Tears dripped onto the ancient map beneath me, onto the burned carvings of twisted roots, the image marking the location of my nest, the place I and my family were supposed to feel safest. Even that, the Seelie lords had taken from me. My sense of safety in my own home.
I woke from nightmares, my hands reaching for Knut to find comfort just in knowing that it was him beside me and not Lysander. I stared with wide eyes around the cavernous room waiting for the earthen walls and floor to turn to open sky and polished marble. Even then, I was unconvinced. Just like in nights before, I went around to each of my sons' beds and leaned over them to listen to them breathing and laid my hands on their chests to feel their heartbeats.
Now, hours since, the overwhelming feeling of dread still held my guts in its claws. I'd come to Knut's office, hoping that work would help to settle me, but instead, it was as if my mind took it as the perfect opportunity to completely collapse in on itself. I sobbed helplessly at Knut's desk, burying my face in my hands. With only the crackling of the fire to drone out the silence and my own heaving, I could still hear Lysander's low voice in my ears, promising my children's deaths and the roar of a river of blood sweeping through my city's golden streets.
We'd set our departure for the next day. It would be my final night at home and now I was second guessing even going. A part of me, the shattered, painfully raw part, wished only to barricade myself inside our palace and hold my sons for as long as The Hollow allowed me. It wanted to forget revenge, let Lysander live if only to avoid returning to the place where I'd been torn down to my bones. I had never in my life felt so full of fear, not even when I fought Mab or I knew that Magni was going to die. I took solace in knowing that my hatred was greater even than this raging fear. My cowardice was trying to beat it, but I knew it would never win.
My hatred for Lysander and his kin was just too great and terrible a thing, as endless and unfathomably powerful as The End himself.
Still...I sobbed...I wept...mourning the breaking of the next dawn when I'd have to say goodbye to my children for what felt to me as permanent a farewell as the one on their coronation day would be...if I lived to see it.
I jumped at the sound of a heavy book slamming onto the floor and jumped from my chair so suddenly it shrieked in protest as it was shoved back across the floor.
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone was here. I did knock." Ib said, quickly snatching the book up from the ground where he'd dropped it. He was dressed in his nightshirt and pair of breeches he'd hastily pulled on beneath it.
"Why are you here?" I hissed, shrinking from the firelight and bowing my head so my hair veiled my red-rimmed eyes, my tear streaked cheeks.
"Couldn't sleep. I thought I might find something heavy enough to knock myself out with," his lips pulled up in one corner in a small smirk as he weighed the thick book in one hand. "Or at least something interesting to read to pass the time, but alas Knut doesn't seem to have any smut in his collection."
"He does. I just made him hide it where the boys can't find it." I tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow and wrong. I pulled Knut's chair back to me and sank back down in it. My body felt so heavy...like The End was curled around my shoulders. "Just grab something and go." I jabbed a finger toward him. "And don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone."
His handsome violet eyes accessed me and quickly filled with pity. "You're not doing as well as you've let on, are you?" Instead of leaving, he dragged up a high backed chair and sat beside me where The Boughs bled into The Winter Branches on the map.
"I told you to leave."
"I know. I'm ignoring you." He leaned forward, resting his cheek on his knuckles. "Does Knut know you come here to cry your heart out?"
I clenched my jaw, feeling my cheeks warm with shame. "I don't always come here. Sometimes, it's one of the sitting rooms or our personal chambers or The Hollow's forest. Depends on how bad it is." I swallowed, looking down at the map, at The Roots again. "Knut knows I'm...struggling with Magni's death. I have not hidden that from him if that is what you're accusing me of."
"I'm not accusing you of anything. However, I do think this is about more than just Magni. Do you want to talk about it? I'm...concerned about you, honestly."
"Let us not play pretend, Ib. We all know I'm not your favorite person."
"No, but you are Knut's." He said, his throat bobbed as he swallowed his envy. "And you saved Bran. He told me what you did for him. I know you did it for your own reasons, but-"
"For my own reasons..." I mimicked, hating how disgusting those words tasted on my tongue. "Even when I do something good, I'm accused of being selfish." I chuckled, smiling a smile that could curdle milk. "Is it that unbelievable that I'm capable of being nice?"
