Close Kin (27 page)

The party had been skirting forested
hills for some time, and
Sable could tell
by their excited chatter that the goblins were nearing
home. Now they left the forest to cross rolling
fields again, and she
felt a little relieved. There couldn't be a cave
out here, she thought. But she was wrong.

"Close
your eyes," warned Tinsel. "I don't want you to be fright
ened."
Faint with dread, she felt them walking down a long slope.

When Tinsel
uncovered her eyes, Sable gasped. They weren't in
a field anymore. They were walking through a long, thin
cavern,
and her sky was now black
stone. The light was very bright, and she
could see that not one thing lived here, not a plant,
not a field mouse,
not a bug. They came
to the end of this cavern, and a metal wall
faced
them. They were trapped, thought Sable in a panic. They
would die here
in this dead place.

"Welcome, elf brides!"
boomed a massive voice, and Sable
cringed
in fear. "It's so nice to see pretty elves again." The iron wall
swung
forward, and the party walked through. Then it shut with a
clang. "Do come see me sometimes," it
invited, "even though I can't
let you out."

The next cave was large, and horses
lived in it; Sable could see their long faces poking out from little rooms on
the sides. But the
ceiling of this huge room
seemed so low, she felt as if it were pushing
down to crush her. She felt sick, and she found that she was shaking
from
head to foot.

From the stable they entered a suite
of rooms designed for the reception and marriage of elves, where the goblin men
removed the
Leashing Spell at a large basin of water. They stopped in
a big
square
waiting room decorated with lavish magnificence, the walls and ceiling covered
with golden mosaics of the design that the dwarves liked best. To please the
other races, dwarves sometimes made stone plants and flowers, but they never
understood the point
of making a rock look
like something it wasn't. Their own art aimed
at bringing out the
natural beauty of stone and metal in intricate progressions and patterns of
different colors.

Sable blinked in the bright light and
studied the ceiling right above her, dazzled by the glittering tiles. She
longed for the simple clutter of the forest, with its living creatures, its
gentle movements, and its high, high ceiling of stars.

When she looked
down again, a new goblin was standing before
them.
He was hideous, with eyes of two colors and stiff hair that
rustled and moved like a living thing. His lips
were brown, as if they
were smeared with dried blood; his teeth were
like sharp metal knives; and his skin was dreadfully pale, as if he were one of
the walking dead.

"Welcome, elf brides, to my
kingdom," the corpselike wraith
said
pleasantly. "And while I understand that you aren't yet glad to be
here, you may rest assured that I am very glad to
have you here. An especially warm welcome to Sable," and those eyes slid
to her face.
"It's been many a
long year since we greeted a lord's daughter in this
room." The bicolor eyes, brilliant in that
deathly paleness, bored into her like coals. Sable shivered and hid her face
against Tinsel's chest.

"During the journey,"
continued the voice, "you have had some time to become acquainted with the
bridegrooms I picked out for
you. I don't
expect you to be pleased about your marriages, but if you
have any specific objections to make about your
bridegrooms, I will
be happy to
listen to them and see what I can do. Irina, please come
with me.
Thaydar will wait for you. We'll talk for a few minutes in the next room, and
then you'll come back here."

Marak walked into a small room that
was decorated as lavishly
as the larger one.
Against the far wall stood an elaborate stone
throne that was carved out
of one block. Before the throne was a
stone
table, its gray-veined surface highly polished, and on the other
side of the table was a simple square stool of
stone protruding from
the floor.

Marak crossed to the throne and sat
down on it, considering the elf girl before him. Less sensitive than Sable,
Irina was also better
prepared. She had
been listening to Thaydar's stories about the gob
lin King for the last two nights, and she even knew something about
what
he would look like. Nevertheless, she was taken aback by his bizarre appearance
and by all the unfamiliar sights. She wished Thaydar could be there with her.

"Please sit
down," Marak urged, gesturing to the stool beside
her.
Irina looked at the stone seat without much comprehension.
Elves didn't use furniture, so she wasn't
accustomed to chairs. When
she continued to stand, Marak left the matter
alone.

"Tell me, do you have any
objection to marrying Thaydar?" he asked. "Has anything he's said or
done upset you?"

Irma's eyes were wandering in a
bewildered manner around the room and back to him. She had thought she
understood what her
new life would be like,
but now she was beginning to doubt it.
Maybe Sable was right. Maybe
Thaydar had just been telling her what she wanted to hear.

"He said -- he said -- that I
wouldn't have to butcher," she stammered, looking at the King a little
anxiously.

"That upset you?" asked
Marak, amused. But he didn't laugh. Kate had specifically warned him not to.

"Oh! No,"
amended Irina. "I really hate to butcher."

"I promise you won't have
to," said the goblin King graciously, and the girl relaxed a little.

"Do you like
Thaydar?" he asked with interest.

"Oh, yes," confided Irina. "He knows all
kinds of things, and
he's
just so strong and scary, and he doesn't ever let anybody tease me."

"Did
my goblins tease you?" asked Marak in surprise.

"No,"
said Irina, "but he would have pummeled them if they
had. And he said I
could have, oh, all kind of things, dresses and
mirrors and presents." She looked at the goblin King hopefully.
She
was starting to regain her confidence.

