The Goblin's Heir

Chapter Sixty One: Empty Vessel

The brush of his fingers accidently grazing my cheek made me flinch shoving me back to my senses. "Leave me." I shooed him away pushing away his hand. "Go help Cerise. She needs you more than I do."

The look of hurt on his face lifted a little as his eyes lingered on where I still held his arm, I had not shoved him away as I had wanted, but held him there at my side. "Okay, Mama." He said softly and rose to race over to where Cerise was laying.

Shakily, I lifted up onto my knees and dragged myself closer to Hughes. He was still alive. I could hear his characteristic grunting, now more from pain than annoyance. "Are you still among the living, Willy?" I asked him, feeling a bit of relief when I could hear Cerise complaining about her head hurting.

"You're never going to stop that, are you?" Hughes groaned, lifting a bloody hand from his chest. His shirt was soaked in red, but the fact that he was speaking was a good sign. "Shit that hurt."

I gingerly peeled back a ragged piece of his shirt and took a look at the damage. "It doesn't look too deep actually. I was expecting your ribs to be split open. Nothing some stitches won't fix."

"Good to know. It certainly feels like he ripped open my chest." He sighed, letting his hand back down to press against the wound. His eyes shifted toward where Bran had fallen. The spearhead still protruded from his skull. We both watched him for a moment. It felt strange to see such stillness in him, for his chest not to rise or fall, for his fingers not to twitch, his wings not to fold against his back. He looked like a crow knocked from the tree with a stone. 

"Is he truly dead?" Hughes asked, the look on his face that of bitter remorse.

"He is." I swallowed not quite believing those words myself. "You did very well. I was expecting you to run away, to be honest, but you did as I asked. You didn't hesitate. I was mildly impressed."

"I'm an old soldier, remember?" His eyes met mine again. "I'm good at following orders. You're a good leader. When I think of a queen, I imagine a woman in a fancy dress, giving speeches from an ivory tower, but clearly that's not the kind of queen you are. You act more like a general."

"Goblins value strength. Both king and queen fight with their soldiers. This isn't my first fight. It's not even my second."

"Humans could learn a thing or two from them then."

"Bran?" Came a cracking voice over the loud murmuring of the humans pouring into the city and the shrieks of the goblins being fought back from the gate. 

I bristled at the sound of Cat's voice. I staggered to my feet and went as quickly as I could to intercept her before she saw his body.

I moved too slowly. As Cat and Ib emerged from the crowd of survivors, I could see the change in her expression when the blow struck her. The color drained from her face in an instant. The scream came in the next breath. The tears came with it, pouring down her filthy, sweaty face. "Bran!" She wailed lunging toward him.

I grabbed her by the arms, putting myself between them. "You don't need to see anything more than you already have."

"What did you do!" She screamed at me, fighting my firm grip. She could've tossed me to the side easily. She was so much stronger than I was now, but she didn't. I think part of her didn't want to see him.

"He'd lost control, Cat. I did the only thing I could do." I squeezed her arms lowering my voice to a soft breath. "I'm so sorry."

"That's a lie!" She snapped, sobbing uncontrollably now. She pitched forward and despite her anger, she let me hold her. She wept into my shoulder as I pet her long hair. Ib approached  us slowly, his gaze stuck on what he could see of Bran behind me. A twisted wing, a pair of black boots. A still white hand tinged blue at the tips of each finger. "Don't get any closer." I pleaded with a shake of my head.