CHAPTER 31
There was nothing for what felt like decades.
Until, suddenly, there was something. A voice. Calling my name, or at least I thought it was my name. “Naria!” He called it over and over again. It was a nice voice, a deep voice, a prince’s voice.
Lukas’s voice.
Gasping, my eyes shot open and I immediately retched, still tasting the foul grey powder on my tongue. Harsh reality slapped me across the face as I doubled over, except my body didn’t move. Something tight around my chest held me in place.
As my vision cleared, I noticed a wetness under my backside. I was sitting on the soggy forest floor, and unfortunately, we were still encircled by bloodthirsty goblins. Although this time, we were also surrounded by lopsided tents and poorly-made campfires that crackled in the cool night air. In the centre of the forest clearing was a large cauldron set over a fire. Three goblins worked together, stirring whatever festered in the pot with a large wooden spoon.
I hoped the strange substance bubbling away inside wasn’t for us. It smelled foul.
Glancing down, I took note of at least a dozen muddy ropes wrapped around my arms and chest. With my upper body bound against a large tree, and the intense pounding in my head, it appeared I wouldn’t be heading back to the Steel Palace anytime soon.
“Are you alright?”
I whipped my head towards the voice to see Lukas sitting beside me, bound just as tightly to the same tree. Apart from a few light scrapes on his face, he looked fine. Thank the Ancients.
“I’m okay,” I croaked. Leaning forward, I tried to wriggle out of the ropes.
“It’s no use,” he huffed. “I’ve been trying for the past ten minutes. They’ve tied these ropes so tight; the only way out is if they cut us free.”
A gulp bobbed in my throat.
“You’ve really gone and done it now,” he grumbled.
“What?”
“This is your fault, you know. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t been sneaking around with the fae.”
My mouth fell open. He couldn’t be serious. “Well, if you hadn’t insisted on having our conversation in the middle of the woods, then the goblins never would’ve found us. I just wanted to go home. I could be in bed right now, but instead, I’m here – probably about to get murdered by one of those little beasts.”
Lukas snorted, but then a half-smile tugged at his lips.
“What?” I growled.
“You called the Steel Palace home,” he remarked, glowing as if he’d just had a moment of revelation.
I scoffed. Did I really call it that? My tower definitely now felt more comfortable than my single bed in the shared girls’ dorm ever did. But still, Corlixir was my home. Or at least it will be when it’s rebuilt. Someday.
“So?” I scowled at him. There was no need to get caught up in these pointless details. “I live there, don’t I?”
“You do,” he mused playfully. “But I like to think that by saying things like that, you’re adjusting to the idea of becoming my wife. Drothmore would be your home for sure when you are Queen.”
His words were so absurd, I almost choked. Shaking my head so hard it hurt, I replied in a cutting tone, “May I just remind you of our current situation? Whether you think I am ‘adjusting’ to that idea or not, which I absolutely am not, you seem to be forgetting that we are tied up in the middle of a goblin camp – with no way of escaping! We’ll probably both die here, and all you want to do is play the blame game and make up stupid points that suggest I would ever want to marry you.”
“Relax, fiancée, I know what goblins are like.” He tipped his head back so it rested against the tree bark. “I know they’ll do anything for gold. They won’t harm us once they realise my father is the richest man in the realm.”
Despite how much I hated it when he was right, I prayed that this time he was. After an already disastrous day, getting murdered by a mob of deranged creatures was the last thing I needed.
“It’s odd though,” he said in a relaxed voice. “I’ve never known goblins to be this far from the mountains, let alone to have a camp out here. There must be something else going on. This isn’t normal.”
“No chat chat!” Out of nowhere, a goblin pounced onto Lukas’s lap, jabbing at his arm with his pointed staff.
“Back off,” Lukas growled, his calm demeanour vanishing just as quickly as the goblin had appeared.
The snarling creature launched some spit at his face. “Prisoners no chat chat! You wait for Grimlurd, then we feast!”
