The Goblin's Heir

Chapter Forty Two: Flight

Frit placed Wingclipper back into my hand, curling my fingers tight around the grip. His goblin paced the filth covered ground, licking up the gore splattered across the fine rugs. Frit commanded it to kneel. It lowered itself as it gnawed at the dead thing's bones, washing its face with red blood. 

So it was a human. I thought, squinting at the remnants of a skull, at the wisps of black hair and flesh that clung to it. I couldn't even tell if it was a woman or a man. It could even be a child for all I could tell. Torn to bits and eaten within its own home. 

"Up you go." Frit lifted me with ease. I cried out as a sharp pain radiated through my thigh. He stiffened as he set me atop the goblin's back.  "What's wrong?" He asked, sounding panicked, his eyes moving instantly to where my hands had reflexively grabbed for my thigh.

The pain dulled to a constant throb beneath my hands. "It's nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"I'm still sore from my fall, is all," I said, rubbing my hands back and forth along my thigh, easing the sharp pain into a constant throb. "I must've hit it on something or landed on it wrong."

"Your leggings are ripped." He noticed.

"Some goblins got me earlier. Just a few scratches."  I let out a ragged breath. "It's not that bad. It can wait until Neasa can take a look at it."

Frit's scowl deepened in response, but he picked me up again and set me onto his goblin's back, ignoring my whimper of pain. "I swear you're going to be nothing but minced meat by the end of this at the rate you're going." He grumbled, swinging himself up into place in front of me. "Hold on tight." He ordered me and I obediently put Wingclipper back into its sheath and looped my arms around Frit's stomach. 

The goblin rushed out of a massive hole it had left in the house and soared upward to where Cat and the others were spiraling. 

"You found her?" Cat's voice was strained as she swooped around us. She stared at me with disbelief in her dark eyes. "I can't believe you're still alive. I thought for sure..."

"Sorry to disappoint," I muttered. Snorri flew to our side and Frit helped me step back onto his back where I belonged.

"If you don't stop falling off, I'm going to chain you in place," Snorri growled, looking back at me over his shoulder. "I thought you were dead. We all did."

"Not quite." I slapped the top of his bald head gently. "It was just a dizzy spell. I'm just fine, big guy. No need to fret."

"There's blood on your face." He said, staring at me.

I rubbed beneath my nose with the back of my gloved hand, cleaning away the crusting of old blood there. "I said not to worry, Snorri," I said, lending an edge to my voice I hoped he might heed.  I looked around at the faeries fluttering in place at my back. They stared with wide eyes at me, fearful and anxious. I lowered myself over Snorri's body and whispered in his ear. "Ari tried to talk me out of pursuing Magni. She was afraid we were drawing too close...he must be here..." I straightened and turned toward the tall tower off in the distance. "Let's finish this. We have to take that tower." 

I returned to my post on the other side of the flock of Unseelie from Frit while Cat took up the rear and we continued on our way toward the tower, following what was the main road. It was hard to decipher among the ruins and masses of goblin flesh. 

We kept as high as possible over the city, weaving between the tops of buildings and the precarious points of the thorns. Though goblins could leap from some of the tallest buildings, it was the winged ones that were the greatest threat to us. They came at us in flocks hundreds strong, slamming into our bodies with a ferocity I would've admired beneath my own command. Our weapons continuously moved, slicing through bodies while magic flew from the faeries' fingertips exploding with fire, starlight, and shadow around us.