The Goblin's Heir

Chapter Sixteen: Final Farewells

I stood in the middle of The Hollow's arena as around me my children clawed and bit at each other. Floki bashed Frit's head against the ground. Odd ripped open Cat's throat with his teeth. Blood drenched the arena and covered me. I could feel it on my cheeks, taste it in my mouth. The lifeblood of my children. The most precious things in my life. At my feet...at my feet Knut lay, his chest ripped open and guts pulled out, staring up at me with both eyes, both whole and equally empty of life. The seed was gone. I wept into bloody hands, despairing at its loss, calling out a name in a shriek that made my throat burn and bleed as the cries of a newborn rang in my ears.

"Magni!" I woke myself screaming, jolting upright. I was drenched in sweat and my breath was ragged and panicked. "Shit." I spat, sucking air into my lungs desperately. "Goddamn it." I swallowed spit, trying to soothe my aching throat. I dried my face with my nightgown and pushed my wet hair back from my face. Looking over at Knut, I was amazed that he was still asleep. He laid on his stomach, one arm strewn over my lap.

With quivering fingers, I brushed a lock of his dark grey hair behind a pointed ear. His face was so relaxed when he slept. It softened his sharp edges, made him look younger, almost boyish. "Mouse," Knut muttered in his sleep, unconsciously nudging his face into my hand. I smiled softly at this unknowing gesture. How he leaned towards me and sought me out without knowing it just as I did him. The unwanted thought that he would soon be unreachable almost made me vomit. 

I moved to the edge of the bed, covering my mouth with my hand as a wave of nausea knocked me breathless. I sat there, breathing in and out through my nose, wishing I'd just stop, that my breath would cease and my heart would fall shriveled and lifeless to the bottom of my rib cage. Anything to keep from living this day and all the days yet to come. My eyes slid toward my bedside table where my knife sat waiting. It was the original one. The one I had so often tied my pendant around, the one I kept on my person always. 

I don't remember ever even reaching for the knife. It was just suddenly in my hand and I was walking through that meandering path through the lowest tunnels towards The Hollow, that cathedral to beginnings and ends.

I heard voices as I passed The Hollow's gaping wound. Frit's unmistakable laugh, mingling with the clashing of practice swords. The children were already awake, practicing for the battle that was only a few short hours away. I didn't linger there, though my heart longed for them. My feet carried me deeper into The Hollow's forest, out of earshot of my children, stopping only when I'd come to the place where we'd spread Magni's ashes, where Knut would soon rest.

I didn't cry as I sank to my knees in the ash-rich soil. I felt no despair when I raised my knife. When I pressed the blade against the soft flesh over my heart, I was quite numb. And yet, I hesitated. I wanted this, wanted this blessed end as much as I had once coveted gold coins. But the blade shook in my hands and would not press further, refusing to let me plunge it through my broken heart. With a roar of frustration, I hurled the knife from me. It struck against old Frode and fell into the dirt, lost in a sea of dead children. 

"So this is what's become of the Iron Empress." Sucking in a sharp breath, I scrambled to my feet and turned to face him. Bran stood there in the place the knife had fallen with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "In a million years I never thought I'd see you break. I thought you forged of stronger stuff."

"Are you here to take me to your master?" I asked, clenching both hands and teeth. 

"Hardly," Bran frowned. "I've come to ask what the hell you think you're doing."

"I can't watch them die," I moaned with pain. "I can't. I'm not strong enough to go through that again." 

"So you're going to destroy them instead? Have you thought of what it would do to them to find their mother this way, dead by her own hand? Or Knut?" His ice colored eyes narrowed at me. "Did you even think of them at all?"