For the Love of a Goblin Warrior (Shadowlands) (9 page)

“I’ve nothing else to…” He searched for the right word. “Give.”

The man shrugged and offered him the box of food. There was fruit and bread. Meryn hesitated.

“Go on, have a bite to eat. You’ll feel better.”

Meryn blinked in surprise. This man had been watching him. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been sitting here on the bench all morning. You aren’t fine.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking is easier when you’re not hungry.”

That was true. Everything was easier when the stomach wasn’t making demands. “I can get food.”

The man nodded. “I’d like to talk to someone while I eat, and I feel rude eating when you aren’t.”

Meryn reached over and helped himself to a half sandwich. He didn’t examine it too closely in case that was considered rude. So he took a bite and hoped it tasted all right, or at least better than raw lizard or cooked snake. He swallowed. “Thank you. I’m Meryn”

“Solomon.” Solomon ate another bite.

Meryn ate even though the questions about the marking on Solomon’s hand burned on his tongue. Would it be impolite to ask? Was it a slave marking? A mark of punishment? Finally he gave in. He needed to understand the meaning of the gold cross he’d taken from Nadine.

“What does the…marking…mean?”

Solomon looked at his hand. “To remind me not to lose faith.”

“Faith?” What was Solomon trying to believe in?

“In God.”

Which god? What god had the Roman cross as his symbol? “The cross is punishment?”

Solomon looked at his hand, thoughtful for a moment. “Yes and no. Jesus the son of God died on the cross. But he died for all our sins. When all seems lost, if you have faith, you aren’t alone.”

Meryn had lost faith and hope. He’d lost everything in one night. But instead of having the courage to hold on to something, he’d let go of everything. “I gave up.”

“We all do sometimes. Admitting it, facing up to it, is the true test of character.”

Meryn wanted to believe what this man said, if only because it gave him a slim chance of redemption when he deserved none. He finished the sandwich in silence. Nadine wore the cross as a sign of faith to her god. What would her god say about him stealing it? Would He understand and forgive? “And if I fail?”

“You try again. And again. Because if you stop, you might as well be dead.” Solomon carefully closed the lid on his food box. He looked at Meryn as if he were seeing him anew. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

How could he answer without sounding like a half-wit? “I’m a long way from…home.”

“Where was home?”

“Wales,” Meryn said, hoping that would explain everything that was wrong with him.

“I shall add you to my prayers. I hope you find a new home.”

“Your God will answer?”

Solomon shrugged. “He listens.”

Would any god listen to him when he’d given up his humanity for so long? “Where are you from?”

Solomon smiled. “I was born in Sudan, taken to France as a baby, and came here with my wife to start a new life many years ago. It didn’t go as planned.”

Meryn didn’t recognize any of the places Solomon listed. Had the world been renamed in his absence? Everything he learned revealed ten new things he didn’t know. Would he ever learn everything he needed to survive?

Solomon stood. “I need to get back to work. It’s been nice talking to you, Meryn. I hope you find the answers you need.”

“How shall I repay you?” He couldn’t be in debt when he had nothing.

“God will provide the answer.”

Meryn watched as Solomon walked away. He had fewer answers than before. Perhaps he was going to need his cousins’ help to rejoin the world after all. With the realization sour on his tongue, he got up, knowing that next time Dai came searching for him, they would have to talk. As he walked, his muscles ached from sitting still for too long. He’d spent too long in one place watching people. He would have to make sure he moved around the park so he wasn’t noticed.

Except for in the morning. Then he would wait for Nadine and he would return her symbol of faith. He took the gold out and looked at it again, this time with a new understanding about the man carved on its surface. He’d died for everyone’s sins. Meryn’s included even though he didn’t know this God? Had Solomon’s God forgiven Meryn already for failing his wife and children, his king and tribe, for stealing? Even if He had, would Nadine?

Did he forgive himself?

Chapter 6

Nadine lay on her side watching the tree in the backyard sway in the breeze. She should’ve fallen asleep as soon as she’d climbed into bed. Instead, she was almost excited after seeing Meryn in the park. She’d smiled all the way to the train station and then all the way home. The shimmer of tension remained in her stomach like butterflies bumping around in the hope of escape.

She closed her eyes, determined to sleep and not think about Meryn. Would he be there tomorrow?

If he was, what would she do?

She raked her teeth over her lip as she thought. She should avoid him. He was a sword-wielding, mysterious-stranger who’d been delivered to the hospital by the cops. And then there was the nightmare in the hospital. She frowned. What was causing him to wake up so violently, fists ready for a fight?

Were his dreams as dark as hers?

After her mother’s murder, she’d stopped speaking. She hadn’t said a word for six months in any of the three languages she knew. The psychiatrists said it was normal for a traumatized child. Maybe it was. Maybe it was her way of burying everything she’d seen, except for when she slept and she’d wake screaming silently, unable to remember what had troubled her. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be spoken aloud.

