Chapter 3
"Jane!"
"hmm? Wha?"
"We're about to land sleepy head." My brother Gilbert was sitting next to me in the middle row of the "red eye" airplane, my parents were still sleeping soundly toward the right of the aisle. I stretched out my sore back and neck while yawning and squealing when the pilots' voice came on the intercom.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen we are landing in a small port about twenty miles from Hallow Hill; we are experiencing some difficulties with our system and will be landing shortly. We hope that you had a good time flying with us and hope to see you again shortly. Thank you for flying with UK Airlines." Click.
Hallow Hill? Where was that? Was it close to London? I looked toward a window and noticed how dark it was, seeing only the plane's lights in the inky blackness. I had to wake up Mom and Dad now else it would be difficult to do so when people were exiting the plane. I poked Gilbert and pointed to Mom and Dad; he nodded and reached over the aisle to shake Dad awake. While he did that I tried to get another wink of sleep before we landed, it was going to be a long ride through the night and I was going to need all the sleep I could get.
After a ruffled landing we departed the plane and took a look around the airport.
"Well," my Dad announced to the tired group. "It's eight thirty-six. How about we all get something to eat before we head under way?" Dad proposed.
"That sounds absolutely wonderful. The airplane food was pretty disgusting. But first." I pointed toward the bathrooms; Mom nodded vigorously and followed me on our quest for relief while dad and Gilbert went to order us some food.
"Oh my word!" my mom sighed as she took her jacket from around her waist and put it over her shoulders. "I've always heard England was cold and damp, but I never thought it would be this cold!"
"Mom, we're still inside the airport, they probably have the AC on." I entered inside a stall and heard my mother enter the one next to me.
"In late December?"
"Apparently, Mom."
While I was relieving myself I couldn't help but feel something ominous in the air. I shrugged my shoulders while pulling my pants back on, blaming the feeling on jetlag. I'm going to see Les Miserables in London! I thought cheerfully. What could possibly go wrong? At that moment I swore I felt a bundle of electricity snap when I said that, knowing full well I just jinxed myself. I promised to find a suitable piece of wood to knock on before we leave the airport.
After a good meal of something English-y, my family and I found ourselves inside a bus making our way to the nearest inn which was twenty miles away in Hallow Hill. The bus was pretty full with some of the passengers from our plane (at least I was sure they were). Dad got most of our suitcases up on the shelf and we scattered ourselves to find empty seats on the crowded bus. I sat myself quite snuggly between a fat older woman chattering away with a young boy that looked to be her grandson and a man dressed in a black coat with his hood over his head so I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see where mom and Gilbert sat but I saw my dad sit not too far away from me, and for that, I was grateful.
With passengers safely seated and standing the bus started moving onto the freeway towards the nearest inn. I swear, the bus ride was longer than the plane ride. The old woman talked and talked about her cats back at home in Kensington and how she missed them and how it was a pity that the plane had to land so far away and so forth while the man on the other side of me didn't say a word. Occasionally though, I would glance at him and catch him staring at me and then he would instantly look away. This is kind of weird. But maybe he wants to talk and is too shy? Gathering my courage I looked at him again noticing that he turned his head away almost immediately again.
"Hi." I said kindly. He looked at me and nodded.
"Hello," his voice was pretty deep and silky I noted. I didn't know what else to say but I tried going for small talk.
"Do you live around here?"
"Yes, I live in a town not far from here."
"In Hallow Hill?"
"Yes."
"Cool. Were you on the plane or were you meeting someone?" I think he hesitated a little.
"You could say that I was meeting someone." Hmm. Then I realized something with a gasp.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I forgot to introduce myself. Sorry, I'm pretty jetlagged. My name is Jane Hammerstein."
"That's alright. My name is Marak." He held out his gloved hand, I also noticed that his right hand was kind of larger than his left and in a mitten. He's left handed. I noticed while I shook his hand.
"Marak." It felt a little odd when I said it. "That's not a very common name, does it mean anything?"
"Hmm, not that I'm aware of. I do know it was my father's and grandfather's name, even for many generations."
"So that would make you, what? Marak the twenty-fifth?" I half joked, and lucky for me he chuckled.
"Oh, no, I think we're over two hundred now." I stared blankly at him.
"Oh wow, so all of the guys in your family have been named Marak? And I thought Shakespeare's historian plays were confusing with names." I snorted shaking my head smiling, "What did they do with bothers?" Marak chuckled again.