"Bran is your least favorite person. You wanted to kill him after The Upheaval, as I recall."
"I still want to kill him. There is a monster living in him and I am not just talking about The End. He remains Mab's son and I am sitting in her stolen throne, his stolen throne. Killing him would save me a lot of grief, but I choose not to." I growled lowly, staring the changeling in his pretty eyes. "I seriously thought about leaving him there in that dead land just to rid myself of him. Of the threat of him." I said through the tightness in my throat. "His abilities weren't what made me decide to save him"
"Why then?"
"Because Knut loves you. I saved Bran because you love him, as hard as that is for you to believe." I said softly. "You two may not share a drop of blood, but he is your son as much as Magni was mine. A son, not by blood but by choice." My fingers dug into the curve of the chair's armrest as I lowered my head. "Your grief would've been no less than my own. I chose to spare you it. I would've agreed to the bargain regardless of if Bran helped me in this war or not." I moved my hands into my lap, rubbing at them to fend off the damp cold. After a year in The Summer Branches, I'd grown used to the heat and the cold of the Underground was foreign and strange. I wondered if I would ever get used to it again or if I'd always feel so out of place in my own kingdom. "But no, I'm far too heartless for that to be true, right? I must be lying. I'm just a cruel, vicious bitch who only cares about herself and-"
Suddenly, a warm human hand clasped my own. I looked over at Ib in surprise. He was smiling at me. There were tears glistening in his eyes, darkening his white eyelashes. "Thank you, Matilda. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing my son back to me."
"I look after my friends so long as they look after me. You've been a good one to us." My voice cracked. The relief on his face was immense, palpable. It felt strange to have that bright smile directed at me, let alone to have him hold my hand like we were dear, close friends. I remembered how he'd looked when I'd handed him my dead child, how he'd cradled him like was still alive and fragile. Loving and careful. The same care he'd shown me when he held out his hand to carry me to freedom. "You carried Magni to his father, made sure he and I got home where we belong. It was the least I could do."
"You may not believe me now, but it will be okay. Everything will work out. You'll see."
"Mama!" I heard Odd crying.
Knut appeared, side-stepping through the book stacks, bouncing our thrashing two-year-old in his arms. "There you are. Someone's throwing a royal fit for you." He stopped suddenly, seeing Ib and I holding hands. He cocked an eyebrow at us. "You too, Ib? Can I trust no one not to make moves on my wife?"
"It's not like that." I got up, quickly going to my wailing toddler. "It's okay, Odd, Mama's here." He reached for me with his clawed fingers, his face violet as he sobbed, calling for me over and over. I hugged him tightly, petting his grey hair as I bounced him in my arms. "Shhhhh, I'm here. You're all right. I'm here."
"Matilda and I couldn't sleep so we were having a bit of a heart to heart."
"Oh?" Knut smirked at me. "How did that go?"
I glared Ib's way, silently warning him not to say a word about my breakdown.
"I thanked her for saving Bran and before I knew it we were both sobbing like little babies. I never realized it before, but Matilda can be sweet when she chooses to be. It's kind of cute."
"I was wondering why her eyes were so puffy."
"I'll leave you two alone." Ib stood, holding up the large book. "I'm borrowing whatever this is." He squinted at the cover. "Macbeth? Odd title, but it seems just boring enough to knock me unconscious."
"Definitely," Knut grinned. "A real snoozefest, that one."
I had read it a few times and knew it to be particularly popular with the willed goblins, as all tragedies and stories about murder and mayhem are. Knut especially. The copy Ib held was quite worn from use from the many times Knut had read it. He even had a newer copy that stayed by our bedside. Lady Macbeth, for obvious reasons, was his absolute favorite character. Full of magic and treachery, it was far from what I would call boring and I very much doubted it would aid in drifting Ib off to sleep. Even if it did, it would likely give him nightmares.
Knut just couldn't help playing jokes on anyone that gave him the chance.
Ib tucked the book beneath his arm, his lips curling into an expression that hinted that he might already know Knut's game. "Have a good rest of your night, both of you. When this whole mess is finished, we'll crack open one of Mab's finest reserves to celebrate."
"You mean you haven't drained her wine cellar yet?" Knut snickered.
