The goblin path, p.2
The Goblin Path, page 2
Three days later, just as things were starting to die down, he’d pouring milk all over her lunch when she’d gotten up to through something in the trash. Again, he was the only one nearby who could have been the perpetrator. Again, he denied it.
This went on for the rest of the school year. Every chance he got, he seemed to mess with her. Mostly through childish means, but that since they’d both been basically children, it hadn’t hurt her feelings any less. Sure, tacks in her shoes would have caused more harm than jello physically, but mentally…
Not to mention the fact that no one ever seemed able to catch him in the actual act. Things kept happening, but no matter how often she insisted it was Wren, no one believed her. He’d been Mr.Perfect then too. Everyone loved him.
It wasn’t long before a rumor was spread around that she’d done all those awful things to herself. Because she had a secret crush on Wren and wanted his attention.
As if.
Fortunately, middle schoolers didn’t care about much for long, and after they’d returned from summer break, no one seemed to remember. Especially not Wren, who’d gone from lingering nearby her to ignoring her completely. Which had been fine by her, since that had also meant the pranks stopped. She’d been able to enjoy seventh grade, and every grade since, without bother.
The one and only time they’d even spoken to each other the past few years, it’d been him telling her to get out of his way in the hall when they’d posted the nominees for Home Coming King and Queen.
To be honest, she was still a little bit annoyed that he’d made it on the list—and had later won—because cold, perfect, attractive Wren Woods becoming Home Coming King? What a cliché.
His chestnut colored hair was currently styled off to the side, a look she’d seen him with a few times whenever his father decided to drop him off at school. He was tall, imposing in that way only someone who annoyed you could be. She hated how he’d gone from a gangly sixth grader to the perfectly sculpted Adonis before her.
Karma was clearly dead.
Once Wren’s shock at seeing her wore off, the icy expression that took over his features was also familiar to her. He’d been looking at her like that for a while now, whenever either of them were unfortunate enough to accidentally catch the others eye.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped before she could help it, finally tugging her arm free from the woman so she could plant her fists on her hips. “It’s not like I wanted to dream this nonsense. You being the most nonsensical thing for my mind to think about.”
His brow winged up and he stiffed. “Excuse me?”
“Please,” she absently waved his way, “like I’d have any use for you in a dream or otherwise. You’re such an asshole.”
That was maybe a bit harsh, considering she hated him for something that had happened a couple years ago, but still. Did it matter? None of this was real anyway.
The woman seated in the throne cocked her head. “Wren, you know this human girl?”
“I wouldn’t call being aware of one another’s existence knowing,” he said past clenched teeth, glaring Blair down all the while.
“Did she follow you here, perhaps?” the man sitting on the woman’s other side posed.
“No!” both Blair and Wren denied vehemently at the same time.
“To be clear, I wouldn’t trail after you if you were the last human being on the entire planet,” she stated.
“As if I’d even want you to.” Wren gave a mock shudder, which Blair had to admit, kind of stung a little.
Not that it should, since she’d started the insult lobbing.
“So far, a lot’s been said,” the woman in the throne drew attention back her way. She did not appear to be amused by their banter. “Two things in particular are quite interesting. My son says you’re aware of his existence—”
“That’s not what I meant!” Wren exclaimed, but was swiftly ignored.
“—and now you mention him being a human. These two things seem counter intuitive, considering the first is obviously true, since you’re here.”
Blair frowned, finally able to tear her annoyed gaze off of Wren. This was the weirdest dream ever, and she was having even more of a hard time following it now that she was standing here in front of what had to be royalty of some kind. The thrones were kind of a dead giveaway.
“Why would my mind conjure up all of this though?” she murmured to herself, taking in the details of the woman seated across from her. It was strange, but she had the same brown eyes as Wren, that same piercing gaze that could strip a person down and make them feel less than somehow.
“I believe she thinks she’s dreaming, Aunt,” a new voice came off to the left, and with a start Blair realized most of the others in the room had gone, leaving behind only one other person.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, the boy stepped forward as if to give her a chance to inspect him. He was dressed similarly to the rest, but had on a black turtleneck beneath a shiny leather jacket. When he smiled at her, two dimples appeared on his cheeks and she noted the way his dark bangs covered the high swoops of his eyebrows.
She came close to embarrassing herself, almost whispered the word “damn” but was fortunately saved that by the queen.
“Dreaming?” the woman clucked her tongue. “Interesting theory. That would explain her lack of fear and respect.”
“Ruined my garden,” the smaller woman still standing next to Blair reminded with a heavy nod of her head.
“I’m sorry,” Blair cleared her throat, leaning a little forward in the process as she addressed the boy still currently staring at her, “who are you?”
He laughed, glancing down at his shoes. Once he’d gotten a hold of himself, he walked over to her, hands in his pockets. “My name is Linden Woods. And you are?”
“Blair,” she said. “Wait, Woods? So you’re…” She glanced over at Wren who was now scowling at them both. “What do you mean I think this is a dream?”
