Chapter Ten:
Monsters
My muscles burned like molten lava. A slow, agonizing pain spread throughout my body and left me fighting for breath. I gasped, greedily sucking in the cool air. The blue sky was a small speck from far above me.
Vines and cobwebs wrapped neatly around my body, restraining and suspending me in midair. Every time I struggled to break free, the vines tightened around my body like a constrictor. Elvira's broken body lay below me; a snarl across her dead lips. The twinges of power forcing its way through my skin were already fading.
On instinct I lashed out at the vines, kicking and tearing. Elvira's power fueled my tired, injured body and giving it the adrenaline I needed. But no matter how much I struggled the vines held me tight and I swayed helplessly and vulnerable in their grip.
Images of the battle on the mountain flashed behind my eyes. The memory of Panic's dying shriek still rung in my ears. He'd been a good horse and all it got him was a dagger in the eye. Rekke was gone too; the sweet little girl who shouldn't have been on the Hunt at all was dead because of the crumpled body below me. Every cell in me ached to pummel it to a pulp until it was unrecognizable. It was as if the feeling of her blood between my fingers would make up for the lives she'd cut short.
Once more, I twisted in the vines, lashing out with bound legs, and once more I failed to get free. The small speck of blue sky was now an indigo blanket. I closed my eyes, praying to whatever deity that would listen that Soren got out alright and that the blood streaking his body was not his own.
The hair on the back of my neck rose as footsteps echoed through the dark caverns. I thrashed wildly. If I got a glimpse of what this place looked like I may be able to know what type of creature called it their home—and more importantly, if they wanted to eat me.
The high walls of the cavern glistened with crimson liquid too thin to be blood, dripping down onto moss the color of moonlight. Bones and feathers littered the floor and among them sat a human skeleton. I swallowed down the fear threatening to rise. Escape was my goal and fear only got in the way. I brought one vine-covered arm up to my mouth and gnawed at the bitter-tasting plant.
The echoing footsteps stopped. "You won't get out that way," someone giggled.
"Where are you?" The voice came from behind me, but there was only darkness.
"You should be more polite," she said. "It's not fun when everyone doesn't get along."
"Show yourself!" I snarled. Whoever, whatever, these creatures were they needed to know they wouldn't cow me no matter how vulnerable I was swinging from the vines.
"Poor girl," this voice was obvious male and his words stung like dripping acid. "So much to lose, so little understood."
"Odin's Ravens! Who are you people?" The voices echoed all around me; the words repeating themselves over and over like a chant. I whipped my head around the nest but besides the feathers and old bones, the only moving thing was the sluggish liquid dripping off the stone.
"That's not very nice," the female said. This time I pinpointed her voice to a crevice above me. The creature's large, dark eyes twinkled with amusement, cracks formed along her eggshell white skin, and a shock of brilliant green hair hung in her face. Oh no. Gods Above, not this.
The male clucked his tongue and stepped into a patch of the shining moss. He stood there as I hung from the vines, boredom in his reddish gaze. His ebony skin also was cracked in places and a tail swept beside his legs, the tip twitching back and forth. The bare skin of his chest flaked away at his ribcage until the bloody bones and muscles underneath were exposed.
I swallowed my rising dread. Svartelves. It had to be svartelves. The good news was that they probably weren't going to cut me up and eat me; the bad news was they were notorious for driving people insane. Somehow, that made becoming an hors d'oeuvre a lot more appealing.
"Tibra is right. You should be nice," the male said, leaning against a jagged stone. The red liquid dripped onto his bare chest and spread out like roots to his shoulders and fingertips, to his neck and breast, and down to his stomach before sinking into his body and disappearing. He circled around me and I caught a glimpse of his hollow back. With his eyes on me I felt very, very naked. "You could've ended up like her," he flicked his tail toward Elvira's broken body. "But we decided to catch you."
"She didn't die from the fall, I killed her."
He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Oh? Well, perhaps you could explain the broken neck, then? Or the spine?" he curled his upper lip as he nudged the body with his foot. "Of course, a fall couldn't have gouged her eyes out, now could it? I guess we can share the credit, if you wish. You already possess her power, anyhow."
