The Goblin's Heir

Chapter Seventy Nine: Matilda

The City of Thorns sang with the jovial voices of thousands greeting their returned dead. Wives kissed fallen husbands who returned to them miraculously whole and new. Parents wept over children they'd lost, tears of pure joy pouring down their faces. The same stunned happiness showed on my children's faces even if it was tainted by the echo of loss. One parent had been returned to them, but not the one that had been gone the longest. 

The goblins had stopped their onslaught and their own returning dead followed them in their retreat back into the hollows and tunnels of the Underground, leaving the world oddly quiet and full of light. 

Snorri carried me like a small child in his arms allowing me to rest my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beat and his lungs fill with breath, his body wholly real. There was something different about the goblins, I thought, cutting my eyes to the returned Agi perched on his shoulder just above my head. I couldn't quite place what it was. There was less of something behind his eyes and also more. More than just will. More than just sentience or intelligence. 

"Did it feel good to punch that god in the face?" Agi rasped, their grin curling up toward their floppy ears. Their hairless tail thrashed about happily.

"Better than you can imagine." I smirked weakly as my old guard cackled. "She's had it coming for a long time."

We found that the council tower had been turned into a mecca for the dead to reunite with their families. The streets around it were packed with people openly sobbing as they clung to each other. As we walked towards it, the people looked up. They moved out of our way at the first sight of us, their gazes frozen on me, their jaws gone slack. They bowed their heads, breathing a heavy thanks into the wind as we passed, the dead dropping to their knees and their families swiftly following suit. They knew who I was. They knew what I had done, what I had given up that had made their return possible and in the moment, this was the only way they knew how to show their gratitude. I found I didn't like it as much as I might have when I was young.

Hughes, like so many around him, clutched his family desperately to him. Both grown daughters and the grandchildren that had been eaten alive when the goblins first appeared in the human lands. Margaret and Jane laughed as they cried and embraced their father in equal measure. Another woman was with them, this one older with greying blond hair who embraced him along with his daughters. Hughes kissed the tops of his grandchildren's dark curls, his cheeks wet and eyes bloodshot red. He glanced up as we neared, his face going slack with shock. With an effort, he excused himself and staggered towards us. 

"What did you do?" He gasped, starting at me. "How?" He gestured helplessly at the crowding tower, the bloodied shrouds that had covered the dead in neat rows now lay empty. 

"I punched god in the face." I laughed weakly then promptly fainted once again.

I blinked awake and sat up on in bed, feeling thoroughly rejuvenated for once. A great weight was gone from my spine. I was back in the little house I'd used as we traveled in Thorns to the higher branches. I rested back against the pillows, relishing the feeling of the warm sun coming in through my window where it lit my cheek. Hughes sat at the table by my beside, scribbling in his notebook feverishly. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked, my voice low from lack of use. 

Hughes lifted his head from his hand and turned to me, laying his pen down and abandoning his work entirely. "Three days."

"Less than I thought." I muttered. 

Hughes stood abruptly and reached for his jacket on the back of his chair. "I'll go get you something to eat. You must be starving."

"Don't go." I said. He stopped in his tracks, meeting my gaze with a soft stare. I patted the spot next to me. "Stay with me a moment. I can eat later."