The Goblin's Crown

Chapter Seventy Three: I am Here

"Are you okay? I didn't burn you, did I?" He asked." Lysander backed up beside me, watching the encroaching hoard of his father's twisted ghosts. As quickly as they died they were either reformed or replaced. Now I knew what it was like to fight goblins.

"Ib?" I eased off of Ib, discreetly looking him over as I did.

"A little singed, but otherwise fine," Ib replied, brushing ashes from his white hair. The fire had indeed taken off a little of its length and there was a small streak of red across his cheek and ear, but there was nothing time and maybe a tonic wouldn't cure.

"I'm sorry about that, but I managed to clear you a path." He nodded down the opposite end of the hall where he had focused his flames to burn away the Oberons that blocked our way to Knut's cell. "Go to him. Leave these...things to me. I'll keep them off of you while you save Knut. Then we'll all hunt Mab down together."

Ib didn't need to hear another word. He scrambled from away from us and shot for the cell door. He pounded his shoulder against it in a desperate attempt to force his way inside.

I moved to help him, but found myself turning my head back to look at the lone Seelie facing off alone against an army."Are you sure about this?" I asked, noting the silver blood wetting his feathers and pouring from a nasty bite wound on his shoulder.

Lysander rolled his shoulders. "I'm certain. Don't worry about me. Once you're safely out of the way, I'll really get to let myself go." Lysander's usual scowl tugged into a slight smirk. "I've always wanted to kill my father. Now I'm finally getting my wish. Ten thousand fold."

I felt his power weave around me, as palpable as another living being. It slammed against the cell door, splintering it. Lowering his arms from his face, Ib ran inside, gasping Knut's name.

"Thank you." I breathed. I moved to turn away, to bolt into Knut's cell, but Lysander's hand suddenly pressed against the small of my back, pulling me against him. Raising up my helm with his free hand, his lips brushed against my cheek dangerously close to my mouth.

I slapped him as hard as I could. "Touch me again and I will rip your bloody guts out." I hissed, baring my teeth.

Despite the red, angry hand shaped welt forming on his face, Lysander's smirk only grew. "I hope Knut knows how lucky he is to have a woman as capable as you at his side. If he doesn't, I'd be happy to remind him. Good luck. I pray you'll be safe..." His stormy eyes flicked down towards my belly. "And that we'll meet again." He said. However, he seemed to have started to say something else entirely.

His hand fell away from my back and I ran. I did not look back, but I could hear the garbled voices of the throng, muttering their cruel words at Lysander as they pressed in. I felt the heat of Lysander's fire upon my spine as his power exploded outwards. It licked across my skin as if the armor were not there, a gentle caress along my skin. My cheek still felt strange where he'd kissed me. Wrong. Dirty. I longed for soap and water, more so to wash away his kiss than the blood caking my skin.

I ran into Knut's cell, but my first sight of what lay within turned my muscles to stone. My strides became a slow shuffling as I stared at the...the wraith hanging from heavy iron chains at the center of the room.

Knut had always been thin, but now...now he could only be called emaciated. Flesh clung to his every bone and his filthy skin was covered in awful bruises and cuts, the iron and exhaustion slowing his healing. His head hung lifelessly, his matted hair covering his face. A dagger was still stuck in his side. Blood flowed out, bathing him in crimson and puddling around his toes that barely grazed the floor.

Ib held Knut's face between shaking hands, lifting his face so that I saw the true horror of what they'd done. His eyelids were closed, but one side looked misshapen without an eye beneath it. Around the socket were dark bruises and blood crusted black all down his cheek and onto his chest. Ib pat his cheek, and pressed his ear to Knut's chest, his movements frantic. "I think he's... I think he's..." He never finished that sentence. A gasping, shuttering sob kept cutting him off. "What are you doing?" He screamed at me as I shuffled towards them, my steps slowing even further. I wanted to stop, wanted to go back into the hall and help Lysander kill the creatures outside the door, anything but get any closer to Knut....to his cold, dead body.