“Feast?” I echoed, startled by my own voice.
The beady-eyed goblin shot me a look, then cackled. Vicious laughter shook his entire tiny frame. “Yes, yes! We feast! Been much time since we had last o’oman. Tasty tasty o’omans. O’omans go in de pot!”
My stomach churned. Was that why their cauldron smelled so putrid?
“O’omans in de pot! O’omans in de pot!” The goblin chanted repeatedly, as if his next meal wasn’t still breathing right in front of him. Around us, other goblins heard his chorus and began to join in with their own scratchy voices. Together, they sang the chant, waving their staffs wildly in the air. A few adventurous ones even scampered up the sides of their tents to balance on the roof poles and perform some bizarre kind of dance.
“O’omans in de pot! O’omans in de pot!” It was a complete frenzy of unified screeching and flailing arms.
“This is mayhem,” I said breathily.
Lukas squirmed beneath the ropes. “They may be disgusting creatures, but we’ll get out of this alive. You have my word.”
Before I could argue how unlikely that was, especially considering we were surrounded by more than fifty chanting maniacs, a roaring voice boomed across the forest. The explosion of sound sent a dozen birds fleeing from their trees, and all the goblins’ tiny green mouths clamped shut.
“ORDA GOBLINS!”
All heads collectively snapped up towards the voice.
Across the camp, a broad, ominous figure loomed behind the cooking pot. While he was taller than the rest of the goblins, his head would still barely reach my shoulders. A thick, black fur-lined cape hung from his shoulders, while a long, crooked nose dominated his muddy green face. Lying across his chest was a necklace of miniature skills – no, not miniature skulls. Goblin skulls.
“Grimlurd!” the goblins yelped, all doubling over to plant their faces into the ground. Even the ones who were balanced on the tent poles leapt down to throw themselves against the forest floor, mimicking the others. Some form of bow, perhaps?
“Rise, gobbas,” the figure instructed with a proud wave of his hand. The goblins quickly obeyed, scrabbling to their feet. I didn’t speak a word of goblintongue, but judging by their respect for the figure, it was clear that ‘Grimlurd’ was some kind of king.
“Well, well, well…” His yellow irises homed in on Lukas and me, sending a chill down my spine. “What have my gobbas found for me today?”
The goblins jumped ecstatically and pointed their stubby fingers towards us. A few barked out some phrases in goblintongue, while others just cackled with glee.
As he listened to their squawks, Grimlurd’s lips stretched into a hideous smile. “O’omans, you say?” Then he stalked towards us, skulls jangling with each step. When his boots were mere inches from our feet, he lowered himself to a squat, the hideous grin still plastered on his face. “Tell me… What’s a couple of o’omans doing out at this time, wandering in the woods?”
Even from a metre away, I could still smell his putrid breath.
Lukas scowled. “Go on, tell him, Naria. You are the reason we are out here, after all.”
Seriously?
“We… Um…” My tongue felt heavy, as if it was covered in sticky honey. “We were just—” A breath caught in my throat as Grimlurd swooped his head in closer.
“Scared, o’oman?”
“No.” But my voice was trembling. And so were my knees.
Grimlurd laughed in a horrible, scratchy way. “Scared ones are the tastiest. I will enjoy eating you first.” He then jabbed his finger towards a nearby goblin. “You! Untie her. Get her ready for cooking. Tomorrow, we feast!”
Without waiting a second, the goblin he’d pointed to grabbed a sharp, curved blade and leapt towards me. I whimpered, but the sound was immediately drowned out by at least fifty goblin cheers. Clumsily, the beast with the blade sliced through the ropes that bound my chest – almost severing an artery or two in the process. Eventually, my restraints fell away, but before I could stand, a dozen tiny clawed hands grabbed each of my limbs as I was hauled away from the tree.
