The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom Страница 6

Kate drew long breaths, her fright giving way to indignation. Yes, that was this creature’s other characteristic, she remembered with disgust. Inhumanly ugly and, as far as she could tell, inhumanly rude.

“I never saw anyone move so fast! You should have seen yourself!”

Kate eyed him balefully, furious at being laughed at. This is the last time, she vowed firmly, that I give him that satisfaction. She righted the upset bench as calmly as she could and sat down shakily. Marak moved to do the same, not bothering to copy her this time. He just pulled the bench up and sat down as if they were across a normal table instead of across magical dimensions. Then he propped an elbow on his dressing table and leaned his cheek on one big, knotted hand, looking out at her expectantly.

“Yes, I should have seen myself,” said Kate, finding her voice with an effort. “I’m looking in a mirror, aren’t I? I want my reflection back where it belongs.”

“I’ll be your reflection,” Marak teased. “You’ll come and sit before me, and I’ll tell you how beautiful you are. I’ll tell you that there’s no woman in the whole land to compare with you, just like magical mirrors are supposed to.”

Kate decided to ignore his impertinence. It was the only ladylike thing to do. “Why did you come here?” she demanded angrily. “Why are you bothering me?”

“I’m here tonight for the same reason that I was here last night,” he replied. “Are you sure you really want to know why? You look a little upset.” He crossed his wiry arms and leaned forward to study her carefully. “There’s no insanity in your family, is there?”

The irony of this question coming out of the mouth of a grotesque illusion left Kate speechless for a few seconds. Insanity? Not until he came along. She shrugged, looking blank.

“No insanity,” Marak concluded in relief. “That’s good. You do keep surprising me,” he admitted. “I thought I had you sound asleep. Then there you were, sitting up and shrieking like a teakettle. Really, Kate!” he reproved, shaking his bony head at her. “What if someone had heard you?”

“Are you a ghost?” Kate asked quickly before she could lose her nerve. Suppose he did something dreadful!

“No,” he answered. “I am alive, just as you are.”

“Then you’re a devil?” she guessed.

“How wicked do you think I am?” He chuckled. “You think I’m evil incarnate just because I irritate you? There must be a special place in hell for people who use your first name without permission.” He threw back his head and laughed loudly at his own joke.

Kate glared at him in embarrassed rage. “Then what are you?” she demanded.

Marak considered her shrewdly.

“I’m a goblin,” he replied and grinned at her. Kate shuddered. Those frightful teeth! She stared at him, completely at a loss. She tried to think of everything she had ever heard about goblins, but it wasn’t much.

Marak watched her with interest, waiting to see what she would say next. “Just what is a goblin?” he prompted the confused Kate. She rallied before he could make fun of her.

“Something rude,” she stated emphatically. He was helpless with laughter.

“Oh, Kate, I do like you,” he confessed. “You’re quite a welcome surprise. So you don’t know what a goblin is. I’ll tell you, then. It is a creature of the race begun by the First Fathers, made with their magic as they drew on the strength of all the other creatures to produce their children. And the goblin you see before you is Marak, the King, the direct descendant of the Greatest of the First Fathers of our race.

“In each generation since the very beginning,” he said, “the King’s Wife has borne only one child, and that child is always a son. Each son has become Marak in his turn. The King is the guardian and source of the magical gifts of our race. Without the King, the race is lost.” He paused and considered her thoughtfully.

“But this King’s first wife has died without leaving a son,” he told her.

Kate eyed the grotesque goblin uneasily. What should one say to a monster who has lost his spouse? Her upbringing had not prepared her for moments like this.

“Shall I tell you what your mirror sees?” Marak went on. Kate frowned and looked away, expecting more teasing. “I see a young human woman who is astonishingly beautiful,” he said. Surprised, Kate eyed him warily. “And who has demonstrated a courage, intelligence, and resourcefulness that I did not at all expect. In short, I see an ideal King’s Wife.”

It took Kate a few seconds to comprehend, and then her blood froze in her veins. She couldn’t move or speak, though she was vaguely aware that the ugly creature was watching her with concern. The room began to grow dim around her.

“Kate,” said that commanding voice, “you are having a horrible nightmare.” She heard him over the roaring in her ears. It was the only thing he had said that made sense. “Lie down now.” Kate put her head down on a pillow. A blanket came over her. She felt its warm touch against her cheek.