"There's always been one male in each generation. No conflicting, murderous brothers as far as I know of. You read Shakespeare?" despite myself I smiled rather shyly.
"Oh yes. I've always enjoyed Shakespeare, read most of his sonnets in fact. You read Shakespeare?"
"Oh yes. He is rather famous around here."
"I can imagine." I laughed. We sat in relatively comfortable silence for a time, listening to the small sounds of the bus, and also the jabbering woman, I took the time to study Marak stealing short glances his way. I couldn't tell much of his height because he has sitting down but I imagined he was pretty tall. He looked pretty strong, at least in my point of view; he was broad shouldered and looked a little bulky too. If only I could see his face, I thought idly if not wistfully.
"Enjoying the view?" he asked in amusement, turning to face me. I tried not to blush and looked away quickly, staring at the dirty, sticky floor of the bus.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
"It's alright. I realize that I'm oddly dressed, so I'm used to the curious stares." I nodded, still not looking up. "If you don't mind me asking," My ears perked at his voice and I glanced at him with a curious gaze. "How old are you?"
"Oh," I laughed. "I don't mind the question. I'm 17, turning eighteen pretty soon."
"Hmm you are of age." He said it so quietly that I barely heard it over the noise of the bus and the old lady.
"What?"
"What are you doing here in England?"
"Oh, well. My dad has earned us a weeks' vacation here and managed to get me a ticket to see a musical in London."
"Oh? What musical?" he asked.
"Les Miserables. I'm really happy that my dad managed to get me a ticket. How he managed to do so; I'll never know."
"Some force of nature must have been in a kind mood." He suggested.
"An extremely kind mood!" I remarked idly. "Have you ever seen it?"
"Oh, no." he said a little pensively "No, I have yet to see a musical."
"I'm sorry." I said automatically, he merely shrugged.
"It's not your fault. It is what it is. Have you read the book?" I was about to answer when the bus driver's voice cracked over the intercom.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we are coming to the Hallow Inn now so please start taking down your luggage and prepare to depart the bus."
I saw dad start bringing our luggage down from the shelves, I prepared to do the same with my luggage when Marak stopped me from standing.
"Here; Let me, Jane." He said. But before I could even tell him about the weight, he got my suitcase down with ease. Holy he really is freakishly tall! I could only guess 6' 8" at best. Well, I thought gloomily, being only 5' 3 you'd think people were huge. Dumbfounded I took the suitcase handle from him and whispered my thanks. He only laughed kindly.
"No trouble at all." He sat back down again with a slight sigh. The bus then came to a stop and I looked out the window, Hallow Inn looked more like a 19th century Lodge house than anything. Then I spotted the dark outlines of trees around the Lodge, oh it was a forest, I grinned stupidly to myself. This is so cool! England forests, oh Katie will be so jealous when I tell her about this.
"Oh, Marak! You live around here?" I looked back at him with my stupid smile.
"Yes, if you want I can show you around town tomorrow, if you'd like."
Something about his voice when he said that made me feel like an ice block had found its way into my stomach. However, I wanted to go to the little town and probably go exploring in the forest, and Marak offered to escort me, so there shouldn't be a problem right? But the cold feeling in my stomach didn't agree. I worried my bottom lip. I didn't really pay any attention to it then but I swear when I worried my lip I saw an almost predatory glow in Marak's eyes.
"Um." I said uncertainly. "I don't think I can. My family and I have to be to London tomorrow and I don't really think I'll have time to go sight-seeing."
"Oh, you will, Jane." I tried to suppress the shiver that shot up my spine, I wasn't sure if I liked the certainty in his voice. If only he wasn't wearing that hood, then I could see what he was thinking. But before I could reply Dad came over to me to help me join my family and we left the bus together.
I didn't see Marak again that night, not even when I watched the passengers leave the bus, or even when I looked inside the bus. I realized just how exhausted I was.
Gathering my suitcase in one hand and my carry-on in the other, I hurried with my family inside the Inn. Too tired to notice details, I followed my mother to my room, unlocked the door with an old fashioned key and flopped unceremoniously on the bed, falling asleep instantly. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep were a pair of silver orbs shinning through the window.
