CHAPTER EIGHT
Astaroth
The 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, buildingan 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.”