From behind me, the girl giggled again. "Can we keep her, Donnar? Can we?" With the way she widened her eyes at Donnar, her hands clasped together, Tibra looked like she was begging for a pet. I swore inwardly.
Donnar did another circle around me again, his tail flicking back and forth with contempt. Almost like Soren's growls, it had a language of its own. "She smells like goblin," he said as he stuck his face in mine. "A strange odor for a human."
"And you smell like svartelf and that's a strange odor for anyone," I countered. "Now if you would be kind enough to let me go."
Donnar laughed. "Go where?"
"Home."
"And where is that?" Like Tibra, his eyes sparkled in delight of this new game. Like Tibra, he was also very lucky I was restrained right now.
"Stop playing with me. I'll give you whatever you want but just let me go!"
Donnar shook his head, tutting like I was a naughty child. "You didn't answer my question, though. Where is your home? Your village has burnt to the ground, your blood relatives have all perished, humankind see you as a blood traitor. Yet here, no matter what changes you make you will always be human first and goblin second, and your morals will be compromised by the way society has run for thousands upon thousands of years. Not to mention, why leave and search for your heart when it beats right in front of you."
A chill went down my spine. "How do you know so much about me?"
He smiled, showing yellowed fangs. "It is my job to know. I wait and I watch and I see your fates play out in the bloodwater that flows down the mountain. There are those that seek me for this knowledge but the more I give, the more they come away with their minds broken. But you already experienced that—even if you did not know at the time."
"It's strange," I snapped. "I don't know now either! Stop playing mind games with me. Let me leave!"
"Why?" he asked again, his tail sweeping across the floor as he knelt down beside me. "You have nowhere to go. And what world would accept a creature warring against herself."
"I'm not warring against myself," I said. My stomach churned at the thought that this creature knew of my every struggle and was laying it out before my eyes. A sinking pit in my belly grew as his words goaded me like a cattle prod.
Donnar clucked his tongue again drew a line down my jaw with his dark fingers. I shivered as claws protruded from his knuckles. When he brought his hand away, he left a warm, wet mark behind. Then with a flick of his wrist he slashed the vines apart.
My head cracked against the ground and I groaned at the multiple stinging cuts and bruises. It was hard to think through the thick haze of pain; my injuries screamed, demanding my attention. The blurry, sleek rainbows of the bloodwater and the shining moss doubled before my eyes and the world slipped farther and farther away with every throb of my head.
Wildly and half-blind, I groped the bone-littered ground for my bow and quiver, praying it survived the fall. If these creatures wouldn't let me out willingly then I'd force them to. Gods be damned the pain in my body, I'd had worse and survived. "Looking for this?" Donnar balanced the bow on his fingertip, twirling it like a baton.
I lurched forward, stumbling to the ground on deadened feet. "Give me that." I scrambled to get up, only to realizing the feeling in my arms had gone numb.
Tibra flitted to stand beside him. "Aw, you hear that, she's like a baby. Please can we keep her?"
"What did you do to me?" I panted, curled on my side. Icy coldness was spreading like liquid through my insides. It burned, it froze, and I wanted it out. I dug into the underside of my arms but nothing stopped the pain. Tears glistened in the corners of my eyes as the world spun around me. The coldness crushed the breath out of my chest. My mouth opened, but only a strangled cry came out. The world spun around me as I failed to push myself up and crawl away.
Claws clacked against the stone as Donnar came beside me; he squatted down, clutching my chin. The claws on his knuckles brushed against my cheek, glistening with something dark and wet. "You're so afraid," he said, smiling. Rows upon rows of sharp, pointed teeth stared at me. "I'm not doing anything to you, dear child. Your body is just finally catching up to your mind. Didn't the young lord telling you that agonizing over your decision would drive you mad? It breaks you from the inside out. You survived the fall because like all things that end up here, you seek knowledge. Knowing has the power to kill." He glanced at the bones scattered across the cave floor. "I don't envy you."
No. No. Let me leave. I don't want to die. I don't want to die! Each breath was a struggle, each conscious second ticking by a battle, but no matter how hard I fought the darkness that crowded my vision pulled me deeper and deeper into it's grasp.