But Meryn had spoken English today. Not a lot. Her frown deepened and drew her eyebrows and lips into the scowl. Why forget English but remember Latin? What had happened to him that was so bad he’d wanted to forget?

She knew that if she saw him again she needed to find out—even if that meant sharing her past. And precious few people knew the truth about her family because she didn’t want to be judged by her father’s crime. But Meryn was different. Very different.

Once
again
she
walked
the
corridors
of
the
castle
she’d built in her mind as a child. A dress of ice green trimmed in gold swept the floor with each step. Years of stories and imagination had filled its stone walls with tapestries and paintings, candelabras and elegant furniture. It was here she’d escaped to when she couldn’t sleep. Here she’d hidden from the world. In her castle, anything was possible and reality became the dream. Today she was alone. There was no ball, no servants, no imaginary parents doting on her.

Nadine’s footsteps echoed, flat and heavy, as she wandered through the great hall and up the stairs. When she called out, her voice echoed through the castle. And no one came. That wasn’t right. This was her dream and it should obey her will. Her steps became faster as she searched for a way out, but there were no doors. She ran to the window and peered out. The walled garden where she sat with her mother listening to stories was barren land. Gone were the shrubs, flowers, and statues. They’d been replaced with gray dust. Her breath caught in her throat. It was all gone. Beyond the glass pane was a wasteland of gray, flat nothingness.

Her
dream
was
deconstructing, going back to the emptiness it had come from. She placed her palm on the glass. It was cold, as if no sun had ever touched its surface. She sighed and her breath clouded on the glass as the temperature dropped.

The
howls
and
cries
that
always
haunted
her
dreams
drew
closer. She’d always known creatures hid beyond the walls of the palace garden. But she’d always been safe in her castle. Now? Was it safe to hide here when it was changing by itself, unraveling and twisting as if she no longer had any control over the dream?

Without
a
door, how could she leave?

Something
moved
in
the
gray
beyond
the
walls; she pressed her nose to the glass to try to see what was out there, moving in the dust and empty twilight. The shapes became figures, closing in on the castle. A glint of gold caught her eye. It was outside on the windowsill. She glanced back at the creatures. They were coming for the gold. Her fingers scrabbled around the window frame for a latch, but there wasn’t one. She couldn’t get the window open. She ran to the next one, but a gold coin rested there as well.

Her
heartbeat
raced, as if she were sprinting. She stepped back from the window, her dress now faded as if it had been washed too many times. The tapestry to her left had lost the bright colors she had given it. The gray was breaching the walls. How long until the creatures reached the castle and claimed the gold?

Why
was
no
one
coming
to
save
her? Where was her knight in shining armor to fight off the monsters?

A
face
appeared
at
the
window.

Golden
orbs
for
eyes, mottled gray skin, a hooked nose, and long pointed ears. A goblin.

Nadine
screamed
and
the
glass
shattered.

She jolted awake, her heart straining to break free of her body, and sat up. Her bedroom door swung open and she yelped again.

“Geez, I thought you were being killed.” Gina stood in the doorway in one of her fiancé’s T-shirts that was doubling as a very short nightie.

Nadine pressed her hand to her chest as if she could slow the pounding of her blood. It took another two breaths before she could ground herself back in reality and escape the very real clutches of her nightmare. Never had it been so real…or so terrifying. Her castle had always been her sanctuary. Her dream space was unraveling and she’d been helpless to stop the destruction.

She swallowed down the sticky fear still lodged in her throat. “Just a nightmare.” The words didn’t come out as carefree as she’d intended.

“They’re back?” Gina’s forehead creased in concern.

Nadine nodded. Most of the time she was fine. Around the winter solstice she got twitchy, but it usually faded shortly after. This year, her nightmares continued to haunt her.

She blamed her father’s release. When he was in jail, the dreams never had that much power and she’d always been able to escape to the castle and hide. But it was no longer safe; it was in the Shadowlands now. It felt like she’d lost another piece of herself and her mother.

Gina sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug. She was one of the few people who knew her family’s murderous secret.

“This got something to do with your father?”

She was tempted to say no, but how would she explain the Shadowlands and goblins to Gina? They were her mother’s stories. Most people had never even heard of the fairy tale of
Le
roi
des
gobelins
. It was an obscure story, lost in history. She had no idea how her mother had even found it or why it had been her favorite. It was easier to agree with Gina and blame her father.

“I thought I was okay. I mean, I knew he’d get out one day.” She shrugged. One day had always been far away, then it had arrived and passed with little fanfare. Or so she’d believed. Obviously it had cut her deeper than she’d thought; only now she couldn’t find the wound to stop the blood. She inhaled deeply and tried to force calm. “He sent me a letter.”

That terrified her. What did he expect from the daughter he’d abandoned twenty years ago? Why couldn’t he just walk away like she had? She’d never encouraged any contact. She didn’t know what to say to him…if anything. Would he answer if she asked why? Did she really want to know?

“What did the letter say?”

“Dunno.”

“Sweetie, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You should read them. He’s the only father you’ve got.”