"He'll give
them to you," promised Marak. "Thaydar is a very
important goblin in this kingdom, and he can have
anything he
wants. You're right that he knows things. He's my military
com
mander, and he advises me. If I were to
die, he would take over run
ning the kingdom until my son was old enough
to rule."

"Oh," said
Irina, tremendously impressed. Kings and kingdoms sounded so grand.
"Thaydar says I'm pretty," she told him with innocent satisfaction.
"He says I'm the prettiest thing he ever saw."

"I'm sure he wouldn't lie," commented the
goblin King helpfully.

'Am I the
prettiest thing you ever saw?" she asked. Marak fixed
her
with a thoughtful gaze.

"No," he
answered steadily. "My wife is the prettiest thing I
ever saw."

Irina
considered this.

"I think
that's so sweet," she said, beaming at him. Marak
propped
his chin on his hands and gave her an encouraging smile.

"So you don't mind marrying
Thaydar," he concluded. "Is there
anything
else that's worrying you? Anything you'd like to mention?"

"There is one thing," she
confessed reluctantly. "I'm not old enough to be married yet, not for six
months."

"So
you're seventeen?" inquired the goblin King.

"I know,"
said Irina.

"I think
it would be fine for you to be married now," said Marak
cautiously,
watching her face. "Does that bother you?"

"No,"
answered the elf girl carelessly. "Thaydar says it's just a lot
of nonsense."

Marak
grinned. "I'm sure he's right," he said. "Thaydar knows
all kinds of
things."

∗ ∗ ∗

The group waited
quietly in the large room. Long stone benches ringed the walls on three sides,
but no one sat down.

The door opened, and
Irina emerged.

"Sparks came
out of my hand," she giggled to her bridegroom. "That's
wonderful!" said Thaydar warmly.

Seylin smiled
to himself It wasn't exactly wonderful. Marak had
tested
her for magical ability, and she was moderately but not thrillingly gifted.
Emily sighed. When he had tested her, not even one spark had shown up.

"Sable,"
called Marak from the door. He could tell that the other
elf
was almost fainting with fear. Excellent, he thought with well,
concealed glee. Her magical instinct was alert to
the danger of goblin
s, the same sixth sense that had kept Kate fighting
to stay away from him. Sable was an aristocrat, there was no doubt about it.

It's a trick, thought Sable, beside
herself with dread. She would
go through the
door, and they would lock her up; they would torture
her and work
horrible magic. When Tinsel let her go, she clung to his hands.

"It's all right," he told
her in a low voice. "I'll be waiting right here."

She remembered her dignity. She
walked quietly into the small room, her eyes on the floor, somehow managing to
pass the goblin
King. She didn't look around
as Irina had because she didn't want
to see what was coming. When she
heard the door shut behind her,
she closed her eyes tightly. Marak walked by
her and around the table, studying her attentively as he passed.

"Sable, please sit down,"
he invited. "And you'll need to open your eyes in order to find your
seat," he added helpfully.

Sable stole a
quick glance around the room, found the stone
stool,
and sat down on its edge, head down, clutching her hands together tightly.

"The direct
descendant of the noble family Sabul," mused
Marak,
looking at his prize capture with acquisitive eyes. "One of the elf King's
eighteen camp lords, among the highest of the high elves. There is nothing in a
goblin King's power that I wouldn't do to make you happy in your marriage and
happy in my kingdom. And look at me when I speak to you," he added
pleasantly. "That's how business is conducted."

Sable glanced up at
him, wincing. Marak smiled at her.

"That's better," he said.
"I don't look as bad as you think. I want
you to be happy, Sable. I want it very badly. So why don't you tell me
what's
bothering you because you don't look very happy at the moment.

"I can't
live down here!" she burst out desperately. "Nothing
lives here, not a tree, not a blade of grass. I can't
even remember how
many doors are
between me and the stars now, and I can't breathe anymore!"

"Spoken
like a true elf," remarked the goblin King approvingly.
"We'll take those problems one at a time. The
feeling of not being able
to breathe is called
claustrophobia, and it's very common in new elf
brides. The thing to remember is that air can pass freely through
spaces
where you are not permitted
to go. Even in small rooms like this one,
you can usually feel moving air. Do this." He held his hand up in
front
of him, and Sable raised her
shaking hand to copy. She could feel a
tiny breeze flowing past it, and
her breathing relaxed slightly.

"Blades of
grass. We have lots and lots of those, and we have lots
of
sheep that eat them. We don't allow either one indoors, but you
can visit them anytime you like. Trees. We don't
have any real trees,
but we do have a grove of pretend trees put in for
the sake of the elves. They won't fool you, but you may find they do you a
certain
amount of good anyway, and if you
decide you don't like them,
please do
me a favor and don't breathe a word of it to the dwarves.

"Stars,"
he continued. "Stars we don't have, no stars of any
kind. Elf brides in the old days simply had to live
without them, and
they
weren't happy about that. But you don't have a race of kinsmen
outside
waiting to liberate you, so I think I can offer you a compromise. As long as I
see you trying to settle into kingdom life, I'll
let you go outside for the night of each full moon. Do you think that
will help make up for the lack of stars?"