Donnar smiled sadly at me. "I guess that is the nice thing about being undecided. You can choose between the blood of battle and the blood of birth, of good war and bad peace, of which arms you wish to push away and which arms you wish to hold you close. It's a beautiful thing. A maddening thing."
My eyelids drooped. His riddles turned my brain to mush and the cold darkness surrounding me whispered invitations in my ear.
"Make your choice wisely, little one." I closed my eyes as Donnar's dry lips pressed against my forehead.
###
The dark cavern was gone. Bones of beings, both animal and human, immortal and mortal, littered the floor. I stepped carefully, waiting for my injuries to scream in pain, but they never did. No body lay on the ground, twisted with a broken neck and spine, face bloodied from my nails and my bow and quiver pressed against my back in their familiar embrace.
I continued down the cavern, ducking under stones that pointed down from the ceiling, jumping over those that surged upward from the ground. Far ahead of me the manic cackle of a goblin echoed off the cavern walls. I picked up my pace, careful not to make any noise as I followed the sound. The high-pitched shriek of a human child mingled with the manic laughter and I broke into a run through the passageways.
I sprinted around the corner only to come to a stumbling halt as the scene unfolded in front of me. The small child raced around the rocks while the goblin guarded her like a sentry, fondness in his eyes, as she tried to climb the wall of the cavern. A rock came loose and she shrieked as she fell, but the goblin's arms were waiting to catch her. He said something to her in a language I didn't know but I picked up the worry in his tone. The girl crossed her arms, pouting, but relented to his demand. He set her down again and they raced through the shadows.
Their silhouettes danced around me, laughing and hooting with glee. In between the flashes of their bodies their features merged and changed at random. Sometimes the girl had blue eyes, sometimes brown. Sometimes the goblin's hair was cropped short, sometimes it was down to his back. Both silhouettes stopped their dance and came to a halt in front of me. Their features changed so fast that they were both everyone and no one. Only one thing remained the same: one was goblin and the other was a human child.
The two forms melted away and I stood alone in the darkness. "Donnar! Where are you? What are you doing to me?"
The only answer was the steady dripping of bloodwater. My fingers curled around my bow, tucking it under my arm as the passages twisted and turned. There had to be a way out or at least a skylight. "Donnar?"
In the distance a voice was chiding someone but every time they spoke, the sound changed. An old woman, a young man, a toddler barely able to form words, all saying the same thing.
"You wouldn't have to suffer if you just gave in."
"Who's there?" I called, rounding a corner so fast I nearly smacked into stone.
"I would suffer more if I just gave in." This voice was spitting and spiteful, fueled with fire and fury. Underneath the fury was passion kindled by the flames. "You act like this is an easy choice for me."
"That's only because you think about it too much." The voices may've been strangers but the conversation as eerily like the one I had with Soren hours ago and a small ball of nerves was hardening in my gut.
Bones and scales crunched under my feet as I weaved through the small passages. The walls shone like oil spots, a dark rainbow against the shining moss. A human skeleton was on its knees with hands outreached. I shuddered as I passed by. It looked like it was begging for mercy.
"Don't complain then if you don't feel right. It isn't natural to control yourself this way."
I kept my bow notched but there was no one to shoot at. The voices came from everywhere and nowhere, carried by the cold tunnel winds.
"You know the thing they say about goblins, right?" the voice asked. "We can't lie to ourselves."
A growl shut out the voices and resonated deep within my bones. I clutched my bow, keeping the arrow aimed at wherever the sound appeared next. There was a lump in my throat and it was growing bigger by the minute. Unsteady hands shook the bow, making it impossible to aim.
A shadow stood before me, it was long, lean, and goblin-like. Faceless and nameless, it was a stranger but I couldn't shake the growing feeling that I knew it. It came forward toward me as if it could hear the sound of my heart racing. My blood froze as I aimed at the creature, the arrow shaking against the bowstring. Cornered, trapped, and with nowhere to hide, sweat dripped down my face and my eyes darted around wildly.
The shadow reached to my cheek with long, delicate fingers dripping with darkness and blood. I closed my eyes at the faint feeling of a hand brushing against my cheek.
