23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Calista
T he goblin market looked exactly the way I thought it would and beyond what I imagined. Similar to a bohemian tent city, vendors filled the cobblestone streets along the east side of the castle walls. Handmade wares hung from the tent poles and filled tables and shelves. Most of it was necessities such as tools, cooking utensils, food, and clothing, but some of it was unique, artsy, even exotic. From the moment we entered, I found myself trying to dart from tent to tent, excited by what I would discover.
Jessandra pinched the nape of my neck and held me hostage in front of her. “We are on a mission.”
I pouted, feeling like a child on a leash while goblins added items to their bags and wagons before weaving through the crowd to the next booth. “But Astaroth said I could have whatever I wanted.”
“Another day.”
“Another day,” I wagged my head, mocking her under my breath.
Her next words were right by my ear and sliced straight through to my heart. “You’ll have plenty of them.”
That knocked the wind out of my sails. An overwhelming surge of grief and homesickness replaced the momentary joy and settled in my gut. It was heavy and nauseating, and at this moment I wanted nothing more than to be oblivious again so I could take a break from it.
“This way.” Jessandra directed me to a fork in the road.
Behind the line of tents stood a row of buildings with hanging wooden signs. The first had a cleaver, the second a loaf of bread, and the third a candlestick with the little finger loop. Just beyond that, was a sign with a needle and thread.
A bell tinkled when Jessandra opened the door to the ramshackle old shop. Bolts of fabric in an array of dark colors lined the walls. I wasn’t one for bright colors, but with everything being so drab, it would be nice to see something colorful.
“What do you want?”
I followed the gruff, feminine voice and discovered one of the tiniest goblins to date. She stood about two feet tall and looked older than Methuselah with a measuring tape hung loose like a scarf around her neck. The garb she donned resembled an ancient nightgown worn by a heavy chain-smoking mummy. I didn’t trust her abilities one bit in her goblin muumuu.
“She needs dresses. Fit her for whatever she wants and send it to the castle,” Jessandra said, then went to leave.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Outside. If I am gone when you’ve finished, stay until I return.”
“But—” The whole building shook when the door slammed shut, but the seamstress didn’t seem concerned about it.
The goblin hobbled over to me using a ruler as a cane. “Well, we haven’t got all day. Strip.”
“Excuse me?”
Her eyes rolled up to look at me in an annoyed fashion. “I can’t properly measure you if you’re wearing…what are you wearing?”
I jerked back when her chubby baby hand tugged on the shin of my sweatpants. “Um, joggers.”
She squinted at the seam then lightly swatted me with the ruler. “Strip.”
I looked around, hesitant to disrobe in the middle of a shop where anyone could walk in at any moment.
“No one is coming in today,” she said as she climbed up a rickety ladder with a round pedestal on top. Once she reached the top, she stood about five feet tall. The pockets of her gown filled to overflowing with notions. “Everyone is at the market.”
Watching the door, I quickly removed my clothing, thankful I wore decent underwear. I almost snorted thinking about the dirty little goblins judging me for my underwear choices when they probably didn’t wear any under their worn, itchy looking pants held up by twine. Now that I thought about it, why did it matter what I wore when most everyone else looked like hobos?
“What’s your name?” I asked as she slid the measuring tape from her neck and stared at the pendant around mine.
“That’s a lovely trinket.” She tossed the ribbon about my neck and tightened it before loosening it and measuring around my shoulders. “They call me Bobbins.”
I ignored her compliment and smiled when she released one end and reeled the tape in. “That’s a cute nickname.”
Bobbins paused before laying the tape along the length of my arm. “I suppose. Turn.” She measured across my shoulders. “And you are the talk of the realm.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I guess you don’t get many visitors here.”
“On the contrary,” she said, surprising me. “But none I’ve gotten to use my creativity on in a while. Arms up.”
I turned to face her. “What does that mean?”
“It means lift your arms.”
I struck a T pose. “No. None you’ve gotten to use your creativity on.”
Bobbins let out a hoarse laugh as she worked her way down my torso with quick, experienced movements. “Exactly what I said.”
Astaroth had brought other women here? To do what? Have sex with them? Make babies? Was he trying to build a harem? The image of Astaroth surrounded by beautiful women pawing at him and running their fingers through his mane of glorious hair made my stomach sour and teeth grit. If he thought I would willingly join his little cult, he chose the wrong female.