"Not for lack of trying," Ib said. For a moment he looked a bit uncertain, his throat bobbed and his free hand clenched and unclenched at his side until finally, he reached out and pulled Knut into an embrace. He hugged him, swatting his back. "If you wish us to remain, friends, you best not kill yourself again. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you. I'll try my best." Knut smiled at me over Ib's shoulder. "Who would I have to torture with my antics without my favorite changeling? Matilda would already have put a knife through my other eye if she had to put up with what you do."
"It's my curse to bear I suppose." Ib pulled away and with a final smile at his friend and loved one, he fled the room, patting me on the arm as he did, as if to tell me once more that all would be well.
We watched the changeling leave us, his hair and skin bright as moonlight through a window. "Seriously, if you wish to kiss him, do not stop on my account." I teased him, earning a pouting frown. "I can cover the boy's eyes if you wish to run after him."
"I don't particularly like to be lied to, Matilda." He said in a cool level voice. His black eye bore into me. My smile fell. "I like even less that you got my friend to lie to me for you." He took my face in his hand, tilting it upward so my hair fell back from my face and it was lit with firelight. "You don't get eyes this raw from a little tearing up." This thumb slipped over my trembling lower lip. "What's wrong?"
I pulled my face free, shuffling back, away from him. I pressed my dozing toddler tighter to my chest, resting my cheek against his soft hair as he sleepily scratched his claws gently against my face. "I am afraid, Knut." The truth shuttered out of me, shaking me to my core. "I know I have to go. I need to see them die. I need to make them pay for everything they've done, but I don't...I can't bear the thought of saying goodbye to my babies again. For all our planning, I fear something is going to go wrong. I sank down on the edge of the desk, groaning as my sobs surged up like a tide. "I'm sorry, I know I don't sound like very gobliny right now." I wiped tears away only for more to come in their place. "I'm so damn pathetic."
"Stop spitting lies about yourself at me." Knut scolded me like he might Frit or Floki. "There is nothing pathetic about you. If you wish to stay and guard the children, you may. No one is forcing you to go and there is no shame in it. You will choose where your place in this war will be, whether that's on the front lines or defending our home."
I shook my head slowly at him. "No, I don't have a choice. I have to go to fulfill my bargain. I won't have you do it for me. I know what I have to do, but I'm not so fearless as I used to be. I have so much more to lose now." I reached up and brushed my hand over his cheek. "Once Lysander finally realizes that we've outmaneuvered him, he'll direct every ounce of his rage towards me. He won't stop until I'm dead and if we let him if we fail to kill him quickly, he will make an attempt to come after the boys."
"That would be suicide."
"I don't think that would matter to him so much as making the people that beat and shamed him suffer." I choked on my emotions and squeezed my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to compose myself. "I'm so terrified that he's going to hurt them and I won't be here to protect them." I whimpered into Odd's tiny shoulder, my nose and lungs filling with the sweet scent of bonfire smoke, earth, and milk.
"I'm not going to give him the chance to harm any of you." Knut's thin fingers held my face between them. He leaned in close, filling my vision with that horrible, wonderful face of his. His lips peeled back, flashing every sharp tooth in his skull, the points wet and glistening in the light. "You will not be in this fight alone. Unlike the first war, we'll be fighting together and together we'll do what goblins do to our prey. We'll bare our teeth, sink them deep and eat him alive."
He was right.
He always was.
I was no longer alone. I had three armies at my back, led by generals that were something akin to friends and he was at my side. Together, working together as a swarming horde, there was nothing one man could do to stop us. No matter how powerful he was. We, together, were stronger.
He was a man with a pointy stick amid a pride of lions and we were going to rip him apart.
Perhaps it was the conviction in which he had spoken those few words, or maybe it was just the reminder that I wasn't fighting alone that I needed to hear, but it renewed the fire in me, beat my spine into a stronger, straighter blade. All my fear and trepidation retreated into the deepest, darkest corners of my mind where my memories of my old family resided, hidden away like a blood-stained knife.