“Sleep well, with no more nightmares,” concluded the voice. “When you wake up, you will be refreshed. But you will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”

The candle snuffed out, and the mirror went blank, but Kate didn’t notice. She was already sleeping soundly and peacefully, carrying out the goblin King’s orders to the letter.

Chapter 4

“Wake up! Are you going to sleep all day?”

Kate opened her eyes and blinked drowsily. Aunt Prim pushed back the curtains and unlatched the window as Emily sat down next to Kate. A fresh, cool breeze flowed into the room. Outside, Kate could see green leaves glowing in the bright morning sun.

“How are you, dear?” asked Prim cautiously, coming over. “Emily said she heard you crying out and talking in your sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. Are you feeling any better?”

“I feel wonderful.” Kate smiled up at her. “I slept so well that I’m completely refreshed.” She frowned. “But then, I had to, didn’t I?” she added bitterly. Emily and Aunt Prim exchanged puzzled glances.

“Well, dear,” Prim said anxiously, “we’re going down to the Hall for the day, but I think perhaps you should stay home and rest.”

Kate climbed out of bed. “Oh, no,” she declared. “I don’t want to miss a lovely morning like this. Mrs. Bigelow is bound to have a wonderful meal planned for us at the Hall. I’ll be ready in just a few minutes,” she promised, and shooed the two of them out the door.

Feeling bold, she hurried to her dressing table. She sat for a moment and examined her reflection closely, but the mirror behaved in every respect like a good mirror should. It reflected a cozy, personable room and the glorious day outside. There was nothing to indicate the strange happenings of the night before. Nothing, that is, beyond her own peculiar expression. One cannot look entirely ordinary, she considered, after such a horrifying event. Or, although she failed to realize it, after being told one is astonishingly beautiful. She did linger just a minute longer than usual before the glass, turning her head to catch a view of her profile. Then she remembered the goblin’s proposal to flatter her whenever she came near the mirror and jumped up in a huff.

Kate dressed hastily, splashing her face with cold water to bring the color to her pale cheeks. She brushed her hair at the mirror and tried not to think about what she had seen there, but her strange visitor’s every gesture, every word came clearly to mind. She could practically relive the night’s events. What had he said? “You will remember everything that has happened tonight in perfect detail.”

Good spirits waning, she went to the window to clear her thoughts. No giant black cat waited outside, but a dingy gray squirrel crouched on the tree limb by her room, right where the cat had been. It was facing her window, and Kate had the distinct impression that it was watching her.

She came out to the waiting carriage with a brave smile for her worried aunts, but when a small squirrel came leaping down to the gravel path beside her, she brandished her fist at it and chased it away. She turned back to find all three occupants of the carriage staring at her in bewildered alarm.

“Heavens, Kate!” reproved her sister. “Bullying a squirrel!”

“Hush, Emily!” Prim scolded sharply as she and Celia exchanged anxious glances.

They arrived at the Hall, and the aunts swept in, greeting Mrs. Bigelow. Kate straggled behind, uneasy and irritable. At the door, Emily paused and looked back. She caught Kate’s arm with a grin and pointed at the carriage.

There on the roof crouched the squirrel. It sat up, chattering, and waved its tail at her. Kate had a vision of herself chasing it headlong down the gravel track, yelling like a banshee. No, perhaps she’d better not. She gathered the shreds of her composure about her and stepped through the door. If she shut it behind her with more force than necessary, she was unaware of it. Occupied with her own thoughts, she didn’t see the shocked glances of her aunts as she walked past them to take her place in the dining room. Mrs. Bigelow sat down with the family and summoned the staff to begin serving the meal.

Kate picked at her food. If God is so good, she considered unhappily, why won’t He make this horrible creature go away? But the Romans hadn’t asked permission before hauling the Sabine women away to be their wives, and the ancient tribes were always taking women captive. God gives His creatures freedom to act, her father had taught her, and it is our responsibility to use it correctly. But what if a magical goblin has no intention of using his freedom correctly? I suppose it’s my responsibility to stop him, Kate concluded pessimistically. As well as I know how.

That raised another point. What did she know about how to stop goblins? Nothing whatsoever. She had heard the term applied to mischievous children, and she thought she remembered a story about goblins from her nursery days, something about ugly little creatures with big round eyes who caused trouble to farmers. Kate felt a sense of indignation. Her education had obviously been inadequate. She must learn more, but not from the goblin himself. Kate was sure she wouldn’t escape another encounter with him. Perhaps she could find out something useful from Mrs. Bigelow. She had lived there all her life and was bound to know something about goblins. Maybe she could tell Kate what to do.