Somewhat early the next morning, I found myself in the dining hall for breakfast; hardly daring to eat anything for my stomach was all over the place with excitement! Oh today was going to be amazing! Mom said that we wouldn't be able to leave until Dad found a rental car in the next town, so he wouldn't be back until sometime in the afternoon. In order to kill time, Gilbert locked himself in his room to listen to his Ipod, and Mom went to a nearby market to buy some souvenirs and stuff. She asked if I wanted to come with her but I declined, I wanted to explore around the Inn and the forest around it. I'll be sightseeing and buying souvenirs in London anyway. Saying her goodbyes Mom left me alone to do my own thing for the afternoon. This was all I could ever ask for! A whole morning to myself you'd think that I would do something awesome right? Wrong. I went exploring through the old Inn but found myself distracted by the library. That room was huge! It probably took up half of the entire building! Nearly peeing myself with glee I ran to each and every bookshelf to find something interesting to read. Finally picking out a nameless leather-bound book I hurried to a comfortable plush chair next to the roaring fire place and settled down to read.
Inside the cover it read: Candace Clyde; the owner of the book I assumed. It must be a journal, I thought. I turned the page to the first entry. I felt as if I were trespassing but continued. Journals were meant to be read sometime or other.
January 8th 1917
I did the math in my head, that was nearly 97 years ago
Dear Diary,
Father bought me this book and has challenged me to write in it every day recording the events of the previous day. I'm not very good at writing, (Was she kidding? Her handwriting was gorgeous!) but I'll honor his wish and try to write in this as many times as I can. Today is the day we moved into the famous Hallow Hill, rumored to have housed young girls that disappear.(oooh, really?) Utter nonsense if you ask me. I believe they just make up these stories to make sure that girls don't go wandering about in the middle of the night. But I feel as if I shouldn't test these stories. I don't know what it is but, I'm afraid to go out into the woods. They just seem so dark and ominous. Father says complete nonsense, and that's exactly what I think. But….I'm not sure. I'll write tomorrow Diary.
Goodnight.
Candace Clyde
Feeling a little excited I skimmed over some pages wondering if she said anything else about the forest or even the stories and rumors she heard about. Nothing. She talks about her days at Hallow Hill, the days she spends with her friends and a couple of boys that come to court her. After flipping through the pages, before thinking of putting it down to look for another journal, a particular word in an entry caught my eye. Goblin. Frantically-but carefully-I turned the page to the beginning of the entry. The handwriting looked hurried and had a few ink splatters and smudges from careless writing but all in all it was still legible. I began to carefully read the girl's entry with a curious eagerness.
August 18th 1919
I'm terribly afraid Diary. I'm so utterly afraid, and I'm afraid that you would be the only one that will listen to me. That will actually believe me. Not even my suitor Richard had believed me, he thought me childish to believe in such stories, I laughed with him agreeing but, oh, how I wish he would have believed me! Marak, that wretched Goblin creature! had only been pursuing me for three days and I'm already fearing for my life!
I stopped short on the name; Marak. It couldn't be. It could be just a coincidence. "…I do know it was my father's and grandfather's name, even for many generations." Marak's voice came shockingly clear in my mind. I shook my head. And what did she mean by Marak being a goblin? My heart raced at the thought of fairytale creatures being real but I quickly shook my head. Even if that were true, why was she so scared that she fears for her life? I decided that I'd get my answers in the entry. I continued.
Marak said that he would take very good care of me, even better than Richard ever could! I don't believe him. That man-no! that thing would only take me down underground to his dark and lonely caverns to meet his ugly subjects, only to grow old and have his ugly children! I'll be nothing but a breeding thing! Oh Diary I'm so frightened! He has already tried twice to take me away, but I ran! I ran as hard as I could to here at home in my room and I refuse to leave the manor! Not now, not ever! I fear that I may be scaring my father. He's been so worried about me over the last three days ever since Marak forced himself into my life. I don't know what to do anymore Diary. I've tried telling Father but he only worried even more thinking I'm stressing over moving here. That's not it! Well, maybe I am but not for the reason he's thinking of! I've tried telling Richard but you know how that went. I don't know Diary. I really don't know. I'll write tomorrow. I'll see if I can figure something out.
