Heart Of The Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 1) Page 10

  “Well, perhaps not dragon,” Drake interrupted.

  They shared a wry grin. “No, maybe not the dragons. But generally, for a man to be ready to die, he’s been told something very powerful, something that goes bone deep.”

  “I agree. The question is, what did he tell them, and for that matter, how do we find him?”

  “We must send emissaries among the villages. Go out beyond the reach of the castle, beyond a day’s travel. Those at the outskirts of the kingdom are not as directly affected by the affairs of the castle and might be persuaded to rebel.”

  “Again, it comes around to why? Even those who are several days’ journey over land have always been treated well by you.”

  Brennan didn’t answer. He had seen what a shoddy leader had done. The fae who’d been king before him had cared nothing for the subjects he ruled. A distant cousin, he’d taken the throne as a stepping stone to try and oust Brennan’s father from the Fae throne.

  It hadn’t worked. The former king had lost his life, courtesy of an axe. Brennan had already been declared the heir, but he’d taken the throne earlier than planned because his father didn’t want anyone other than close family to act as regent. It had been, at the time, a volatile situation.

  “Do you think he could be somehow related to the former king? There had to have been those who supported him, and were angered at his removal and death.”

  “Then perhaps they shouldn’t have backed a poor ruler who was nothing more than a selfish child,” Drake didn’t hesitate in his response.

  “That’s all well and good, but you must be more realistic, Drake. You know the politics that swirl round all the courts, and my father’s is no exception. There are those who bear the name of our family who would end us in a moment if they could get away with it.”

  Reluctantly, Drake nodded. “It’s possible. Hell,” he swore softly. “It’s the best reason we have at the moment. Until we find a goblin willing to talk, it will have to do.”

  “Where are they?” Brennan turned round. It was taking longer than he liked. He would not leave the clearing, however, until all his fallen people had been removed, and returned to the castle for burial.

  Regardless of the fact that they had attacked him, he would see them cared for.

  His steward approached. “Majesty, we have help.”

  “Good.” Brennan crossed his arms. He could feel his face tighten and an iron band squeeze round his heart as a line of goblins trooped by. “Carefully collect all of them. When you return to the castle, wrap all of them for burial after they have all been identified and their clans notified.”

  The steward nodded, and moved away, head down.

  In spite of the many beings in the clearing, no noise broke the silence. Brennan could hear the small clanking of weapons and armor and the many decorative items goblins loved to wear. Other than that, no sounds came through to distract from the somber task. Not even the birds sang.

  At long last, the steward approached again. “That is the last of them, Majesty. We have them all.”

  “Let us be gone, then.” He stalked forward. Watching the fallen being carried away had created an anger that by now had reached nearly a boiling point.

  Drake kept pace with him as he walked towards the portal, and he stood aside to allow Bronoor and Drake to pass.

  “Brennan, let us go.”

  “Go, Drake.” His tone brooked no discussion. Drake turned and followed the steward.

  Brennan cast another look around the clearing. It lay empty. It would never be a waypoint for them again. The times he and Drake spent there together, as one of their favorite spots during travel were a distant memory replaced by the vision of the bodies of his fallen people. He would have a stone placed here to remember them.

  Angrily, he whirled and went through the portal, snapping it closed behind him. The immediate response of the portal to his magic made him smile ruefully. It always seemed to be more effective and work better when he had a base of anger behind it. One more reason to keep his temper. The thought of what his anger could do with magic was something he didn’t want to contemplate.

  It was, he realized, where the problem lay with the human girl, Iris.

  She threatened his calm. As when he’d felt anger at Taranath touching her hand, at Drake holding her. He didn’t like the potential loss of control. He’d seen what happened, and knew the histories, of fae who chose not to exercise control over their emotions. To say nothing of his own personal history.

  As much as he’d replayed Drake’s words regarding Iris in his head, he knew it a better thing to marry Ailla and keep himself under a tight reign. Better for him and all those who were around him.

  He dismissed thoughts of the human from his mind, even though a part of him wanted to go over all their interaction again. To contemplate the difference between his own six hundred seventy-four years of age and whatever young age she was.

  He had no time for that, however. He needed to see his father, to see who the allies of the former Goblin King might be. If any were still living, and if so, would they still be willing to act.

  Much better than thoughts of a human girl who flitted through his head.

  Chapter Ten

  Iris

  As I moved towards them wanting to stop the light that traveled down Taranath’s arm from reaching my mom, my father pushed me back.

  That movement rippled through the three fae, and Taranath fell back.

  “Iris! What are you doing?” Nerida demanded.

  “Don’t talk to my granddaughter like that!” Mara was having none of Nerida’s anything.

  “Both of you stop,” Dad said quietly. “Iris, are you okay?”

  I looked at Mom. Something had gone out of her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I watched the glow going down his arm, and I needed to stop it.” Tears fell down my cheeks, and I knelt next to Mom. “I’m sorry.” I put my head down, ashamed. I didn’t want to look at anyone.