“Stop, please!” I squealed, struggling desperately to wriggle out of their grasp. While one goblin might not be a threat, a dozen had the strength of at least two large humans.
After leaving it for far too long, Lukas finally piped up, his strong voice cutting through my screams. “Enough of this,” he said in a tone that was still much too calm for my liking. “Don’t you know who we are? My father will have you executed if he hears how you’re treating royalty.”
Grimlurd tensed. “What was that, o’oman?” He lifted a hand, signalling the goblins around me to stop. They obeyed quickly, letting my limbs drop to the forest floor.
“I said, don’t you know who we are?” Lukas repeated as though he was growing bored. “I am Prince Lukas of Drothmore, and that—” he jerked his chin towards my limp body – “is my fiancée. So unless you want to meet an army of soldiers this time tomorrow, I suggest you let us go.”
Grimlurd howled with laughter, the rest of the goblins joining in with their own cackling hysterics. “You think I care about that, o’oman? You are wumbah!”
So ‘wumbah’ meant fool? Noted.
Ignoring their laughter, Lukas persisted, “Surely you know who my father is? He’s the King. He owns all the mines in Drothmore. That’s more gold than you could possibly ever comprehend.” At the mention of gold, the goblins immediately ceased their laughter and twisted their little bodies towards Lukas, all their beady eyes fixing onto him. “If you let us go, he will make sure that you are rewarded handsomely for your kindness.”
The goblin leader seemed to consider the offer for a moment. He tilted his head, hummed softly, and brought a clawed hand up to scratch his chin.
After some contemplation, Grimlurd answered in a gruff voice, “I no longer have any need for gold… but! Because I am an honourable goblin, I will spare you.” He jabbed a green finger towards Lukas. “But not you.” He then swung his finger towards me.
“No,” Lukas barked. “The King will be furious if you hurt her. She’s a princess. She’s royalty too.”
Grimlurd shook with laughter again. “If she is a princess, then I am a pretty, pretty mermaid!” The other goblins cackled while jumping up and down with vicious glee. “Look at her.” He stomped over and grabbed my arm, plucking me off the floor like I weighed nothing at all. “Look at what she wears.” My muddy cheeks reddened. In the panic, I’d completely forgotten about my revealing faery gown. “She is no princess… You bought her off the streets. That is why you were in the woods, eh?”
I’ll admit the dress was scandalous, but to assume that was a bit of a stretch.
Still gripping my arm, Grimlurd sneered, “A prince sneaking off to have his way with a street lady. Too embarrassed to take her to the palace, hmm?”
“He’s telling the truth. I am a princess,” I growled, trying to break free from his grasp.
“Quiet, street lady. My gobbas are hungry, and you will make a fine dinner.” He dropped my arm without a care, and I landed with a thud on the leaves below us. Once again, before I even had a chance to stand, goblins swarmed over me, hauling me towards the fire.
“Wait a minute!” Lukas shouted, panic settling into his voice. Clearly, this was not going how he planned. “You want dinner? Take me instead.”
“You are wumbah,” Grimlurd chuckled, pausing the goblins who were dragging me away with another lift of his hand. “I do not care who your papa is, but lucky for you, I made a deal with someone who would not be happy if I killed you before she had her chance, so you live… for now.”
Deal? What deal? And who was ‘she’? Even Lukas looked confused.
“Strip her first,” Grimlurd ordered, as my heart nearly leapt from my chest. “No point in cooking the dress when we can use it for rags.”
“No!” I yelled, but my desperate protests were ignored. Goblins leapt onto me. There were so many tiny hands touching me everywhere. It was relentless. Panic surged from my chest, bubbling out as I screamed and slapped the beasts away, but they kept coming. First, the deep purple skirt was torn away in long ribbons. Then, a horrendous rip sounded down my back as the dress tore in half.
“Stop!” Was the last word I heard before a tremendously loud crack boomed from the sky.
A fierce streak of lightning. Followed by the most deafening roll of thunder.