I stood with Knut on the royal mushroom in The Hollow's arena, looking out over the horde he'd spent the last several days and morning adding to. Warriors sprang from his head fully formed, with strong arms and hardened bodies, jaws that could crush bones in one bite. Each one was different, each one a unique design. Some were small and lithe with claws like needles, others big enough to topple buildings with a swing of their arm. Some with wings and others without them to scurry through the city streets so they might slip into their houses and eat their children in their nests. Each one he brought forth had the spark of true life in their eyes, yet they all bowed their heads in worship below us, thanking Knut for giving them form, and lifted up weapons in our dead son's name.
A goblin, will or not, was a goblin.
They were ugly and cruel creatures but they were loyal to their makers without fail. They craved the chaos and destruction we promised them as much as the taste of bloody flesh. That too we promised in spades.
"How are you feeling?" I asked Knut, cutting my eyes to where he was seated. His legs had begun to wobble so I'd made him sit for the past hour. "You should take a break."
"I'm perfectly fine." He waved away my concern. I've gotten better at recognizing when I've reached my limit. I've still got a few days of constant making left in me. Don't worry. I'm almost finished anyhow." He leaned forward, an expression like a gleeful child twisting his features. "I've come up with a lovely little trick. Watch this."
From his mind, six goblins sprang, three tall, rakish men garbed in scant leather and a grimacing helm, grey fur hanging from their shoulders. The other three were female in shape, clad in replicas of the iron armor Serafini had made for me. Long blond hair framed the rat-like skull covering their faces like manes and cloaks of midnight flowed around them. They were copies of us. Three sets of doppelgangers.
"If our goal is to keep him confused, what better way than to make him think he's already killed us? We'll have a set of doppelgangers in each wave of our army. They'll fight just like us, react just as we would. He won't be able to tell the difference." He looked up at me, smirking. "What do you think?"
"You're marvelous." I bent down and kissed him. As I raised myself up again, I looked out over the arena to where my children were practicing simple self-defense drills with Llinos. It was late in the evening now and the arena was packed with goblins with still more whirling around us, forming from Knut's thoughts. Over on one of the lower mushrooms, our generals were gathered around a table with a map laid out on it. Herod led the others through how the campaign would go, moving little figures representing each wave to their targets in succession. Clad in black goblin armor, even the blazing Aurora looked less like a faerie and more like us.
I felt a swelling of pride and even a smidgen of hope that everything indeed, might turn out well.
"It's late," I said, lifting Odd up onto my hip. "We need to start getting ready for dinner." I tried not to think of it as our last dinner together. I tried and failed.
"Go ahead with the boys. I'll come along shortly." Knut climbed to his feet, his knees cracking with the movement. "Swing by Serafini's on your way. He said he wanted to see you."
"Don't tell me you got me another gift." I sighed.
"No, this is all him. I have no idea what he wants." He stretched, twisting his back and rolling his shoulders. "Seemed like something good though."
I walked slower than I usually did as I made my way to the blacksmith's shop with Odd on my hip and a trail of little boys walking along behind me. I took in my city as if I'd never seen it before, committing it to memory so I might picture it whenever I closed my eyes.
"Empress!" Serafini strode over from his forge as soon as he saw me step into his shop. He bowed for me with a big, stupid grin on his dirty face. His face only lit up further when he realized the children were there. "Ah! Babies! Welcome too!" He shook each boy's hand, including Odd's. "See all my helpers?! So many!"
The shop was much livelier than last I'd been there. A number of humans were working the forge, making weapons, trinkets and armor alike. All through the shop, their work was on display, the armor was piled on a long table, ready to be thrown on and worn. A grinding tool was constantly running to sharpen blades.
"Wow!" The twins gasped together, looking around in awe. They broke away, dashing to take a closer look at Serafini's wares.
"Look at all these kniiiiivvvveesss!" Frit shrieked, jumping up and down.
"Don't touch anything! Some of this is iron!" I warned them.
"I know, Mama, hands in my pockets!" Frit groaned, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he approached where several pieces of jewelry were being displayed and bent down to peer closer at the details etched into the metal.
Floki did the same. With a much more subdued pace, Floki walked around the shop, taking in it all with wide bright eyes. He studied each of the tools and watched as they were used, completely enraptured by the process of turning misshapen pieces of metal and turning them into useful and pretty things.
"Hmmm," Serafini murmured, his eyes following Floki as he drifted about the room.
