26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Calista
T he castle bustled with activity as I roamed the halls to learn the lay of my temporary home. It was much different than last time when anyone who was able went out in search of the pixie. Although nearly a week had passed, it felt like yesterday to me. Servants hurried by in their rush to complete their tasks and not displease their king. They didn’t look at or talk to me, but I would catch them watching me when they didn’t think I was paying them attention. It made me wonder if they were allowed to speak to me or if I scared them. They scared me when I was younger. Now…I wasn’t sure how I felt about them. What I did know was I was tired of walking these bland and boring halls. I needed to be outside and away from here so I could think clearly.
When I woke this morning, Astaroth was gone, and his side of the bed was cold. Even the vomit on the floor had been wiped clean. Being the curious person I am, I spent a minute nosing around his space since there was light enough to do so. His room was an emo kid’s wet dream with black velvet curtains pinned back in the mouths of fae gargoyle creatures to reveal his balcony. A massive painting hung above the fireplace of the labyrinth from an aerial view. I wondered how accurate it was with their lack of technology and how the corridors changed. Off to the side was a sitting area with two plush, high-back chairs and a round coffee table made of gnarled wood. Shelves wrapped around the corner behind it, filled with books, decor, and weapons. My finger danced above the spine of a leatherbound tome. I itched to slide it out, run my hands over it, and crack it open. Did it contain secrets that could direct me home? I dropped my hand knowing full well he would sense if any of his belongings had been disturbed.
Instead, I scooped up my music box and stared at the bed we had shared for days. The previous night’s conversation played in my mind, along with the vision of him shirtless. As thin as he is, I was surprised he wasn’t bony at all. Astaroth was GQ worthy, and that didn’t help matters in the slightest.
I gazed out one of the many open windows with a longing I couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps it was homesickness and missing Kaiden and Gina or feeling out of place here and wanting my ordinary life back. Or wondering where Astaroth disappeared to and how our next interaction would go, or when Jessandra would return so I could get off house arrest and leave. I guess what it all boiled down to was freedom. It was the greatest common denominator, the central spoke they all revolved around, and it was stolen from me. That steady burning anger and resentment reared its head. I refused to have all my freedoms stripped from me. I didn’t need a babysitter to go on a damn walk.
My hand went to the wishing stone and slid it back and forth on the chain as I worked up the courage to leave the castle grounds. It was an absentminded habit that began long ago. I stopped when I noticed what I was doing and covered it with my palm when I saw one of the maids watching me. Would she be the next to try to steal it? It wasn’t safe around my neck, especially outside the castle walls without a guard.
I took off for my room with renewed vigor only stopping when I passed the tapestry of Astaroth on the stairs. I looked over my shoulder at his gaze that seemed to follow me and flipped it the bird.
“Screw you, buddy. I can do what I want.”
I jogged the rest of the way to my room, chuckling at my childish behavior. It was so dumb, but I didn’t care because it felt so good. Rebellious was my middle name growing up, and I hadn’t felt that rush of adrenaline since I was teen, sneaking out of the house with friends and boyfriends to do things we had no business doing. But we did them, and all in the name of freedom and to feel alive.
I closed the door behind me and rushed to the music box. Slipping the necklace off, I tucked it inside the box and snapped the lid closed.
“Where can I hide you?” I mumbled as I spun a slow circle searching the bare room. It was the same size as Astaroth’s, only the layout was flipped. Anywhere I could hide it would be the first place someone looked. I had to get creative. Up high would be perfect since the goblins couldn’t reach. I set the box on the bed and worked my way around the room feeling for loose stones. They were too large to loosen though. I dropped my chin and sighed. A chipped floor tile caught my eye. The broken corner screamed “Pull here!” I dropped down and picked at it. There was some give, but I’d have to be careful not to crack it. With each little tug, the grout around it crumbled. What could I use to break the rest? I ran to the closet and grabbed a metal hanger and one of my heels. Holding the toe of the shoe, I used it like a hammer and tapped around the tile just hard enough to wear it down. The hanger fit perfectly in the groove to scrape at the remaining bits. I brushed away the dust and chunks with my hand and tried to lift it again. With a final crack, the thin brick lifted out of the floor.
It was dark and the depth was questionable. I grabbed a candle and stuck it inside. Spiders scurried away from the opening, and so did I. I almost died once; I didn’t want to find out what a fae spider bite would do to me. Pretty sure it wouldn’t give me superpowers. Hesitant, I went back to the hole and stood the hanger longways. It touched a hard surface and still stuck out.
I snatched the box off the bed, tucked it inside, and replaced the tile hiding its whereabouts. For double measure, I scooted the small nearby table over the top of it and set the chair beside it.
I crossed my arms and rubbed my bottom lip as I inspected my handiwork.
“Perfect.”
Escaping, if I could even call it that, was easier than I thought it would be. I just walked right out. The goblins guarding the bridge were too busy having a pissing contest. Literally. Their backs were to me as they guffawed over whose stream of urine arched higher and farther. Men and their dicks were ridiculous. How they continued to hold seats of power was beyond me. It made me think of that quote, “Behind every great man was a great woman… blah, blah blah.” This woman busted out and intended to do something so she wouldn’t go crazy.
Goblin Circle wasn’t as crowded with the market closed. I was grateful to have no one in my face begging me to buy stuff. I looked around. And no redcaps trying to kill me with fairy dust. Just me and—a door slammed. Then another. The few goblins remaining noticed me and hightailed it away.