But that was it. That was the last entry to the journal. There had to be more! I flipped some more pages but had to gently set the book down, feeling in my heart that there wouldn't be any more writings from that poor girl. I looked around the library with my eyes, desperate to get some form of an answer to my questions! What has Marak's great-great-grandfather done to Candace? She said that he already tried to take her away before that one journal entry. And she also said that there were rumors and stories to this place. I was sure that I would find another book about these things here. Standing rather abruptly I power walked to the bookshelf where I found Candace's Journal and looked through every book hoping to find the word legend, or goblin, or even missing girls. No such luck. Slightly annoyed I tried looking for at least some more nameless leather bounds but found none! Frustrated with my luck I walked over to my chair but only to find it occupied with a very tired looking old woman who was looking into the fire. I didn't want to disturb her so I went to look for another seat nearby the fireplace. I found a nice comfortable fluffy looking chair and sat down. After a beat or two, the woman spoke.
"I'm so sorry my dear." She croaked in her thick English accent. "I didn't know this seat was currently occupied." She made a move to stand up but I quickly waved my free hand.
"No, no, no, no! It's alright! Really! You can sit back down." The woman looked a little relieved and carefully replaced herself into the seat with a sigh.
"My name is Margret. And I'm terribly sorry. These old bones aren't what they used to be." She laughed weakly; I just smiled politely.
"My name's Jane, Ma'am." We sat in silence for a while when an idea struck my brain. "Mrs. Margret? Do you know of some legends surrounding Hallow Hill?" I asked sweetly. Margret stared and my disbelieving before she sighed reproachfully. "They always do the research to satisfy their curiosity don't they? Always want to know what horrors await them." She whispered so quietly to herself that I almost didn't hear her.
"I'm sorry?" The old woman waved toward the book in my hands.
"The legends. The stories. The rumors. They all look into these little things and then regret they ever laid eyes on it." Excitement whirled through my head and I tried hard to keep the earnest grin off my face.
"You know the tales then?" Margret nodded wearily.
"Everyone here knows the stories, lass. We have a tradition for when tourists arrive that all females should dress as a boy. You obviously didn't get the memo."
"Will you tell me them? The stories I mean. Do you know what had happened to Candace from 1918?" Margret gave a snort.
"She was taken by them. Just like all of them." She said matter-of-factly. "She did just what you were doing. Doing a little bit of research too till she realized too late that she bit off more than she could chew. And she was such a social little thing, that Candace. That's what hooked his interest in the first place."
"Who, Ms. Margret?" I asked eagerly.
"The King of the underground creatures himself." She whispered with a hint of reproach. "The King of the Goblins."…..I sat there staring at her, my mind drawing a simple blank. She couldn't be serious. Ironically only a few days ago I talked about a king of goblins with my friends, but come on! The Labyrinth was a film of dreams and fairytales! I had a very sudden and disturbing image of Marak with his dark hood in extremely criminally tight pants. I quickly shook that awful thought out of my head while Margret continued, absolutely oblivious to my state. "Every so often the King will be fancied by a pretty little lass here on top of his kingdom, and he'll do everything in his power to drag the poor girl down to make her his wife. No one ever sees the poor lass ever again. The poor little girls would be taken into the depths of the dark, damp caves, never to see the light of day again. All of them growing claws and fangs and developing red eyes too used to the darkness to go into the light again and nursing their screaming goblin brats." She looked down at her old wrinkly hands which held a small item, that I assumed was a necklace. "Just like my sister, Molly." She whispered sadly. I stared at her in horror.
"That's terrible! Why would he do such a thing to her?" Margret only smiled a small very sad smile.
"All creatures need to get it on somehow." Despite the severity and the most horrible sentence to be used, my treacherous mind reverted to the stupid images of Labyrinth. The Goblin King takes poor girls from everything that they care about just so they could fool around? Why is that so surprising? I have the proof in my VCR at home. Another sudden thought shot toward the story of Hades and Persephone. How Hades, alone and bitter, had fallen in love with the goddess of spring and just had to make her his. He opened up the ground beneath her feet in order to grab her and make a mad dash to his underground kingdom with her slung over his shoulder, her crying the whole way. How terribly sad. I looked over at Margret who had been watching me ever so curiously.
"What?"
"You need to watch yourself at all times girl. If you ever meet that Goblin King and if he shows any interest…..well." She waved her hand dismissively. "It might already be too late." When she said this I felt the biggest ice block yet fall into the pit of my stomach.
"How…" I licked my suddenly dry lips. "How late?" She looked at me sympathetically.