"You wanted to see me, Serafini?" I prodded him.
"Si! Si!" He snapped back to attention. "Have something for you." He strode towards one of the tables where the weapons were laying and retrieved a strange looking sword. It had the shape of a dagger, the length of it a bit shorter than most swords I'd seen. The blade itself had a slight curve to it and towards the middle, it was serrated like the kind you might use to carve meat from the bone in the kitchen. It was a simple thing, forged entirely of iron, and bore no elaborate detailing, save for a scale-like pattern on the handle. It was made entirely for its purpose rather than looks, which I liked. It was a very goblin kind of weapon.
"Show you," Serafini said, giving it a few practice swings as he ordered one of his assistants to drag a dummy over. The dummy had the genal shape of a person from head to stomach. It was carved from wood and a bag of grain had been tied to its front to simulate a fleshy body. He first thrust the sword through the grain bag. The sword's sharp point pierced through to the wood beneath it, spilling grain out onto the floor. He pulled it free and swung it, burying the curved edge deep into the dummy's neck. Then, flashing me a gobliny grin, he started a sawing motion. Pushing and pulling the serrated edge through the slice he'd made until the head went rolling across to the floor and stopped at my toes. "Like?" He asked, presenting the barbaric weapon towards me.
I could already picture how I would use it, sawing those mighty wings from Lysander's spine, leaving him a broken ruin, just as he had done to me. "I like very much." I practically purred as I took the sword into my hands. I tried it out for myself, swinging the sword into the side of the wooden dummy. In my hands, the sword cut deeper, stopping almost at the dummy's middle. Sawing the remaining way through its body was like cutting through butter. The grain filling the shop's floor was as pretty to me as a pool of starlight blood.
"What's big one's name?" Serafini asked, gesturing towards where Floki was admiring one of the servants as he brought the hammer down onto red molten iron.
"That's Floki."
"Floki," he called to him, stroking his beard. "Want to try?" Floki bobbed his head eagerly. He guided Floki over to one of the empty forges and held out his big hammer. "You're a strong boy. Take it."
Slowly, a bit unsure, Floki took the hammer from him, lifting it with ease with one hand.
"Good boy," Serafini was beaming. He took a red hot hunk of metal from the forge's fire and set it against the anvil. "Hit."
At his word, Floki drove the hammer down. A ping rang out, high, sharp. It startled Floki at first. He stepped back, looking from the hammer to the hot metal. Already, the metal's shape had been changed, ever closer to becoming a sword. A brightness came to Floki's eyes at that moment and his mouth formed the smile of my twin older brothers, ugly and lopsided but pure and full of absolute joy.
"Again." Serafini nodded and Floki kept working, bringing the hammer down at a steady rhythm that seemed to follow the beat of my own heart.
Floki was bouncing on his feet excitedly by the time I had to pull him away. "That was fun!"
"No fair! I didn't get to try!" Frit pouted.
"You couldn't lift the hammer." Floki teased him, lifting his head up proudly.
"Could too!"
"Could not!"
"Next time, Frit. Promise." I shooed them on ahead out of the shop before we got stuck there a few more hours. "Thank you, Serafini. I think Floki really enjoyed that."
The man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Bring him back soon. I could teach."
"You'd teach him how to work the forge?" My eyes widened.
"Floki's strong and is patient. Unlike twin." He chuckled. "Twin has an eye for details, but the younger one has artist's heart. Likes to make and will work to be better at it. If he wishes to learn, si, I will teach him."
I promised him I would take him up on his offer. Once all the fighting was done, I figured it would do my sons good to find something other than fighting and preparing for their coronation that might bring them happiness.
"I thought this was supposed to be a laid back dinner," I muttered, walking arm in arm with Knut into the dining room that night. I had expected it just to be us, but in fact, everyone was there. Our generals and friends were gathered around the table talking happily as if tonight may not be our last meal together.
The atmosphere was almost jovial as we shared our meal. The boys giggled, tossing beans across the table at Neasa, who tossed them right back. Aurora and Liber sat very close together, trying and failing to hide the fact that they were holding hands beneath the table. Ib and the other men laughed together, trading stories. I didn't understand how they could act so normally. I just sat there, almost mute, just staring at them, listening to their voices, begging my mind not to forget the way they sounded.