"Maybe," the voice agreed with the first. "But I can try."
With a hiss, the shadow-creature vanished, spluttering out in short, staccato bursts.
I sat there too stunned to move as the fear dwindled until all that was left was the hard lump in my throat. These are just mind games. Donnar is trying to drive me mad; that's what svartelves do.
He'd said something as he kissed my brow. Choose wisely. The phantom sound of a child at play floated from behind me and the shadows swirled and merged together until the covered the dark passages of the cavern and exploded into light.
I stood, staring into the distance. The harsh light burned and I held a hand up to shield my vision. It was brighten than fire, brighter than the sun glinting off the snow, and the whiteness called to me. The soft, motherly voice spoke my name as I drew closer and wind whirled around me as I stepped into the light.
There was no more darkness, no more dripping of red water onto stones, no more shadows flitting around, or voices muttering cryptic warnings. The field of wheat shimmered in the wind like an ocean of amber and the smell of warmth and springtime brought long buried memories back from the dead.
And the sun, oh the sun. It hung in the sky unmuted, sending rays of warmth down onto me. I tilted back my head, soaking up every last drop.
"I knew you'd never change."
My arrow was ready to go before I even turned but the man in front of me smiled as he waited until I was over my shock. I stared, unable to believe my eyes. Crows feet webbed around the man's brown eyes and his shaggy, shorn hair was the color of underbrush. His bushy beard was a few shades darker and redder than the rest of him. Like me, his tawny skin blended in with the amber field.
Unable to take my eyes off the man before me, I drank in his features. Whoever this was, whatever this was, it was in the form of my father. The man who raised me, trusted me, and made me his heir. The man I failed. I choked back my tears.
"Father," I whispered. "Is it really you?"
The man smiled at me. "You've been so brave."
Weapons forgotten on the ground, I raced into his arms. This was my father. My father. Whether he was an illusion or flesh and blood before my eyes, I didn't fight his embrace. The scent of wood musk and smoke came off him just like it had when he was alive. I breathed I deeply, hoping that the scent would still linger with me when he disappeared.
A hand weaved through my hair. "I knew you'd never change. You always loved the sunlight on your face."
I looked up at him, afraid to see disappointment in his eyes. I had changed. He must know that. He'd lived for seventeen years with the burden that his child would be as good as goblin-born one day. He knew everything.
"There's sun in the Permafrost, but not like this. It's not warm. I missed the human sun," I said. "I missed you, too."
There was a long, quiet moment. My father rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly, before he spoke again. "There is a way to return," his breath tickled my ear, "if you would have it."
My heart leapt in my throat. "What? How? What can I do?"
He smiled, the crow's feet by his eyes crinkling. "I knew you would want to return." He let go and dug his hand in the satchel hanging on his waist. Resting in his palm was a tiny, iron knife.
I took a step back. "What...what are you doing?"
"Don't you want to be with us? With your family? After a hundred years among savages don't you miss us?" I flinched at the coldness in his words.
It took me a minute to find my voice. "Of course I missed you! I thought about you all every day!"
He thrust the knife toward me and I stepped back. "Did you? Or were you too busy becoming part of that savage race to notice?"
The warmth drained from my body. "You can't speak," I said. "When were you going to tell me I was born on the border of the worlds? When were you going to let me know a goblin would take me away once I turned eighteen?"
My father spat. "I would've expected you to weasel your way out of it like you did with everything else. Not...not become a goblin's personal lapdog."
My fingers curled into fists. "I am not Soren's lapdog. I am my own person and I make my own choices. In fact, he told me that I could leave if I wanted and go back to the human world. He told me the truth when I needed to hear it and protected me from others and myself. And that's better than what you're doing."
His face turned beet red at my words and he gestured wildly around him. "You're corrupted, then. Don't you remember? Don't you remember walking in the ashes? This is what he did! All of it! This is what he and his kind do!"
One by one the dead appeared beside him. My six beautiful sisters with their faced marred and bodies scarred, my mother who bled from a wound in her breast, three children with crushed in skulls, a man almost ripped in half, a woman whose scalp hung from her head. They stood there in silence, but the anger in their eyes spoke for them.