"You might as well start saying your goodbyes, dear. You will never leave Hallow Hill. At least not from below." Then she turned to look at the fire, ending any further conversation. Which was fine. My mood to read and to enjoy the rest of my morning was spoiled, I didn't want to talk anyway. I sat there with Margret for a time just looking at the dancing flames before I realized she had fallen asleep. Didn't matter. She was happily sleeping away, without a care in the world. I stewed there in my thoughts for a little longer before going to my room to try and see if I would wake up from this nightmare. No such luck. I tried texting Katie and John but they must still be asleep or something. I never felt lonelier or anymore homesick than I did right then. It was mostly because my best friends weren't replying to me so I threw myself on my bed and laid there for a while until mom and dad got home. Soon my mom knocked on mine and Gil's doors announcing it was time to leave for London. I had never been so happy to leave a place in my life!
Now here we are, back at the beginning when I first started this tale; trying to start the rental car at two in the afternoon trying to depart to London by three-thirty. Oh, this was turning out to be a great day! "Dad," I said with barely controlled frustration "can we just find a bus to take us? Or even a cab? Please?!" My dad turned around in his seat with a huff of annoyance.
"And how much are you willing to pay for that kind of fare?" he snapped.
"As much as is necessary to get to London without having the whole trip be a complete waste of time and money!" I snapped back.
"Oh, I wouldn't call the trip a complete waste," My mother chided. "We only arrived yesterday." I sunk lower in my seat grumbling about how the trip will be a waste if we didn't get our butts down to London soon. But the stupid car just wouldn't start and stubborn dad just wouldn't quit. But having been fed up with the situation—and it was already two-forty—I got out of the warmth of the car with a very frustrated sigh saying that I had enough and tried to swallow down my disappointment. My feet crunched into the snow as I ran to the Inn.
Once inside I ran upstairs into my room and looked through my suitcase to find my music and hunting knife, desperately willing my tears not to fall just yet. When I found my items, I hurriedly exited my room, locked the door and ran out the Inn towards the forest barely noticing the cold and the noisy crunching of snow under my boots. I have always felt a certain comfort when in a grove of trees or even up in a tree bough. I always had a feeling that I could do whatever I wanted and not have to worry about people: like singing. My passion has always been singing, whether it be on stage or just my family, but sometimes I just wanted to sing without anyone listening to me, and the trees provided that. I could sing and act and talk however I pleased and no one would know. Only John and Katie were allowed with me to such a secret place, but sometimes I just liked to be left alone.
When I was safely through the border of the forest I let the tears fall freely. I hadn't a clue to where I was going, I mostly let my feet guide me through the forest, weaving me through the trees without stumbling much. My lungs and legs were burning with protest so I had to stop to catch my breath. I leaned against a tree to do so, gasping in between sobs. It wasn't fair. I was so close to having a simple dream coming true, but now it was too late to even consider leaving anymore. I kicked a fallen tree in frustration! Why did this have to happen? Why was happiness handed to me only to be snatched away through my fingers? Rubbing the tears out of my eyes I kept walking, letting my feet guide me once more.
It was a pretty forest, the fallen logs and ground were covered with powdery white snow. I breathed in the crisp air, smelling the different perfumes of the plants around me and letting them calm me down. I found myself in a small clearing, absolutely surprised and delighted to find myself inside a circle of the greenest grass I have ever seen surrounded by lines and lines of tall trees. Here there were all sorts of wild flowers growing in neat little areas throughout the patch, not a flake of snow to be found. I looked around in amazement, feeling peaceful and calm and strangely, I felt safe too. What better place is there in a forest to be alone? I pulled out my music books and typically picked my Les Miserables book and flipped through the pages, eager to start on some song that might help me forget all about today.
I decided to sing something in a minor key to match my mood and picked Empty Chairs at Empty Tables. Looking around once more to see if anyone was watching, I began to sing. I started off small at first because I still wasn't sure if anyone was passing through the forest and also my voice was pretty croaky and swollen from crying but I gradually became more confident and my voice flowed through the crisp air.
There's a grief that can't be spoken,
There's a pain goes on and on,
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.
Becoming bolder I tried putting more actions with my singing, picturing the scene in my mind.
Here they talked on revolution
Here it was the lit the flame!
Here they sang about tomorrow,
And tomorrow never came.
I walked over to the nearest flower patch before me, picturing a table in the middle and pantomiming that I was leaning on it, letting it support my weight.
From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn!
And they rose with voices ringing!
I felt the lump in my throat again but kept singing.
And I can hear them now!
The very words that they had sung!
Became their last communion
On the lonely barricades
At dawn.
Tears were rolling almost lazily down my cheeks as I imagined the scene before me.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone!