  “It’s all right, Iris.” I felt a hand on my head as Mara spoke. It must have been her hand. I felt something pass from her to me. I felt slightly less suicidal than I had mere seconds before, like maybe I hadn’t just doomed my mom.

  “Why did you feel the need to stop me?”

  I looked up to answer Taranath. “I don’t know. It was very strong, an urge I couldn’t control.”

  He nodded, looking like the scientist again. “How interesting. Your fae is very strong and very protective.”

  “What does that mean? And can you still save her?” I looked from my mom to the three fae, who were all grouped around her.

  One of them—I couldn’t remember which one—had said that fae felt better when among their own kind when they were in other realms. Maybe they all felt the need to be close because all three of them, Nerida, Mara, and Taranath, had huddled close to Mom when I wasn’t looking. Mara held her hand, and Nerida had her hands on Mara’s shoulders. Much like when Taranath had been focusing on getting here earlier, I realized. They drew strength from one another.

  Mom looked better. I know that sounds stupid given the fact that cancer had wasted her to a shadow of herself.

  But she had color in her cheeks. Her eyes were more alert, not the bright shine they often had when she was taking morphine.

  I felt the tears spring to my eyes and spill over. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how hard I had pinned my hopes on the fae being able to help her.

  I dashed at my eyes and looked for Dad. I knew he couldn’t be comfortable with this. Not only because his daughter and two weirdly dressed people had fallen into his living room, but because his mother-in-law, who’d turned her back on his wife and her entire family sat there, holding Mom’s hand as though they hadn’t spent twenty years apart.

  I moved to him and took his hand. “You okay?” I asked quietly. I still felt guilty, and I needed to be reassured.

  He nodded with short, tight movements. He crossed his arms and exhaled.

  “
It’s not easy seeing her here,” he gestured towards Mara. “I think I might be in some kind of shock as well. I haven’t grounded you to within an inch of your life.” The ghost of humor hovered around his eyes.

  I gave him a smile with no ghosts. “We’re a little beyond that now, don’t you think? Dad, is it me, or does she look better?”

  “I think we want her to look better,” he didn’t hesitate in his response. “I understand that you don’t want her to leave us, but I don’t think anything will change that.”

  “Don’t say that,” I whispered. “Please don’t say that.” I let go of his hand and covered my mouth with my hand. I had to, or I would have screamed at him, screamed horrible things at him. His acceptance of this, his refusal to take the offering of hope I’d brought, made me want to scream until he hurt as badly as I did. Even though I knew he did.

  “Honey,” he put his arms around me, even as I stayed facing away from him. “I want to hope more than anyone. I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t want to entertain some kind of fairy tale.”

  I looked at him then, eyes wide. “Don’t let them hear you say that. They get kind of pissy when you call them fairies.”

  “What the hell is this?” He whispered.

  “Can I tell you later? It’s a little complex, and I’d rather not do it right now.”

  I thanked the fact that we’d lived together for so long in confined quarters where you had to be able to trust your crew. He gave me that trust, no questions asked.

  “We can wait until the circus leaves, then.” He didn’t bother to lower her voice on that one.

  Mara turned around and glared.

  “We are not the circus, and I am not leaving my daughter.”

  Dad pushed himself off the table he’d been leaning on. “Really? Because you have such a great record of being there in the tough times?” His voice didn’t raise, but the anger came across clearly.

  “Paul, it’s all right. Mother, do not agitate my husband. He’s been the best man in the world to me, just as I knew he’d be. You were wrong about him, and us. You need to admit it so we can move on.”

  Everyone turned to stare at Mom. Her voice sounded stronger than it had in months, and she looked between Dad and Mara.

  Neither spoke. I guessed that they were as surprised as I was.

  Mara sighed, a sigh that spoke of being greatly put upon. Maybe it was better I hadn’t known her growing up. She seemed very formal, more like Nerida than my fun-loving and huggy mom. She didn’t seem like she would have been a comfortable, squishy grandmother. No cookies baked by her—they’d be served on a silver tray with a teapot and eaten with only the very best manners.

  The image made me want to giggle, and I covered my mouth again to stop it.

  “I was wrong, Paul Mattingly. I believe my daughter when she states you have been a good man, and your home shows the signs of a happy and successful family. Much better than the boat.”

  What? “That we still have and were out on recently,” I spoke up. She wasn’t going to get away with a half-assed apology like that. “That boat was our home and still is. We’re only here because Mom needed treatment. I would have cheerfully lived on the boat while going to school. This—” I gestured around scornfully, stepping closer to Mara, “is not ours, and honestly, it’s a big waste of space, in my opinion. It’s not material crap that makes a family happy and successful.” I rolled my eyes to emphasize my scorn, and crossed my arms, glaring.

  Mara didn’t say anything. I heard a little gasp and though vaguely it must’ve come from Nerida. Maybe fae kids didn’t tell their parents when they were being asshats. Too bad.

  Then Mara looked at Mom, and they both started to laugh.

  “She is all you, isn’t she?” Mara asked quietly. I glared more, and then lost my anger when I saw what looked like the glint of tears in her eyes.

  She looked at me again. Yep. Tears. “Your mother looked just like that when she told me she was going to marry your father.”

