The Goblin's Crown

Chapter Fifty Six: The Owl's Nest

I ran.

I ran through a thick wood of dead trees. Their black branches sliced at my skin and ripped my golden ballgown, shredding it until it became a tired old rag. My beautiful hair had been shorn away. It stuck up on my head in sprigs and clumps. My back seared with pain from deep lash wounds that crisscrossed my spine.

Three mad dogs chased after me, two spotted hounds and one wolf-like one, its fur the color of ink. They snarled and howled as they snapped at my heels, foam dripping from their mouths.

Before me, a large white tree loomed, growing taller and broader with each fleeing stride.

As I passed beneath its branches, the two hounds went up in flames. They howled in pain for a split moment, then disappeared into plumes of smoke and ash. The black wolf leaped into the sky, leaping over me. It landed soundlessly at the tree's base. Its form elongated and wiggled before me, transforming into a black serpent. Round and round it circled up the tree's wide trunk. When it reached the middle, it bit onto its own tell, forming a continuous loop.

My bloody bare feet came to a stop at the tree's base. I glared up at those pale branches, baring my teeth between bruised lips. "This was all according to your plan, wasn't it you horrid weed?" I hissed. "That's why you stopped me from killing Jasper before. This was his purpose? To torture Knut? To blind him? Why?"

"You misunderstand." Agi bounded from branch to branch above me until it reached the lowest one. Agi sat on its haunches, watching me with its beady eyes, its tail swishing from side to side lazily. However, Agi was not who spoke. The rat-ish terror was The Hollow's favorite vessel. "Your purpose and his are intertwined." Agi's mouth spread wide. Its teeth showed, glistening with wet blood."They always have been."

I awoke with a gasp. Stale, cold air that reeked of rot rushed into my lungs. They seized in protest, forcing a coughing spell that had me on the verge of gagging once again. I took steady shallow breaths in an effort to calm myself as the true horror of my situation became evident.

Athane had not taken me to Mab's palace to be tossed into a dungeon cell with my poor, mangled husband.

She'd brought me home with her instead.

Her house was meant for a giant with walls made of overlapping and entwined twigs. The ceilings were as high as that in a cathedral. Yet, the massive space still felt cramped. It was packed with things. There were crates stacked upon each other from floor to ceiling lining the walls, trunks overflowing with clothing from every kingdom be they human or fae. Necklaces baring dazzling jewels hung from the rafters, sparkling like stars in the night sky. What space there still was, was overtaken with random junk. An assortment of dusty furniture, fading rugs that over overlapped each other until they formed a sea of clashing patterns over the floor, broken farming tools, and towers of books that gave off a distinct stench of mildew. The only space that one could even occupy was the very center where two large wooden chairs sat close to a hearth. It blazed with a roaring fire. A black kettle had been set inside. I could hear it bubbling. Soon, I knew, the owner of this house would come to check it.

I'd been sealed inside of a jar that sat out on display on a brightly painted green shelf. Beside me, in rows on either side were other jars, each filled with its own doomed and long dead prisoners.

I stared into the jar to the right of me into the empty eye sockets of a skeleton dressed in a twelfth-century gown. A yellowing veil was still stuck on her head, her face still contorted into an expression of immense fear.

That dried out corpse would be me if I did not find a way out of this mess.

I tried to climb up the side of the glass jar, but my feet could get no traction. The walls were too slick. Each time I tried, I slid right back down.