After measuring the rest of my body, Bobbins said, “Clothe yourself and tell me what you’d like.”
A smirk tugged at my lip as I dressed. If I had to be stuck here against my will, I would toy with him and drive him insane along with me. I drew some quick sketches on a yellowed piece of paper to explain what I wanted while Bobbins stared at me like I grew a second head, then hurried out of the shop before she could tell me no.
“Jessandra?” I called out when I didn’t see her.
I leaned against the building, worried it would topple at first, and watched the hustle and bustle of the market down the street as I thought about what Bobbins said. Did Astaroth have other women here? Were they goblins now? Was I going to become one? My heart rate spiked. I hadn’t really thought of that until now. That should have been one of the first questions out of my mouth when Astaroth arrived on my doorstep, but there were other happenings that took precedence.
“Jessandra?” I panicked and searched between the buildings.
The stone pulsed that soothing rhythm again. It worked through my body, easing the rising tension and pent-up frustration from all the unanswered questions. I took a breath and looked back at the market.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled and strolled up the street to do what I wanted to do to begin with.
The first booth didn’t have anything I wanted, but the next booth had wooden music boxes with gorgeous, intricate designs carved into them. One with a tree caught my eye. The same tree on the tapestry in the dining room. I picked it up, flipped it open, and a song started to play. I hummed along with it until it ended. Confused, I closed the box and stared at the lid. I had never heard that song before, so how did I know it?
As I went to open it again, a hand landed on top of the box slamming it shut. An irritated goblin with a tuft of hair sticking straight up from its bumpy head said, “The first listen is free. If you want more, there is a fee.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at the box before he snatched it from my hand. “It’s quite beautiful. Did you make all of these?”
“I did.” He beamed.
“Do they all play the same song?” I asked, opening a different one with a swirl on the lid.
He closed it nearly pinching the skin of my finger.
“Do you want it or not?” He held it up with a little wave of his hand. “Five pretty pennies.”
I frowned. “I’ll have to get it next time. Astaroth didn’t give me any money.”
Eyes wide, he said, “Sire sent you?”
“Um, yeah,” I replied, noticing others slowing down to listen.
He quickly set it aside out of view. “I’ll take it to the castle.”
“Tha—” I caught myself when his eyes widened again. “That would be wonderful.”
His shoulders fell along with his hopes of me owing him a favor.
The moment I turned to walk away, a gaggle of goblins mobbed me. They fought each other to get near, almost knocking me off my feet and shoving wares at me to get my attention in the hopes I’d buy from them, too.
“You know you need a biscuit whipper!”
“What about a zwoot? Everyone needs a zwoot!”
“No one needs a zwoot!” A goblin shoved another out of the way. “But a fish tickler….”
“We’ve got piece cods! You definitely need one of these!”
Nervous by how quickly they shifted to hostile tactics, I glanced around and locked gazes with a more humanoid goblin who pushed his way through the group. His dirty red hat reminded me of a sock cap, but it wasn’t knitted nor were there seams on it. The rest of him was just as filthy.
“For a pretty penny, the dust of a Bluebell can be yours!”
The glass jar held something bluer than blue. It flicked back and forth as he shook it from side to side to entice me. The color was hypnotizing. I had never seen a shade like that before, and I wanted a closer look. As I leaned down to inspect it, the little man smirked and raised the bottle up to my nose. There was no powder in the jar though. It was more like a twig… or maybe a stem of a flower. A second later, a small face pressed against the glass, tiny hands beside it beat against its prison, begging to be set free. Was this the pixie that escaped last night?
His eyes lit up and he pointed at my chest. I looked down to find the black obsidian-like stone had slipped outside my shirt, rainbows flashed in it as it swayed around my neck. He grew more excited. “Or a trade will work, if you are willing to barter.”
I startled the man by gripping his wrist. The other goblins jumped back as I pulled him closer. He tried to break free, but I was stronger than him.
“That is so pretty,” I said, awing over it so he would let down his guard.
The man stilled, giving me a wary glance. “Yes, deary. And for two pretty pennies it can be yours.”