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on!
I felt the fear and grief as I pictured shadows all around me, imagining Marius's pain at this moment.
Phantom faces at the window!
I looked down in front of me, backing up while the hot tears still streaked down my face freezing almost instantly at my chin. But I didn't even notice, I kept singing.
Phantom shadows on the floor!
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more!
I took a deep breath, imagining the shadows coming nearer, their heads cocked to one side in a questioning stance. I shook my head, almost pleading with the shadows.
Oh my friends, my friends! Don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for!
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet
I drew a shaky breath, the letting out with the last phrase as it slipped through my mouth in such a longing and painful grief filled note.
No more.
I paused, gathering shaky breaths as the images began to fade and I was once more in the circle of grass with the music book opened in front of me. I quickly wiped my tears away, "I honestly haven't sung like that for a while." I said to no one in particular. "I wish that I could sing like that at auditions though." Breathing in the forest air I tried picking another song but then I figuratively threw the book over my shoulder. Le Mez is mostly about being miserable and the catchy funny songs were a little too vulgar for my taste, though it would have been wonderful to see all the more. I picked up my jhonka-of-a Disney music book and flipped through that. I decided to start with something heartfelt then I'd get to the more silly stuff later. I sang and acted and quoted to no one but myself and some empty made up audience for hours, not really noticing the light fading away.
I was finishing a song in my Cinderella book, Step Sisters Lament, when I finally did notice the fast approaching twilight and the sudden chill of the December night air racking through my flesh and bone, making me shudder uncontrollably. "Freakin-n-n-nut-t bu-bunnies!" I grumbled through my chattering teeth, "What time is it?" I looked at my phone blinking in the sudden bright light of the tiny screen. "Huh, it's-th-s almost six." I went over to pick up my scattered books when a voice called out from behind me.
"I never knew you had such a lovely voice, little song bird." Startled out of my mind I quickly turned around to see a dark figure leaning against a tree at the edge of the circle of grass. I immediately recognized the black coat and hood.
"Ma-Marak!" I said through my clattering teeth. "What are you-u-u-d-doing here?"
"I was passing by when I heard a siren's song. Thoroughly enchanted I couldn't resist and followed it here." He said dramatically which kind of reminded me of Tamaki from Ouran High School Host Club. I tried to suppress my giggles. "And wouldn't you know it! It led me right to the one person I wanted to see!" Marak gave a chuckle, "Who knew you had such a voice!" I didn't exactly know whether to be offended or pleased so I stayed silent and tried not to blush. Which wasn't exactly a problem when my cheeks were already red and chapped from the bitter cold biting into my tear stained skin.
"What—guh—What were you doing in the forest?" I asked after another shudder raked through my body.
"I could ask you the same question, little bird." He teased "But I'm afraid questions will have to wait. You're going to catch a cold if you're out here too long, Jane." He did something I didn't really expect. He shrugged off his coat and held it out to me, and to my disappointment he had another black jacket that had his hood. I shook my head.
"I can't take you're jacket, Marak. Besides, I'm really not that cold." I hurriedly said before another shiver ran through me. Marak barked a laugh.
"Not cold, huh? Alright, if that's how you feel," Despite what I said, I really was cold and I looked longingly at his coat while he placed it back on, but I quickly composed myself and willed myself to be warm—but failed miserably. Darn my pride! Marak stepped closer to me offering his arm. "Shall I take you home?" I was about to accept the innocent gesture by reaching my hand out when the cold feeling in the pit of my stomach returned, making me remember my conversation with Margret only this afternoon. I felt even more cold and nervous. I took back my hand.
"Thank you, but no." I ignored his offered arm and his obvious stare through his hood to walk around him and through the line of trees. Marak came up beside me pretty quickly causing me to yelp in surprise.
"Oh? And why not little bird?" I was really getting tired of him calling me that.
"I don't want to trouble you. And I don't think a little bird would want to hang around a fox for too long." I mentally applauded myself for coming up with something like that until Marak started to laugh. It wasn't a warm laugh though, it was more mocking; a laugh that villains in the movies made. Like Loki in the Avengers. A shiver ran up my back but I suspected that this time it wasn't from the cold.
"Oh, Jane. How could you have figured this out so quickly? Actually why am I surprised by this? Some women would have figured it out too late but, oh no! Not little Jane." I didn't like his Loki sounding tone; it was starting to creep me out. "Alright. I'll escort you back then." I absolutely had no idea what he was talking about but I didn't want to question him further. So we walked in silence for a while until it got too dark for me to see.
