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He turned to face me again, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Things that are better left undisturbed,” he said cryptically. “Trust me, Serra. You don't want to know.”
I couldn't help but feel frustrated at his response. How could I trust him when he was withholding something from me? But at the same time, I couldn't deny the sense of danger that lurked in the air. I knew I needed to leave, to keep moving forward and away from whatever he meant. I glanced back at the cave, my thoughts consumed by the danger within. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm, causing me to jump in surprise. I turned to face the Goblin King, who was now standing beside me.
“Not everything stays in the dark. You are neither safe nor protected here from what lives within. Do not say I did not warn you. Three days left, Serra.”
His hand still rested on my arm, and I felt a warmth spread through me at his touch. It was a feeling I had denied ever existed, but now it was impossible to ignore. I opened my mouth to speak, to say something to him, but the words caught in my throat. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.
With a deep breath, I turned and started walking away, my mind racing with thoughts and questions. But as I walked, I couldn't shake the feeling of regret that settled in my heart. Regret for leaving Hendrix behind, regret for not pushing the Goblin King for more answers, and regret for not being strong enough to do this on my own.
ChapterSixteen
SERRA
The fear that had gripped me after the Goblin King's words was a suffocating weight on my senses. It sliced through me like a steel blade, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed. The thought of something far scarier lurking within the dark depths of those caves was enough to send shivers down my spine. I knew I had to keep moving, to put as much distance between myself and that eerie cave entrance as possible. There were only three days left to reach the castle, and I couldn't afford to waste any time. I wouldn't stick around long enough to see if Hendrix or the Goblin King would make it out alive.
With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I darted down the hillside and into the darkness. My heart was racing, and my legs were carrying me as fast as they could. I couldn't shake the feeling of concern that had lodged itself firmly in my chest. Despite my better judgment, I glanced back at the cave entrance once. It remained dark and ominous, as if concealing something sinister within its depths.
It wasn't until I reached the edge of a trickling waterfall that I allowed myself to stop. Or what remained of the waterfall, it was closer to a small babbling brook that cascaded over rocks, rather than a cascade of water. The rocks were no taller than me, and the water dribbled down in a slow, steady stream. I was grateful for the water, which was enough to clean the dirt off my hands and face and remove the crusted blood from my nails from the cliff. I took a long drink, cupping my hands to catch the water and bringing it to my lips.
The water was oddly sweet and crisp, and I drank until my stomach was no longer grumbling. But the lack of food around the glen was disconcerting. I had not seen one berry bush, fruit tree, edible grass, or herbs. Everything around me was dead or dying. My stomach grumbled in protest, but the cool water from the fall would have to be enough for now. At least until I found something that was edible and not dead.
When I had my fill, I glanced around the glen. It was quiet, and the only sounds were the trickle of the water and my own breathing. The absence of crickets and owls was unsettling, so unlike the nights in Rothnia, where their chirping and hooting had been a comforting lullaby that put me to sleep. Here, in this strange and desolate place, I felt alone and vulnerable. Even the cool water couldn't wash away the fear that lingered deep within me.
My heart raced with the memory of my nightmares, the same ones that had plagued me every night. Every night, I woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for air. The fear never left me, and it followed me wherever I went. Even now, as I sat by the babbling brook, the sound of the water couldn't drown out the sound of my racing heart.
The memories of fire, heat, and shouts caused me to shudder involuntarily. It was a nightmare that visited me every night, a relentless reminder of the horrors I had heard. But last night, for the first time in what felt like forever, the nightmare had not surfaced. I had been granted a moment of peace, a brief respite from the terrors that plagued me. The dream of the Goblin King had been a strange relief, an unexpected diversion from my usual torment. I couldn't help but wonder about the motive behind leading me to the Caves of Desire. Was it Jesper's doing, or was it something more sinister? A chill ran down my spine as I considered the possibility that the furry creature may have been working with the Goblin King all along.
As I sat there, sleep called to me once again. The gentle lullaby of the water hitting the rocks, the cool breeze that kissed my face, and the sense of safety that enveloped me were all too enticing to ignore. The glen I found myself in was a peaceful haven, tucked away in an alcove of paper birch trees and rock. From the top of the cliff at the edge of the Ebony Woods, the land had looked barren and lifeless. But down on the ground, it was a different story. The land was complex, as if under a spell or enchantment that made it seem like it was trying to keep people away.
Despite its dying state, the land still seemed to be fighting for survival. It was a small victory in a world full of chaos and destruction. And as I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the water and the cool breeze lull me to sleep, I couldn't help but hope that the land would continue to fight and thrive, even in the face of overwhelming darkness.
I heard the cries in my head as I drifted off to sleep. The image surged forward, unable to stop it from playing. A darkened room, lit only by moonlight, the fire in the hearth having gone out long ago, but the ashes gave off a rich glow. Everything starts coming clearer, the drapery and wood of a four-poster bed, the moon outside casting its soft glow on the blankets and rug.
The cries echo in my head again.
The cry of a woman rang again through the halls as the maids and nurses scurried past her door. It had been left open a crack, so she could call for them if the nightmares plagued her. The nightmares that always visited her in the dark. The ones that had her rushing from her bed into that of her parents.
But on that night, the screams and cries of her mother echoed down to her instead. Something wasn’t right, something was wrong with her.Someone had peaked in once to check on her, but she had pretended to be asleep. Pulling the door shut behind them as they left. Her mother’s cries echoed again as a set of feet ran past her door, she couldn’t take it anymore.
Sliding from under the sheets she went to the door and pulled it open. The hallway was a flurry of motion. Nurses running back and forth, soiled and clean towels passed between them, looks of pure distress and panic. Their faces were stained with tears.
A man with long dark hair stood in the hall, watching. Dressed in a dark suit and black cloak. He was not someone she was fond of, this man scared her. This man was a stranger to her, but she knew what he could do. His dark eyes found her as the door to her room creaked open. He left his post as he approached her.
“Go back to bed.” His voice was chilling.
Her voice was quiet as she spoke, “But momma. . .”
“Your mother is fine. Go back to bed.”
She did as she was told, climbing back into bed as the man watched her. His voice sent a wave of terror down her, a feral grin on his lips as he said, “Good night, young princess.”
Closing her door, washing her room in a blanket of darkness, the hoot of an owl outside her window drew her attention. Sleep barely held its grip on her as the agonizing screams and sobs of her mother echoed down the hall. By morning the news would circulate that the new babe had not survived.
My gasping breaths pulled me back to consciousness, my chest heaving as I struggled to draw in enough air. The dream had been all too vivid, the cries of the woman still echoing in my mind- her despair and agony piercing my heart. The little girl in the dream had been so young, yet aware of the horror unfolding before her. The weight of her fear and sadness settled heavily in my chest, mingling with my own emotions until it was hard to distinguish between them.
I rubbed my bleary eyes, trying to shake off the fog of sleep and make sense of it all, but it was no use. The glen around me was peaceful, the birch trees swaying gently in the cool breeze, the water trickling in a soothing melody. Dawn was approaching, but it brought no relief to my restless soul.
I couldn't remember the last time I felt truly rested. The last two dreams had left me feeling drained and unsettled, but I had to keep going. There was a path before me, and I had to face whatever lay ahead.
