The Goblin's Crown

Chapter Thirty Four: The Snake that Bit its Own Tail

The great and powerful goblin king, dressed in his fearsome headdress of beast skull and hide, his chest bare and painted with blood, brushed sweaty golden locks from his wife's face and asked, "What would you have me do?" Though every instinct he possessed screamed at him to protect me, he chose instead to allow me to have my way and let me do my part.

My knife, with the iron pendant wrapped around the blade, felt deliciously good in my hand. I clutched it to my heaving breast as Ask held me. "It's...looking for prey. We're...the only.... ones that bleed. It'll follow us...lead it away...deeper into the Underground." My lips curved. "Save the goblins....as many as we can...then get me...in front of it.... I'll do the rest."

"You've cooked up some scheme no doubt. One I doubt I'll like."

"You wouldn't...It'll be fine. Trust me." I said.

A long-suffering sigh escaped his lips, followed by a short chuckle. "Very well. I know better than to try to stop you." Gently, he took me from Ask. Effortlessly, he cradled me against his chest with one long arm, leaving the other free to wield his spear. He bent his legs, drawing his body low to the ground. I felt his muscles tense, growing taunt like the drawn string of a bow. Then he launched us up into the air. He darted across the city, leaping from building to building, heading straight for the serpent.

The goblin women slashed and clawed at the snake, keeping its attention on them. The woman in red spat fire at it. The flames rolled over the serpent's black scales, making them glow orange and yellow with heat like metal in a forge. The young girl in green threw herself at the beast, scraping her talons along its spine, laughing hysterically as she toyed with it. Unhurt, but furious at being interrupted from its banquet, the snake snapped and hissed, its one remaining eye burning like a flame.

A humming rang in my ears. I felt heat roll through Knut's chest beneath my cheek as magic moved through his veins, coursing straight into the hand that gripped the spear. Electricity sparked and flashed around the spear's golden point. Skidding to a stop at the entrance of one of the tunnels, he lifted his weapon and point it at the snake with a daring look in his eye, challenging the thing without a word. His mouth opened and a furious scream burst out, demanding the thing's attention, and a bolt of lightning shot from the spear. It arched across the sky, bathing the city in light. The lighting slapped against the serpent's cheek. It shrieked with surprise, swaying into a building, destroying it. Rubble fell into the streets, flattening the smaller goblins beneath it. I flinched at the sight, focusing instead on keeping myself breathing. It was so difficult to get air into my lungs now. I felt as if the snake were sitting on my chest.

"You think that got its attention?" Knut sneered. The snake 's head whipped around to glare at us as it righted itself. It shrieked and shot forward, swooping through the city streets like a torrent of flood waters.

"Mmmhmm," I answered.

We took off down the tunnel with the snake snapping at Knut's heels. It was so close, we could feel the heat of its breath enveloping us. "You know, I've been thinking." Knut began, talking normally even while a snake was trying to eat us.

"Oh no." I huffed, sucking in a ragged breath. I shivered in my skin. My skin was like ice, every breath a hell in itself. Faster we needed to go faster. We had to get down into the bowels of the Underground, far away from the city, to buy the goblins time to stop the serpent just in case my plan didn't work.

"How do you like the name, Fritjof, for our first born?" He asked, laughter in his voice. I almost threw myself into the snake's open mouth. We were not having another conversation about babies right now...at the worst possible moment. I couldn't get any more words out, so I couldn't tell him to shut the hell up or express to him what a horrible name Fritjof was. It sounded like a sneeze and a cough mixed together. To my great dismay, he kept going. "It means 'thief of peace'. I thought it would be befitting, considering your dark past and your tendency to start wars. As an added bonus, we could call him 'Frit' for short. Just imagine the embarrassment that would cause him."