"Ouch!" I exclaimed as I tripped over my umpteenth root. "Arg! I can't see!" I felt strong and surprisingly warm hands grip my shoulders and Marak's soothing voice tickled my ear.
"Here, let me guide you, Jane. Trust this fox long enough to guide you to your nest, my little bird." I wanted to shove him away, but I did as he said, somehow I felt like he could find the way. I walked beside Marak, listening to our footsteps and his almost silent breathing. Here and there Marak would guide me through isles of bushes and help me balance on logs to get across the clearing. I knew I had to trust him to help me find my way, but it was hard! And thankfully we were at the edge of the forest and I could see warm light streaming through the windows of the Hallow Inn. Relief flooded through me as we started walking up the path to the door but Marak stopped before the lights of the Inn could reach him.
"Well, you're back to your nest." I really, really wanted to tell him off. "Good night, Jane. See you soon." He turned around and started to walk away but my stupid curiosity made me call out to him.
"Marak." He stopped, turning around to look at me through his hood. That darn hood. "I trusted you enough to help me through the forest. For that I'm really grateful. But, uh…" I bit my lower lip; I didn't really know if I wanted to ask. This time I did catch the predatory look in his eyes when I bit my lip. And it scared me. But Marak laughed again.
"Oh I know what you want to ask, Janie dear." He said, stepping a little closer to me with his hands behind his back watching my intensely. "You want to know what's under my hood, hmm?" He walked closer to me. He then said in a teasing voice "I'll show you, if you say please." I looked at him with a not impressed face for a minute before replying.
"Not worth it." I stated without enthusiasm. I turned to walk away when Marak's sure voice made me stop.
"You're never going to get a more fine opportunity than this, Janie." I turned around again to see his gloved hand grab the fabric of his hood and pull it away from his head. "Because the next time you see me like this would be when I sweep you off your feet." I stared at his face in pure horror. His skin was a grayish blue, almost silvery, but his lips were a muddy sort of brown. His ears were pretty long and pointed that split his hair away to make the tips known. His hair was pretty strange too; he had what looked like tiger strips in his brown shoulder length hair. Marak grinned, showing me his pointy blackish gray teeth with some pretty impressive fangs and started to take off his mitten on his right hand. This was a sight that nearly made me faint (and I don't faint); his right hand wasn't a hand, but a paw! A Tiger's paw! My feet felt like they were glued to the spot, I couldn't move. I stared at him with wide eyes trying to look away but couldn't, I was fascinated and curious as much as I was horrified. Marak walked closer to me and gently rubbed his Tiger paw on my cheek, it was soft and warm but I still shuddered, and I knew for a fact it wasn't from the cold!
"The little bird thought a fox was bringing her home, huh?" He chuckled slightly darker than his earlier "Loki" laugh. That was when I noticed his eyes. His beautiful eyes. They were a sort of silver with a hint of green inside their depths as if spring were coming in the dead of winter. I swallowed.
"What—what?" I tried to ask in barely a whisper, His grin broadened so I guess he knew my question.
"Take a good look, Jane. You've heard all about me I'm sure." He leaned closer to my ear. "Take a guess." My eyes widened even more when I remembered the book that I read earlier that morning.
"Ah-!" I swallowed trying to get my voice to work.
"What was that, Jane?" He whispered, his breath tickled my ear.
"A goblin." I whispered. Marak gave a hoot of laughter which startled me.
"Oh Jane!" His voice held such endearment that I had to backtrack a little. "You're a very clever girl, aren't you?! Now tell me. Tell me what I am." He smiled in jest and I very nearly gave in to the urge to punch his face!
"I'm going to eat your freakin' face!" I shouted at him. This was my favorite threat that I liked to give people when I was really pissed at them.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Jane?" He smiled cupping his ear with his hand and leaning in closer.
"I said that you're a goblin, what more do you want me to say?!" I cried helplessly throwing my hands in the air and bringing them down to hide my face.
"Yes. We've established that I'm a goblin, but!" he said clapping his hand and paw together in eagerness, he was enjoying my floundering way too much. "What am I? You've always known ever since you met me but didn't realize why."
I groaned when the thoughts and facts clicked into place. I'm so slow with figuring out the obvious! Sherlock Holmes would have given me a look of annoyance for my stupidity. "You're the Goblin King." I said weakly.
