White Stag (Permafrost #1)(14)

I stayed on the ledge by the chasm until Soren found me. He inhaled deeply, detecting the others who’d been here with me. When I looked hard, his features changed to something angular and sharp, more monster than person. But it was gone in a flash.

“Aleksey was here, wasn’t he?” he asked, peering over the chasm.

“He probably still is.”

“He’s no use to me dead. Which brings us to why you felt the need to throw Aleksey over the side of the chasm. I could understand Franz—I never liked the annoying shit—and Helka asks for it, but—”

“Aleksey was plotting to kill you,” I blurted out. Too loud. Too much emotion. I should’ve said it calmly or not at all.

Soren didn’t spare the chasm another glance. “And you killed him? Or almost, I think he’s still alive. Poor bastard broke his spine. Slow deaths are the worst, aren’t they?”

I winced. I didn’t think when I threw him into the chasm that he might survive. I didn’t think at all, only acted. “Well, it isn’t the first time.”

“No, it isn’t,” Soren said, looking me over slowly. He must’ve thought I was pitiful, hunched over myself like a child. “But that’s not the reason why you did it.”

“Your death doesn’t do me any favors.”

His lips twitched, and he came to sit beside me. Only then did I notice the weapons—two daggers of different lengths strung across his back in a holster, a quiver attached to his belt, a bow across his chest, a hunting knife neatly tucked into a sheath by his boot—and the heaviness of his outfit. Hunting leathers, for sure, but also a dark cloak made of bearskin and fur-lined leather gloves. From underneath the falling hood, his white hair was braided in the style of a goblin hunter.

“Janneke,” he said softly, “are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He looked like he didn’t quite believe me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

He sighed. “Don’t you trust me?”

I didn’t dignify that question with an answer.

So instead, Soren moved behind me and began weaving his fingers through my hair, skillfully crafting the same braids he wore. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched my hair, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity as he braided it, reminding me of another world as the sky began to brighten and my eyes began to close.





4


BEGINNINGS


THE SUN GLINTED off the icy river—one of the only ones that ran fast through Soren’s territory as far as I knew. Though the sheen of ice was bright in the daylight, I knew the water underneath was swift. Swift water bothered goblins; I’d known that even in the human world. The different lands and creatures were aware of one another, after all, despite the magical and predatory nature of those across the border.

It’d been more than a year since Lydian’s attack on me and the destruction of my village. I’d gotten used to the odd culture of the place, both uplifting and backstabbing at the same time, and understood the best ways to be useful and spend my time.

But I did not have any special skills that goblins needed. I couldn’t embroider or make pottery or weave cloth. I could hunt and fight, but goblins didn’t need someone to do things they already excelled at. So I wasn’t surprised when Soren asked to speak with me. But I was surprised when my new job basically meant I’d be by his side at all times.

I was surrounded but not by my own kind. There were few humans in the halls of Soren’s manor, and all of them were normally busy with whatever tasks they’d been entrusted to do. In the times I wasn’t by Soren’s side, helping him with training or lending my voice to matters he asked my opinions on, I found myself alone with free time I didn’t know what to do with. When that happened, I observed. Sometimes I escaped from everyone in order to let myself delve into the hatred and anger that burned deep inside of me, directed at myself.

Which led me to the river. The only place where none of the goblins went and the place where I could be without stares and whispers and brutal snarls.

The Permafrost could be called beautiful if I forgot what creatures dwelled here. In the sunlight, the snow glittered and the blue sky was the color of robins’ eggs. The forest I’d found dead when I was first brought here was more alive than I thought, the wind whispering through the skeleton trees and hardy little animals climbing through the undergrowth to scavenge what they could. They were survivors, like me. This world had more life in it than I’d originally thought, and there was even a beauty to it that I found I could love … if I could forget why I was here in the first place.

“So this is where you go.” I froze at the voice. I hadn’t heard Soren come up behind me. Why was he looking for me? Did I forget something? My mind began to race.

“Excuse me?” I asked when I found my voice.

“You always go off when you have free time, and no one can ever figure out where. I decided to find out.” The goblin lord sat beside me, and I stiffened, daring to look at him through the side of my vision.

His clothes were drenched in sweat, and the muscles in his arms were tense. He must’ve come from some type of chore that he preferred to do himself. I stared at the bulk of his arms, thinking how easily they could hold me down, immobilize me … then I snapped out of the poisonous thoughts. He’d given me no reason to fear him … much.