The meal was dragging on in awkward silence. No one had been able to think of much to say. Perhaps this was because Hugh Roberts ate without his usual book, paying close attention to the conversation. Kate didn’t know how her aunts felt about this abnormal behavior, but it made her rather uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Bigelow,” she said to the housekeeper as carelessly as she could, “Mr. Roberts told us once that there are lots of folktales about Hallow Hill. Do any of the stories mention goblins?”

Hugh Roberts leaned his large bulk forward and looked at Kate over his spectacles.

“Who has told you about goblins, Miss Winslow?” he asked. “And please don’t try to tell me that it was my cousin.” This was a nice mess, decided Kate, taken aback. She couldn’t possibly answer him.

“I was just curious,” she said.

Her guardian turned to the housekeeper. “Did you tell her?” he demanded.

“Of course not, sir!” that good woman gasped, her pleasant face wrinkled in concern. “I knew you wouldn’t want the young ladies hearing those old stories.”

“So there are stories about goblins!” exclaimed Kate in relief. “I’d very much like to hear them.”

“Don’t you think you’ve heard enough of them already?” her guardian asked her knowingly, but when Kate gave him a puzzled look, he gave her a puzzled look in return. “All right, Mrs. Bigelow,” he sighed, “we’d better hear the stories again. Maybe then we’ll get somewhere.”

“Well, now,” began the housekeeper hesitantly. “Now, you girls know that I’ve never breathed a word about goblins to you. But the truth is, my own grandparents and the folk they lived among would have sworn to you that there were elves and goblins in these hills. Why, when I was a child, there wasn’t a single one of us girls allowed out of the house after sunset. All because the magical folk, you see, they be creatures of the nighttime, and they can’t see in the day.

“The old folks told us that the goblins would steal a girl if they caught her out wandering in the twilight. They’d drag her away to their caverns under the Hill to be a goblin bride. Her hair would turn white, and the color would fade out of her, and she’d become like one of them creatures herself, nursing some squalling goblin brat in those dripping holes down in the Hill. They always did want the pretty ones, the girls who hadn’t been married, so once we were married, you know, we didn’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Kate remembered Marak commenting on how pretty Aunt Celia had been in her youth, but she had been a widow. “That was a real pity,” he had said emphatically. Now she knew what he had meant.

“No one ever did see the goblins or the elves,” Mrs. Bigelow continued, “or if they did, they didn’t let on to have seen them. They be terrible secretive creatures and powerful with magic, and it didn’t pay to cross them at all. Sometimes, old folks said, they’d hear hunting horns at night, and sometimes sounds of battle, but the wise folk barred their doors and pulled their shutters. You see, the elves and the goblins were here in this land long before us, and folks respected their ways.”

“But what were you girls supposed to do if you did meet a goblin?” asked Kate. “Sneeze, or throw salt in its eyes, or say the Lord’s Prayer?”

“There’s no right way to meet a goblin, dearie,” said the housekeeper. “Staying inside at night was all we could do because they’d not take notice of us then. If a girl was to get stolen, well, she was stolen, is all. Sneezing and salting wasn’t going to help.”

“Did you know any girls who got stolen?” asked Emily hopefully.

“Well, no,” Mrs. Bigelow admitted. “Not that there wasn’t the occasional odd bit of news. A girl might go out for a walk and never come back, and her family would never know what had become of her. But there is one story from my grandmother’s day that always scared us young girls into staying safe indoors, and that was the story of Miss Adele Roberts.

“You see, my grandmother said Miss Adele was as bold as any general, and to tell her not to do a thing was the same as to see her do it. Her playmate Miss Elizabeth was a timid little thing, and it may be that encouraged Miss Adele in her outrageousness. If it was riding the half-broken colt or walking a cliff’s edge, Miss Adele would do it, half for the fun of the thing and half to hear Miss Elizabeth’s frantic screams begging her to stop. But they went everywhere together, and for all her frights and shocks, Miss Elizabeth couldn’t bear to be left at home.

“When they were just about old enough to be thought young ladies, folks warned them to stay safe at home at night, and that right away fired Miss Adele’s ambition. She swore she’d be the first to walk into the goblin caves right through their own front door. She’d catch a goblin with her own bare hands or perish in the attempt. And so, evening after evening of those pretty summer days, she was ranging about the woodlands and fields in the twilight, calling for those goblins to come out and show themselves.