“Okay then.”
I reached the side street where Bobbins’ shop was and decided to pay her a visit.
“Hello?” I called out over the bell.
“I see you didn’t wither away,” her gravelly voice mumbled from off to the side. She stood atop a stump at a dress form with pins sticking out of her mouth. “Guess that means I have to finish these dresses.”
“Glad to see you, too,” I said and dropped down on a short stool. “And yes. The dress he picked for me was—”
Bobbins glared at me before plucking the pins from her mouth and pointing them at me. “Choose your next words carefully. I worked long and hard on that gown, I did.”
I swallowed. “It was gorgeous.”
“That’s what I thought.” She humphed. “Since you’re here, we might as well fit you for the one I have completed. But by the looks of ya, I’ll have to take it in more.”
She shocked me when she hopped off the stump and disappeared behind a standing shade. I had a moment of panic, thinking her bones would shatter on impact. Bobbins was not as frail as she appeared. Wheels squeaked as she pushed another dress form out in the open.
My jaw dropped in shock. She pulled off the impossible and turned my horrid sketch meant to ward off any man into the most elegant and divine garment I’d ever seen. Bobbins would put any designer to shame.
“I took some liberties with your dra’rings,” she said as I circled it in awe of the intricate details she added.
“I see that.”
“Go ahead.” She waved her hand. “Let’s get you into it.”
I smiled as I hurriedly undressed then stepped into the gown she held out. The silk felt like a rush of cool water as it slid over my skin. When I got it to my waist, I unclipped my bra then fastened the choker-like collar around my neck. I moved to the full-length mirror as she fanned out the short waterfall train.
Bobbin chose the darkest green that ombred into the black waterfall spilling around my feet. The halter bodice was a transparent black lace with beaded appliqués covering the breasts that trailed down to a V right past the belly button. That ombered silk split all the way up the front along my right leg and stopped shy of revealing my dignity.
Bobbins tugged the material in the back to pin it together. It molded to my shape like a second skin. “How’d you get this scar?” she asked and rubbed a finger over it.
I always forgot about it because my bra strap covered it. “I can’t remember. Probably something stupid I did as a kid.” I turned to take in the backless dress and how the skirt hugged my hips and bottom before flowing to the floor. “Bobbins,” I breathed, pinching the material and turning side to side.
“If you say you don’t approve, I’ll ne’er make you another one.” She gave my hand a gentle slap with the ruler. “You’ll wrinkle it.”
“I approve,” I said with the biggest grin.
“I thought it the ugliest thing e’er requested, but I do say it looks far more beautiful on you.” She looked away from my reflection and up at me. “I think I’ll enjoy making garments for you.”
A pang of guilt struck. I didn’t want her to enjoy it too much. I planned to leave this place one way or another, preferably sooner than later.
I closed the gap to the mirror to inspect the brooch. Astaroth’s throne. My throat clenched under the weight of yet another shackle bounding me. Joy deflating, I allowed Bobbins to help me out of the gown and redressed.
“What’s the matter, dearie? I thought you liked it.”
“I do.” I forced a smile. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams.”
She nodded, not buying what I was selling. “I’ll finish it and send it over in time for the dinner bell.”
That dress will do the complete opposite of what I was hoping for. And after last night’s conversation with Astaroth, I felt things between us would move along faster than I’d like, especially wearing clothes like that.
As I slipped on my shoes, Bobbins said, “Happiness is an illusion, like all things in life.” She held up a needle, squinted, and pushed the thread through its eye. “The magic is in the making.”
I said goodbye to Bobbins, promising I’d be back soon for her to fit the next dress, and pondered her philosophical fae babble while I roamed the gritty streets. Magic is what tethered me to this mess for my foreseeable lifespan. Humans talked about magic never fully comprehending what it meant. I didn’t understand it, and I was standing in it, trapped without a way out because I lacked the “magic” to make it happen.
“Stupid place,” I muttered with frustration. “Stupid rules. Stupid fucking magic.” I kicked a fragment of broken brick, and it flew between the buildings. Trash fluttered out to the edge of the street farther in front of me when it landed. “Nasty ass little goblins.”
“I heard that!”
I spun around, but no one was on the street. They all hid in their dilapidated homes and watched me from their hiding spots. I could feel judgment oozing from their open windows and cracked shutters.
I continued on, reaching the debris I caused. How much trash could they possibly have when they produced very little? Apparently, a lot with the way it piled between the buildings. I scooted it back with my foot, mindful after the shit pot incident. The trash heap wobbled and spilled further out.
“Great.”
No one else cared for the mess. Why should I? Right as I was about to leave, something caught my eye. What resembled the leg of a toy poked out amidst the rubble. Cringing, I waded through the trash and plucked it from the pile. It was a tiny goblin statue a bit smaller than a Barbie. Face twisted in pain, its arms curled up to its chest and knees knocked. One of its hands was missing too.
“That’s dark and depressing.” Exactly how I felt. My life was a dumpster fire, and here I was standing in the middle of the landfill where I was dumped.
I quickly climbed out and leaned against the wall to inspect my find. I traced its realistic features with my fingertip and lost myself in its pain-filled gaze. Why would anyone immortalize this level of agony and then chuck it in the trash? I hugged it to my chest and looked up and down the deserted street. Not a single soul dared step foot outside while I was here. I was alone in a world full of people, just like home. I guessed some things never changed.