I stared back at them calmly, meeting each and every one of their eyes. They could blame me for their deaths and call me a blood traitor for surviving under Soren. They could replay the horrors they'd went through over and over until every image was engraved in my brain. They could remind me of Lydian pounding away inside my body, tearing chunks of flesh out of my breast until it was so full of infection it had to be removed.
They could do all those things but they could not make me feel ashamed.
It's a wonderful thing. Donnar's voice rode on the wind. Being able to choose. It's a wonderful thing to know and not have that knowledge destroy you. It's a terrible burden to bear alone. I don't envy you, child.
I rose my chin and straightened my shoulders, staring my father directly in the eye. "It wasn't Soren's fault the village was raided. It wasn't Soren's fault that I am who I am. And it's not my fault either. If you really were my father you wouldn't try to guilt me into admitting it."
The man before me laughed bitterly. "You think this is an illusion? I am your father. You are my daughter." His laughter died and a tear slid down his face. "You were my pride and joy, my Janneka. You can still be that. You can be here, with me and your sisters and mother and those who love you for eternity. You could escape from those monsters who poison your mind day and night. Who make you believe they care."
My gaze was steely but inside my heart was breaking. This was my family, who I'd mourned and missed and prayed for each night. Yet when I looked at them all their faces were full of contempt, of pent up anger and jealous and mistrust. This wasn't the father who raised me. This was a man twisted with rage.
Promise me you'll never hurt yourself. I couldn't bear it if you were hurt. It was if he was right next to me, whispering in my ear. Did I do something wrong? I thought touch was how humans established bonds of trust? That infuriating smirk that he saved just for me. You talk in your sleep, did you know? It's fine to be embarrassed, I would say my name in my sleep too. Maddening, self-centered, arrogant, passionate, protective, concerned, playful, teasing: those were all things Soren was. And maybe he was a monster too. But if he was, then so was I.
My father palmed the small knife over and over in his hand, the iron barely tainting his flesh. Even with the antler bone grip, just holding it would be agony. I bit my lip, the scars across my body burning.
"Why won't you let me die?" I asked the she-goblin hovering over me. In the dark room it was hard to tell if her hair was naturally red or if it was just my blood. There was so much blood.
The she-goblin huffed. "If it were up to me, I would. But it isn't up to me. I'm just following orders." She plunged another needle deep into my arm until I was silent.
The man that replaced her had white hair that hung just past his hips. His eyes burned into me from a chair across the room as I feinted at sleep. If I woke something terrible would follow. I knew it in my bones. But I was past the point of death; the infection in my body was no more and the deadly fever had broken.
"I know you're not asleep," the man said. "I want you to know you're safe here. I protect my own."
My father continued. "It will be over quickly. And then you'll be free. You'll never be a monster."
I looked past him and at the sun spilling across the wheat, turning it to waves of amber. When I spoke it was almost like it was the voice of a stranger. "And what exactly is a monster, father?"
My father took me into his embrace. "A monster," he whispered in my ear, "is anything that is not us."
He cradled the blade in his hands and offered it to me hilt first. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the bone and waiting for the pain. The ironwork didn't even sting—or if it did, it was nothing compared to the agony inside me.
I admired the designs carved into the blade and the way the hilt was shaped like a ram's horn. It was a shame that something this beautiful would be so tainted. "There are monsters in this world. I pity the fool who doesn't remember that."
My father sounded pleased. "Go on. Make the right choice."
"I loved you all so much," I whispered. Then, before fear stilled my hand I shoved the knife between my father's ribs, through his sternum, and into his heart.
He gasped, eyes widened with shock as he fell towards his knees. Blood spurted from around the knife. He scratched at his chest with his hands until he ripped the blade out but all that did was quicken the spill of blood. He screamed that one word over and over.
His body shuddered and convulsed. His eyes rolled back into his head as his mouth stayed open with a silent accusation. Tears dripping from my cheeks. "Yes, father, I am a monster. But so are you."
With those words the world exploded into whiteness. As my vision faded, I swore it took the shape of the Stag.
AN:
So, was this what you were expecting? Was that truly Janneke's father or just a illusion?
Also, for more moral quandries check out Ashes Come Dawn!