"Oh clever girl! Such a clever little bird!"
"Stop it!" I snapped "Stop tormenting me Marak! You're not going to steal me away!" I ran a hand through my hair.
"Yes, I will Jane." he said softly but his eyes told me he was eager. A sudden thought blared in my brain that gave me a sliver of hope.
"But I have a boyfriend!" Marak gave another bark of laughter slicing any hope that I had to pieces.
"Do you really think that matters, Jane?"
"It should!" I shrieked.
"Oh that poor boy." He scoffed.
"And why don't you just get it over with?! Why don't you just take me like those poor girls? Are you waiting me out until my hair turns white?!"
"Oh I wouldn't want to do anything to your precious hair, my dear." His voice was almost longing as he held a lock of my long strawberry colored hair in his paw, "And" he chuckled "I just came by tonight to see if you were really the one I wanted-which you are by the way-, so no. I won't take you tonight, but don't get your hopes up too high, little bird. I will be back you know. I just need to get everything prepared." I shivered as tears began to freeze on my face. Marak's thumb gently rubbed the tears away then turned to leave. I shrieked at him.
"I'll be out of the country by tomorrow evening!" It wasn't true, I knew it and I knew that he knew it too. He shook his head, brown stripped hair shifting this way and that with the movement; it had me transfixed for a fraction of a second.
"Jane, Jane, Jane." He said endearingly. "Didn't you learn your lesson this afternoon when your car wouldn't start?"
"That was YOU?! How could you?!" rage boiled inside my stomach rising throughout my entire body. I felt my eyes sting as angry tears threatened to fall some more. How dare he?! How could he?! He knew I wanted to see that musical more than anything!
"It was a nice touch wasn't it? Worked better than I thought it would, had you practically running to my front door."
"I'm not going anywhere near your front door!" I shouted at his smirking face. "And I'll get out of here even if I have to walk to the airport!" I turned on my heel and ran for the Inn door before Marak could say another word, tears blurring out my path. Once inside I slammed the door with more force than I meant to and ran to my room ignoring everyone's stares.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to tear this lovely room apart to relieve the unfairness of everything. He could have dragged me away from that lovely green patch in the woods easily; he was strong enough to do it. He could have lifted me away when I was yelling at him just outside the Inn. It'll be just like the story of Persephone and Hades. But he didn't. He said it was because he wasn't sure if he wanted me—which he said he did now—and that he wasn't prepared. He didn't say it, but he hinted oh so carefully that if he wanted to he would have taken me away, but that would have ruined the fun. After all, cats loved to play with their food before killing it, and tigers were no exception to that rule. And nor were little, tiny birds.
I sat down on my bed glaring at the wall in frustration while the day's events whirled around in my brain. I had to leave the country, but how? I knew he was responsible for making the plane land early so I didn't doubt that he could make any of them stay grounded too. But I couldn't stay here like a frightened animal during hunting season!
Running a hand through my hair I looked through my suitcase and realized with a start that I forgot my music books in the forest! I'm not going out there to look for them tonight though, I shuddered at the thought of Marak waiting for me in the outline of the trees with his goblin army. I'll look tomorrow morning I decided looking around my bag again. I feel like I'm missing something else. I noted unhappily. Then I realized that my family picture wasn't in my bag at all! I looked high and low around the room for it but it proved to be fruitless.
"Marak!" I growled. Having had enough of this I threw the curtains shut, almost tore off my clothes and threw them on the floor, angrily put on my Pj's and threw myself in the covers of my bed.
Sleep didn't come so easily and when it did it came in a fit of nightmares of caves, hopeless cries, Loki's triumphant laughter (I really need to stop watching that movie) and the wail of a baby.
A/N: Wow! We finally got to meet our Goblin King, Marak Tiger's paw! Poor Jane, she's going to have a lot of fun in the future! XD
Wow lots of stuff happened here! I'm sorry if it seemed a little rushed and I apologize for the future chapters of the same reason! So! Feel free to review this, I really do appreciate the feedback! It helps me see the mistakes such as grammar or spelling errors or if sentences don't make much sense, because I am writing this very late into the night to early morning. Love you all!
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful story arc of Clare B Dunkle's Hollow Hill, but I do own these characters! Any indication that they might be similar with a different character is strictly coincidental! I am not making any sort of profit from this. I'm just wanting to share! I don't own any of the movie/comic/tv show/ or any media references in this story!