"Is everything all right?" Cerise asked.
I lifted my head from my half-eaten chicken to see her worried face. "You're looking a little pale. Are you sick?"
I shook my head. "No, just...nervous about tomorrow."
Suddenly, she set a piece of warm lemony smelling cake in front of me. "I hear eating sweets helps calm the nerves." She smiled that warm, bright smile, the one I'd thought to be fake when we first met. "Don't worry about tomorrow. Just enjoy today."
Is that what everyone else was doing? Trying not to think about the pressure weighing on them? I took a bite of the delicious cake. It was the best thing I'd tasted in well over a year.
After dessert, everyone milled around the room, breaking off into groups while they talked and enjoyed some more wine.
Cerise and I sat and talked for a long while still at the table. It was easy to talk to her. So easy it scared me a little.
"He looks absolutely miserable." She said.
I turned my head to look in the same direction she was. Herod was sitting by himself in a corner, plucking at a mandolin. He looked like a puppy that had been kicked by its master.
"Do you think Ib turned him down?"
"I doubt he has the guts to approach him." Cerise shook her head. "Poor idiot. Give him a sword and something to kill and he's good, but put a pretty boy in front of him and he has no idea what to do."
"Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?" I took a large gulp of wine and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Cerise giggled.
"Just watch."
"Why are you sitting here all depressed?" I asked Herod, leaning against the wall behind him. "Ib's right over there." I motioned to where Ib was playing cards with Knut. "Just walk on over and ask him to dance or something."
"It's not that simple." Herod plucked a sour note. "Don't tell me you're trying to play matchmaker."
"Not at all and yes it is that simple. The man won't know if you like him if you don't tell him. Have you ever even talked to him about anything other than war?"
"No," Herod sighed. "I've tried to talk to him, but then I get all tongue tied and flustered." He looked over longingly at Ib. The changeling smiled and tilted his head back with a rich, handsome sound at something Knut said. He was wearing his favorite deep indigo suit that made the color of his eyes stand out all the more. "I've seen him in some of my visions. Smiling and laughing just like that. I thought maybe it meant that one day he might smile like that at me, but...I guess I was mistaken. It was Knut all along," He played a sad little tune on the mandolin. "You can tell he loves him a lot."
"Too bad he's mine and Knut won't let me share him."
"Did you try to?"
"Not seriously." I shrugged. "The fact of the matter is that at this rate, you're both going to die alone."
"Need you be so blunt?" Herod bent even more forward, curling in on himself like a dying worm. "Just leave me alone."
I pursed my lips. "Ib, come here!" I waved Ib over and Herod visibly cringed.
"What are you doing?" Herod hissed, clamoring to his feet.
Ib's violet eyes shifted from me to the very large man trying to hide behind me. "What is it?"
"Herod is madly in love with you." I stepped from between them. I patted Herod on the back and strode away, leaving the two to blush at each other.
To my surprise, however, Ib didn't storm away or immediately reject him. "Sorry about her. The longer they're married, the more she acts like Knut." He said softly. "I hope she hasn't humiliated you too much."
"Please forget all this," Herod said, looking like he wanted to gut himself.
Ib was quiet for a moment, seeming to be pondering over something. "I could hear you playing the mandolin." He gestured to the instrument still gripped in Herod's hand. "You're good. Will you play me something?"
Herod blinked at him in shock, but then lifted the instrument and set his fingers against the strings. "Of course." He started to play a sweet, pretty song and Ib leaned against the wall beside him to listen. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself as the song swept through the room.
"Stop that faerie shit! Where're the drums!" Knut slurred, tilting his chair too far back and flipping backward. He laid in the floor with his ass in the air, cackling madly at the funny way he'd landed.
There was a small possibility that we were all horrifically drunk.
"Come on you drunkard. Time to sleep this off." I dragged my husband up off the floor and slung his arm around my neck. "We'll see you all in the morning." They all smiled and bid us good night. It felt strange. It was too normal.
I helped Knut out into the hall and started making my way down towards the brooding chamber. As I neared Cat's chamber, however, I saw her striding towards it with Bran close at her heels.
"Why won't you talk to me? Are you still angry?" He asked her.
