smile. I forced another, as well. “Carry on.”
They scattered, exiting in three opposite directions. There were too many entrances to this room. Not that it mattered. None of them were ignorant enough—or intelligent enough—to assassinate me.
I walked to my throne and stared at the skulls facing me. The gaping holes where eyes once rested were cold, but I remembered the life that danced in them. Every single one. I removed the one I wore and ran a finger over its long, bumpy forehead adorned with wicked, curved horns. They led to close-set, over-sized eyes resting on high cheekbones with a short, rounded beak of a nose. During its life, it had the tiniest of mouths and a satchel of skin that swayed beneath its chin, making it appear gaunt, while the rest of its tall, long-limbed body was bony and emaciated. It was anything but.
The Gobblesnatcher was a gluttonous, bipedal beast with a lust for anything that moved. Once it cornered its prey, it impaled them with their poisonous horns, stretched its mouth open, and shoved its prey inside where it remained in that sack as it sucked them dry before regurgitating the remnants on the ground. More often than not, the victim survived long enough to die from the draining and not the attack. I had heard many of my brethren crying out from inside those death sacks over my lifetime. Sometimes, it would eat several of them at once.
This wasn’t my favorite beast that roamed these lands. It was, however, my greatest victory. A quiver of fear and disgust tickled my spine as the memory of being trapped in that near impenetrable membrane played out in my mind. I killed it in my youth before I knew the power I possessed and how to yield it. It triggered a lust in me to hunt, to conquer, and to be the most feared predator in the realm. I promised myself I would never fall victim to anything ever again. But I did.
I hung it on my throne next to the others and stared into the sockets of the vacant skulls.
I became her victim. And, in return, she was now mine.
Oh, how the tables had turned.