It was a stupid thing to ask, because logically, a dream wouldn’t admit to being a dream, would it? But she was pretty certain that was the avenue this was taking, and she was starting to get a bad feeling about it.
She’d never dreamed about Wren before, despite how attractive he admittedly was. Why now? And she’d never seen Linden in the waking world, if she had there was no way she’d forget a face like his. Unless… she supposed she could have seen him in a magazine or something. He might be a model she’d liked that her brain remembered and was using now.
It was plausible, certainly made more sense than the alternative.
“I fell, I hit my head, and I’m probably in some kind of coma now. I’d like you to confirm that please,” she said, noting the hint of hysteria in her voice yet unable to do anything about it.
The corner of Linden’s mouth turned up. “You’re asking me? If I’m part of your dream, won’t I just lie?”
The fact she’d only just thought that herself should have comforted her—because couldn’t that be counted as proof that this was all in her head?—but it didn’t. There was something too real about the way he was smiling, about the sound of the leather jacket crinkling as he moved.
About the smell of dirt and the chilled air, a bit stale.
“Wren.” She didn’t know what she was doing, but instinct had her turning to the one person in all of this she actually recognized. “I apologize for calling you an asshole, please tell me what’s going on.”
What was pride in the face of possibly being buried hundreds of feet underground? Surrounded by…Her gaze slowly slid back over to the old woman at her side.
“What’s going on?” she repeated, a bit more quietly this time, recalling her earlier thoughts about how the woman was most definitely not human.
“Blair,” Wren called her name, but she was too focused on the wrinkles around the woman’s eyes, the way they looked like tree bark lines and not age lines. “Blair.”
She gripped her own wrist, tried to tighten her hold as much as possible, but didn’t even come close to the strength the woman had showed earlier when she’d dragged her all the way here. Across a tiny, impossible town made up of strange little houses filled with even stranger people—creatures.
Were they even people?
“For the love of…” The sound of sneakers hitting the stone floor drew closer, and suddenly Wren was standing in front of her, moving to block her view of the old woman. “Blair, snap out of it already.”
“I’m sorry.” She blinked up at him, saw he was frowning down at her.
“It’s fine.”
“Not for that,” she circled a hand in the air to indicate she meant spacing out, the motion only making her head spin more. She felt herself begin to waver on her feet.
“Then for what?”
“How cliché I’m about to be.” She just managed to get the words past her lips before she lurched forward, losing all control of her legs. She processed his arms banding around her, heard a couple of gasps, and then her vision winked out.
Her last thought was how she couldn’t believe she’d actually turned into one of those girls who fainted into the hot guys’ arms.
* * *
“She’s kind of cute.”
“She is not kind of cute. Are we even looking at the same person?”
“Whatever you say, cousin.”
Blair groaned and reached for her head, not bothering to try and open her eyes just yet. It felt like she’d been hit by a Mack Truck, and the constant bickering around her wasn’t helping any.
“Could you two keep it down?” she said, voice coming out cracked and dry, causing her to wince all over again.
“Here, you should drink this.”
It took her a second to recognize the sound of Linden’s voice, and another few before she was able to gather enough strength to pry her eyes open and blink up at the small cup hovering near her face.
“Here,” Linden repeated, this time moving in closer to help her sit up, easing her carefully back against the headboard of the bed she was somehow lying on. Once she was situated, he brought the cup to her dry lips, carefully tipping it so she could take a few small swallows.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes again for a moment, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she knew was coming, as well as checking herself for aches. It seemed like her head was the only part of her body that hurt, the rest of her was all right.
When she looked at them again, it was to find Linden had respectfully stepped back from the bed and was standing at the foot of it, one hand resting on the corner post. He smiled reassuringly at her when she caught his eye.
Wren was off to the side, just before the door, shoulder propped against the wall, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.
He was glaring at her. Again.
Blair sighed. “Where am I?”
Might as well get all the obvious questions out of the way.
“Hell,” Wren drawled, his words only lacking effect due to the heavy dose of sarcasm. “You fell and died and this is hell.”
“Stop trying to scare her,” Linden tsked, though he was still smiling.
“Does she look scared?”
“Kind of am,” Blair corrected. “Serious answers might help with that, so if we could just get the ball rolling here…”
Wren’s mouth thinned into a straight line.
“Fine. I’ll ask something else. What was the woman from earlier? She wasn’t human, was she?”
“That was Sprocket,” Linden answered. “Tomorrow is market day, and she was planning on bringing fresh crops to sell. Which would be why she’s so angry with you for destroying half of them.”
“It wasn’t half,” Blair began, before cutting herself off. “But, yeah, okay, I did do that. It was an accident.”
“How did you find the entrance?” Wren demanded. “Did you follow me?”
“Let’s keep things in the realm of possibility, deal?” Blair rolled her eyes.
Linden chuckled, lifting a single shoulder in mock innocence when Wren turned that glare on him instead.