Cat whirled around. "You just left, Bran! You left without a single word! Not a goodbye, not a damn note! Nothing! I thought we were friends!"
"We are friends!"
"Friends don't do that! Friends don't abandon each other!"
"I didn't have a choice, Cat! The End made me leave! I didn't have time for goodbyes."
"You told Knut you were leaving."
"The End told him. That wasn't me." Bran's hand clawed at his chest. "Please, believe me."
"I want to Bran. You're the only other kid I have to talk to besides my cousins." Cat said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor between them. "But what happens if The End wants you to leave again? What if you disappear again tomorrow?"
Bran lowered his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets, dejected. "I wish I could say that I'm never going to disappear again, but I can't. I don't belong to myself. Not any part of me is mine. Never has been. I'm sorry Cat."
"Have you given him those chocolates yet, Kitty Cat?" Knut shouted, too drunk to control the level of his voice.
The children jumped and stared at him. "You...got me chocolates?" Bran asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
Cat turned bright red all over. "I-I saved you some...I was going to give them to you when you got back...but then when you got here I was too mad so-so I gave them to Floki."
"Oh, well." Bran laughed softly to himself. "Thank you anyway."
"You're welcome!" Now almost burgundy from head to foot, her eyebrows angled sharply over her eyes. "But you're still an asshole!" She spun on her heal and she stormed into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"She'll come around, Bran, My Boy." Knut said as I half carried him down the hall. "Buy her something nice. That usually calms the Pole blood down."
"I will, sir." Bran smiled. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about her. Hurry and get your father to bed." I gave Bran a pat on his shoulder as we passed him, the same Ib had given me. That silent, it will be okay. "We need you both rested and ready to go bright and early in the morning."
A strange look came over Bran's face. He lowered his head and wings, sliding one foot behind him in a half-kneel. "Yes, Empress." He said, splaying those black feathers across the golden floor. "And thank you for everything."
My hands shook a little as I buckled and set every piece of my armor in place. My nerves were shot, but blessedly, I hadn't had any nightmares. I stood there in the brooding chamber before my mirror as I pulled my cloak of midnight around my shoulders. Its magic would do me little good in hiding from as powerful faeries as the ones we were going up against, but it was for more sentimental values that I'd chosen to wear it. It was a gift from Knut and it had seen me through the first war I'd fought. I was nearly ready. All I needed now was to put on my gauntlets and helm. There was one thing I needed to do first.
"Ready?" Knut asked. Already clad in his full garb, his eyes had settled on the box above our bed as well.
I nodded and we very carefully took the box of Magni's ashes from the shelf. Frit, Floki and Odd were still asleep in our bed, curled up together like a littler of kittens. I didn't wish to wake them.
Together Knut and I sat on Floki's bed and took turns taking a pinch of Magni's ashes and setting them into the compartments of our rings. As I slid the snake's head back into place I brought it to my mouth and kissed it. Then I kissed each of the boys in turn on their soft cheeks, taking deep breaths each time to fill my lungs of their scent.
"Are you sure you don't want to wake them up?" Knut asked, pulling his helm down over his face. Despite how thin he was, he made a frightening picture with that monster's skull perched atop a skeletal, pale body covered in bits of leather and the creature's own greasy hide.
I strapped my gauntlets on tight and reached up to my own helm. "I won't say goodbye. I'll just say I'm home when I return." I pulled it down over my face. I glanced back at the mirror, at that frightening woman staring back at me through the helm's eye-sockets. As goblin herself as her husband. Her eyes were wrong though. The body was goblin. The eyes were far too human. "Let's go." I said, I looked back one final time at my sleeping boys and, swallowing a wail of agony, I shut the door behind me.
As we drew nearer to the city's gates, the sound of war drums filled our ears like a beautiful love song. An uncountable number of goblins stomped their feet along with the beat, shaking the ground we walked on with their might. At their head, Snorri prowled. He beat his fist against his bare chest, leading the others in a chant.
Knut and I took our places before them and joined in, throwing our fists into the air as we bore our teeth and snarled. "Hailsarune dar kaarrr biraashh! Hoom bakai! Hoom bakai!
"The Hollow asks for blood! No mercy! No mercy!"