Shona Husk - The Goblin King

Copyright 2011 by Shona Husk

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Cover illustration by Don Sipley

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The summons pulled at every cell in his body, tearing the bonds that held him together and dragging him from the Shadowlands. He fought the compulsion to answer, as he did every time. And lost. As he did every time. The urge to obey his summoners orders hed tamped down long ago. Yet he attended, as he did every time.

The beads in his hair jangled and chimed, lifted on the breeze created as he moved from one world to the next, like golden music in his ears. He moved into the Fixed Realm wrapped in shadows to hide from the eyes of his would-be commander. Then he paused and looked around.

A bedroom. Not the first hed been summoned to. The only light spilled from the nearby bathroom. His nose wrinkled at the smell of wet dog and wine. He frowned. No summoner stood before him, demanding an audience with the Goblin King. The human whod called him from the Shadowlands and sought to control him lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. Immobile. Wounded. Female.

The goblin kept his hand on his sword and stepped forward. As he did, the shadows sloughed off him and slid away to the corners of the bedroom. The tension in his skin eased as the compulsion to obey faded. Hed attended. He could leave. Yet he couldnt look away.

The woman breathed, her breasts lifting with each inhalation. Her black silk dress clung to each curve, hiding and revealing without ever moving. His fingers rubbed together as if feeling the glide of silk on skin.

His concentration was broken by a knock on the door. The handle turned slightly. He raised one hand and metal jammed, securing the room. The door would hold until he was done.

Eliza, you have to come down. A mans voice came from the other side of the door, the words just shy of an order. The handle jiggled, then a fist pounded on the door as the man tried to get into the bedroom. Could he sense the darkness creeping under the door, leaking from the goblin?

The goblin squatted and studied the woman the man had called Eliza. Eliza . Her name echoed in his ears as if he should know her. Her head was bleeding, the dark blood seeping into the darker carpet. He reached out to touch her, drawn to her beauty the same way he was drawn to the gold hanging from her ears. The light from the bathroom cut across his mottled gray skin. He jerked his hand back as if hed been burned. It was this body the woman would see if she woke now. A body not even he could bear to see. He should unlock the door and leave. Let the man who kept knocking tend her cut feet and bruised head.

He hesitated. Eliza had called the Goblin King.

Open up, Eliza. The knocking became more urgent. The tone less caring. You look like a fool hiding from your own birthday.

Charming. She is unconscious, you fool. And drunk.

Something was amiss. He rocked back on his heels as he assessed the woman and the bedroom. Glass and wine covered the bathroom floor. Eliza lay unmoving. Yet the man demanding her presence knew none of this. He shook his head and the beads rattled. This wasnt his problem. The gods knew he had enough of his own.

But Eliza had wished. Wished to be taken away. And he wanted to obey. Her words pulsed in the air and shook in his presence. The goblin let her wish settle around him like a cloak made of the darkest dreamswhere hers ended and his began. He forced out a breath. No good would come of this.

The door vibrated under a fresh onslaught of hits this time accompanied by muttered swearing. His fingers brushed over the ends of her blond hair. There was something disturbingly familiar about her. Her face, the curve of her lips. Where had he seen her? Had she summoned him before? There was something about the magic, her wordsHis eyes narrowed and he glanced back at the door. He couldnt think through the thousands of summons hed answered with that incessant noise. Couldnt the man give him some peace?

What am I supposed to tell the guests? The mans silence seethed with fear. Fine, have it your way. Well talk tomorrow. He gave the door a final slap before his footsteps faded away. No fight to be had.

The goblin smiled. Eliza was his.

He scooped up her limp body. Her fair skin was scented like summer blossoms. It had been so long since hed felt the summer sun on his skin. So long since hed been able to touch a flower without killing the bloom. So long since hed had company, female company.

Her head lolled against his arm. He cradled her closer and murmured against her hair.

You should be careful what you wish for, Eliza. Her name rolled easily off his thick tongue. For I am all too happy to oblige, he said with a laugh that held no joy.

The shadows closed around the Goblin King, drawing him, and his prize, home to the Shadowlands.

Eliza was warm against him. She glowed as if lit from within, a radiance not usually seen in the Shadowlands. He hesitated, not wanting to lay her down and lose contact. He liked her weight in his arms and the touch of her skin against his. If she woke now, in the Shadowlands, he would look human with a face he had no qualms about Eliza seeing. He inhaled her delicate female scent once more. His body responded as any mans would, and the lust for something other than gold burned through him as unfamiliar as it was pleasant.

Soon enough. He preferred women who participated, eagerly.

He placed her on his bed, and her dress rode up over her thighs, revealing long, smooth, creamy white legs. He ran his thumb over the scar on her inner knee. Like dew on a spiderweb, it accentuated the perfection of her body. He brushed the scar again. Years he chose not to count had passed since any woman had called the Goblin King, and he intended to make full use of the summons.

Who was he to disobey her command?

He fanned her hair over the sheets on his bed, an old four-poster taken from a palace. The posts were cleverly carved with a hunt, the prey forever chased by the hunter. He doubted the French king whod originally had it noticed its disappearance.

Hed gathered beautiful objects from all over the world to fill his caves. Authentic Persian carpets, Ming vases, silk drapes, gold statues, gold mirrors, gold coins. Yetsomething was always missing. So he followed his goblin naturewhen in doubt add more gold. It was an easy way to decorate.

But an empty way to live.

Now he had another beautiful object to entertain him while he wasted eternity. His knuckle traced her cheek. Eliza didnt flinch and her eyes remained stubbornly closed. She would look upon the king shed called and have her audience on her knees.