“Two pretty pennies?” I tightened my grip and tugged him closer. “You just told me one.” I lifted the pendant, and his gaze latched onto it. “Or a trade.”
“Well,” he huffed, fighting between looking at me or the pendant I dangled in his face. “The price has doubled.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” I said.
He pulled harder against me, his words growly, “I says it is!”
One of the nearby goblins shoved their hand into one of their pockets and rooted around. Their face lit up as they pulled their hand free, holding up something metallic. “Two pretty pennies!”
“Yes,” the man hissed as his eyes widened with glee.
Before he could touch their outstretched hand, I slapped it away with my free one. “Don’t you dare!”
He glared at me as they jumped backward, holding their hands to their chest.
“You need to release it,” I demanded.
His shocked expression confused me.
“What?” they squinted. “It’s nothing more than dust.”
The pixie inside fluttered its wings rapidly. The man’s eyes bounced between me and the jar before he jumped to grab it with his other hand. I went for it, too, and it fell to the ground, shattering on the cobblestone road.
He stumbled backward, covering his face with his disgusting, faded red hat.
“Oh no,” I whimpered as I reached down to scoop up the prone creature.
With my focus on the pixie, I didn’t see the man sneak up to my side. He leaned forward and snatched the swinging pendant, pulling it over my head along with some of my hair.
“Hey!” I reached out for him.
“You take mine; I take yours,” his voice called out from within the crowd around us.
I’ll find the little shit, I thought to myself as I bent over the pixie again. But before I could retrieve it, a hand covered my mouth and nose and jerked me away. A stern voice mumbled in my ear, “No, you don’t.” Then a foot came down atop the small creature and smooshed it into the stone.
I gasped but couldn’t get any air. My fingers pried at the hand pressed firmly over my face until I got free. “Why did you do that?” I screeched.
Jessandra propped her fists on her hips, her foot still covering the creature. “Death is a much higher payment than you should give that rotten redcap. I told you to stay at the shop.”
My head tilted back as I looked up at her. The intricate bun atop her head fooled the eye and made her appear taller than she already was. Was she wearing her hair like that earlier? I gulped down the knot in my throat and choked on it. A coughing fit took over me, tears filling my eyes and blurring my surroundings.
“By Roth’s hairy balls,” Jessandra muttered.
She gripped my shoulders and spun me around. I tripped on the cobblestones as she shoved me forward, bumping into who knew what or who. My knees struck the uneven stones when she kicked my legs out from under me and submerged my head in water. A flashback of bathtime sent me into a panic. I resisted, pushing against the concrete wall beneath me, but her hand at the back of my head held me under as I thrashed about.
Jessandra’s muffled voice was loud and clear. “Swallow.”
I panicked more. Trapped beneath the water, I was certain if I swallowed, I’d drown.
“Swallow or die,” her voice came again. “Your choice.”
Trying hard to overcome the fear and discomfort, I did as I was told. Immediately, my head was pulled out of the water, and I sprawled onto my back. Water shot up from my mouth like a geyser. The burning in my chest intensified as it traveled up my throat. It felt like something was inside me. I clawed at my skin to keep the prickly barbs from scratching my esophagus. It scurried faster, spurred on by the water I violently heaved up. I pushed onto my hands and knees, the force of every heave arching my back. A hand struck between my shoulder blades, dislodging the obstruction. I buckled under the force and spat it onto the ground. A spiky ball the color of the blue pixie lay in front of me.
I swayed on all fours, trying to take a breath that wouldn’t reach my lungs. My vision faded, and I began to lose consciousness. I was going to die here in front of these little monsters, and not one would save me because of their distorted moral code. And now the wishing stone was gone, so I couldn’t add another tally to the already long list of favors I owed the asshole who forced me here.
Jessandra’s face appeared in front of mine. “Where is your necklace?”
A croak was all I could offer her.
“Where!”
I collapsed on my side and pointed a finger in the direction the thief ran off in.
“I will find it.” Jessandra’s spine stiffened as she searched the crowd, and mumbled, “Roth strike me dead when he sees me.”
She ran off after the redcap leaving me soaked at the foot of the fountain. The prickly blue ball I vomited lay within view, taunting me as I struggled to breathe. It was useless. I had a brief moment to accept my fate. As my eyes drifted closed, a shadow began swirling wildly in the air.
He was too late.