  “And what a smart move that was.” I wasn’t giving an inch.

  Dad came up behind me and put his arm around me, squeezing a shoulder. He planted a kiss on the side of my head.

  “She doesn’t take crap from anyone, Mara.”

  Mara turned that gaze of hers to Dad, and a smile almost turned up the corners of her mouth. “It seems she is a great deal like both of her parents.”

  Dad gave her a nod, and I felt his fingers tighten briefly on my shoulder before letting his arm drop.

  “What is it you think you can do for Claire?”

  Thankfully my dad decided to gloss over the fact that I had screwed up the first try.

  Nerida, who had a decided look of relief on her face—didn’t she ever have clashes with either one of those boys of hers? Finally spoke.

  “How are you feeling, Claire?”

  “Better,” Mom said. “Like I’ve had a big dose of morphine, but without the cloudiness of the morphine.” She smiled at me, and I felt my shoulders relax.

  “That is the effect of being among us,” Taranath said calmly. “You’ll feel it as long as you are with us.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to take Mom to your realm?” I asked.

  He shook his head before anyone else could reply. “No. Even though Claire is half fae, with her illness, she is weak, and the effect of Fae on her human side would kill her.”

  I felt the blood rush from my face and fall somewhere into my shoes.

  “How are you going to make her better?” I whispered. “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

  Nerida let go of Mara’s shoulders, and took the two steps towards me. “There is no guarantee that we can help, Iris. You knew that.”

  Her calm, matter-of-fact tone made me want to slap it right off her face.

  “Then why the hell did you come here? To find your old friend? You used my mom and my hope to get what you wanted? Thanks for nothing! Selfish cow!” I screamed the last word at her and ran from the room.

  I could hear the burst of talk erupt after I left, but I kept going.

  I ran out the front door and around the side of the house to the carport. My bike leaned against the side of the house, and with blurred vision, I yanked it upright and threw myself on it.

  It wasn’t far to the marina. That had been one thing we’d all agreed on when we decided to move ashore. We’d live somewhere close to the marina where we docked Sorcha.

  That bitch, I thought angrily. Say whatever to your face, but when the truth came out, it was about what they wanted.

  I pedaled harder, wanting to erase the sight of my mom’s face, and all the hope I’d been carrying. No wonder my mom wanted nothing to do with them. Even without knowing about the fae side of things. Even Mara, who didn’t seem all that warm or cuddly, abandoned them. The fae were not a kind race. No wonder someone wanted to kill Brennan.

  Maybe when I finally went home, they’d all be gone, and leave me, Dad, and Mom to ourselves.

  To pick up the broken hope and go on as best we could.

  I could forgive a lot of things, but the raised hope just so Nerida could reach her goal—I didn’t think I could forgive that. Part of me knew I spoke in anger, and really wasn’t being fair, but I didn’t care. I had no hope left. My mom would still leave me.

  I hoped like hell they’d be gone when I finally went home.

  Brennan

  He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his father to appear. He used the family mirror, so Jharak would know to take the mirror to a private setting. While the day shone brightly, the arrival of the bodies of the fallen goblins cast a gloom over his castle and made him impatient. He needed to get to the root of this, and as quickly as possible. He had no proof of this, but he’d learned to trust his instinct over the years.

  Glynan came in, clearing her throat.

  He held up a hand after glancing briefly at her. “I cannot be disturbed at this time. I am waiting for the Fae King.”

  “B
ut Majesty,” she squeaked. “The Lady Ailla is here!”

  That broke his concentration.

  “What do you mean, she’s here?”

  “She came through the throne room portal asking to see you immediately.”

  Brennan ran his hand through his hair, wanting to yank it out. Her timing could not be worse. He didn’t have the time or desire to go over wedding details. He couldn’t even pawn it off on his mother, as she’d run off with the mage and Iris—his mind shied away from further thoughts of her—the moment his back turned.

  He groaned. “There is some sort of conspiracy, isn’t there?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Wonderful, he thought. Just perfect that his father appeared in the mirror at that moment.

  “Father, give me a moment, please.” He didn’t allow Jharak to reply but turned the mirror down and spoke to Glynan.

  “Bring her to the queen’s quarters and offer her refreshment. Give her my apologies, and let her know I am in the middle of matters of the kingdom, but will wait upon her as soon as I am able.”

  Glynan hurried from the room. It occurred to Brennan that she seemed afraid of his bride. To his knowledge, Ailla had never given any of the goblins reason for fear, other than the fearsome reputation the Dragon Realm carried. No one ever wanted to make them angry. They did, after all, have a special relationship with the dragons of the realm.

  He picked up the mirror again.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, Father.”

  “Why is Ailla there? And where is your mother?”

  Jharak sounded as frustrated as Brennan felt. “And why are you so cold to your intended?”

  “Father! Your part in my marriage negotiations is at an end. The bargain has been struck, and the marriage is now in my hands. That is not what I wanted to speak with you about.”

  “Very well. Where is your mother?”

  “Off on one of her missions,” Brennan ground out. Would no one cooperate today?