“Whatever.” Wren straightened from the wall. “You fell down a goblin hole, into a goblin kingdom, and we’re all goblins. Is that ‘in the realm of possibility’ enough for you?” Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heels and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough the walls shook.
Still, Blair was too busy staring at the empty space he’d once been occupying to realize he was actually gone. It wasn’t until Linden cleared his throat—twice—that she was able to snap herself out of it and turn on him.
“What the hell?” she blurted, partly hoping he was going to tell her all of that had been a joke as well, though she already knew it hadn’t been.
How else did one explain the strange woman—Sprocket—with her overly jointed and crooked fingers and tree bark skin? And Blair had fallen down a hole, which was something she’d never verbally mentioned to them, therefore wasn’t a detail they should be aware of.
She’d passed out, and this most definitely was not a dream, which meant only one thing.
“Goblins are real,” she said, testing the sound of it off on her tongue, only flinching a little at it.
“Nice to meet you.” Linden grinned.
“You don’t look like a goblin though?” When she’d been little, her dad had taken her to the library and shown her all these different picture books on folklores. There’d been colored drawings of sprites, and elves, and fairies, and goblins. She’d never been particularly interested in the latter, her childlike mind attracted to the gossamer wings of the other creatures, and the regal way elves seemed to carry themselves.
The goblins had all been drawn sort of…well, like Sprocket, actually.
“What are goblins supposed to look like?” He tilted his head.
A snort came from the other side of the door, and a second later it swung back open to reveal Wren. “Up until a minute ago, you didn’t even know we existed, and now you think you’re some kind of expert?”
Blair blinked at him. “Were you just…standing out there?”
Linden full on laughed this time, but had the good sense to try, poorly, to cover it up with a round of fake coughing that no one believed. He even went so far as to pound a fist against his chest and send an apologetic look Wren’s way.
“No.” Wren shifted on his feet, cheeks tinging a slight pink that was so out of character it might have been endearing if this whole situation wasn’t more ridiculous and confusing. “I forgot something, that’s all, so I came back.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure she believed him, but whatever. Aside from it being a little odd, picturing him standing outside with his ear pressed against the door, it didn’t really matter either way.
“What did you forget, cousin?” Linden asked, obviously not feeling the same way she did.
“My mother told me to keep an eye on her, remember?” Wren stated, spine straightening some as if in challenge.
In response, Linden held up both hands and kept quiet.
“Are you watching me because I found out you guys are goblins,” Blair tried not to lose it as she spoke, “or because I fainted and you’re super concerned?”
Wren snorted again, which was enough to answer that particular question anyway.
“I didn’t mean to fall down your goblin hole or whatever,” she said. “This is all one big misunderstanding.”
“Tell that to Sprocket,” he crossed his arms, somehow appearing more intimidating than before, “or the king. Or the queen.”
“Those people on the thrones?” Like she’d suspected. “Okay. We have to slow down and go in order here. Goblins are real. You’re both goblins. This is a goblin kingdom. And I’m currently…” she glanced around the spacious, yet mostly empty, room and pursed her bottom lip. “Where am I, exactly?”
There wasn’t really much to give it away. There was the bed she was on, and a single dresser across from it. The walls were empty, and there wasn’t so much as a plant on the windowsill or a throw rug on the bare stone floors to add a pop of color to the otherwise tan blandness of it all.
“This is Wren’s room,” Linden told her.
Which meant she was currently in his bed…
“Oh,” she somehow managed.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Wren said, quickly dashing away some of her momentary embarrassment.
“I wasn’t.” Was it possible to dislike someone more than she did him right now? “I thought you and your dad lived in the city? In that hotel? Oliver even said you threw a party for the soccer team there last year after you won the state tournament.”
He’d even shown her pictures of the penthouse and the view.
“That’s his uncle’s house,” Linden explained before Wren had the chance. “When he’s in the human world, that’s where he stays. His actual father, the king, lives here in the goblin kingdom, along with the queen.”
“Would you shut up,” Wren hissed, taking a threatening step towards him before seeming to think better of it.
“Your mother told us to inform her,” he reminded, “that way there’s less of a chance she’ll be overly curious and cause us trouble. I’m simply following orders.”
“Like hell you are.”
“Can we get back to the information part?” Blair held up a hand to get their attention. “If your parents are the king and queen of this place, doesn’t that make you—”
“He’s the prince here,” Linden said. “I’m his cousin. My parents rule one of the goblin kingdom’s in Europe.”
So, basically he was telling her he was also a prince.
Sure, why not.
“You don’t have an accent,” she noted, deciding to skip over all the royal questions she may or may not feel the need to ask. It didn’t matter if they were princes or the sons of bankers. It wouldn’t change her current situation very much, or the fact she still had to attend high school with one of them.
Which, actually, might be more than half the reason she was taking this as well as she even was.
They weren’t friends, couldn’t even really be considered acquaintances, but she’d known Wren Woods for almost seven years now. That made it kind of hard to shake loose the image of him she’d carried for such a long period of time, even if she was now finding out he wasn’t human.
