Reign of Ice (Forever Fae #4)(63)

I could feel him nod and tense behind me when the two giant Redcaps stopped us at the entrance. “Who are ye?” one of them said in a gruff voice. The blood from his cap ran in rivulets down the sides of his face. He smelled of raw meat and the metallic scent of the blood pulsing out of his cap.

“I am looking for Gothin,” Bastian announced. “I was told he was the one I needed to find. I have a gift for the sorcerer.”

The other Redcap approached from the other side and poked me in the leg with his pikestaff, piercing my skin through the leather pants I was wearing. The blood pooled by the wound and slowly drifted down my leg. Before the blood could fall to the ground, the Redcap took off his cap and soaked it up like a starved animal. Bastian growled low in his throat and held me tighter while I held my breath, hoping that it wouldn’t come down to a fight.

When the Redcap placed the cap back on his head, he closed his eyes, releasing a contented sigh, and staggered forward as if he was drunk. “Aye, tis a nice gift ye have there,” he said admiringly.

“So can we pass?” Bastian questioned impatiently through clenched teeth. I could feel the anger emanating off of him, and I knew that if they didn’t let us pass he was going to attack.

The Redcap who took my blood immediately stepped aside and replied, “Aye, ye can pass.” The other one glanced at us warily before slowly moving out of the way and letting us go.

Without wasting any time, Merrick, Bastian, and I entered on our horses and steadily made it through the camp. There were creatures everywhere: faeries, trolls, Redcaps, leprechauns, dwarves, and even some elves. They all stared at us like wolves as we sauntered past them, and I prayed that they wouldn’t stop us. I couldn’t believe the amount of people who had turned on our courts.

“Just keep going,” Merrick assured us. “Do not stop until we get to Gothin. I know where he’ll be.”

We followed him until we got to the massive tree which stood as the sorcerer’s private dwelling. Merrick had been in this exact same spot years ago when he and Ryder were waiting to save Calista. It was the same day he died, the same day my sister’s heart broke. Bastian dismounted and inspected the wound on my leg from where the Redcap punctured me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I gazed down at my leg, and since we healed fast the wound had already started to close up. I nodded and answered him, “Yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt as much as it pissed me off. I was afraid we were going to fight.”

“I thought so, too. I did not like what he did to you at all.”

I smiled up at him. “I’ve had worse done. Believe me.”

“All right, you two, let’s go,” Merrick called. “We need to find Gothin before the sorcerer finds you.” He stared at various places in the village and then pointed to a building off to our right. “And I do believe we will find the troll in there.”

“Why is that?” I asked, hooking a glance over my shoulder.

Oh, that’s why. It didn’t take me long to figure it out. The place looked like a dingy bar, all dark and disgusting, with nasty drunken men that you would see in the mortal realm. What made it even more like that were the trolls gathered around outside, toppling over each other with mugs of liquid in their hands. They were celebrating, and I knew why.

Bastian whispered in my ear, “I’m not going to hurt you, but go along with what I do. When we find Gothin we need to get him alone.”

“And then kill him,” I finished for him.

Taking my arm, he pulled me along behind him as we approached the building. Trolls were hideous creatures—with their warty faces, bad teeth, and various sized bodies—who probably never saw a bar of soap in their life. You could smell them from a mile away, and the ones here definitely didn’t disappoint. Some of them were short and stocky while some were tall and lean. Out of all the creatures in the land it made me wonder how a disgusting creature like a troll could ever be the sorcerer’s right hand man.

Ascending the steps, I followed behind Bastian and entered into the dank building that smelled of trolls and urine. The whole room fell silent as they spied us. “I’m looking for Gothin,” Bastian called out.

All heads turned to the one troll at the back table who was sandwiched in by two faerie women. They looked worn and haggard, and immediately my hackles rose. An overwhelming sense of disgust swarmed through my body. I wanted to rip him in two and laugh while I did it. I wanted to save them, to get them out of this hell hole that they’d probably been living in for years with no hope of ever being saved.

Bastian gripped my hand tighter and shook his head. “Patience,” he whispered. “We will get them out of here.”

Gothin stood and eyed me curiously as we approached him. He had pointed, rotten teeth, and still smelled foul like the others, but also happened to be dressed better than them, too. “What do you want?” he grunted. “As you can see I am busy.”

Bastian jerked me forward and pushed me toward the troll. “I have a gift for the sorcerer. I think he would find her to his satisfaction.”

“Indeed,” Gothin approved.

Dismissing the faerie women with a flick of his hand, he narrowed his gaze and ran his dark, beady eyes up and down my body like a vulture, while rubbing his scruffy chin. “Yes, I think she will do just fine. I can take her from here,” he insisted greedily, licking his lips. “The master is not here for the time being, but she will be happy in my care until he returns.”