The Goblin King Read Online Free PDF Page A

Tears tracked down her cheeks, spoiling the makeup she usually never wore.
    From the other side of the door came the faintest chiming, a scattering of notes breaking up the dark. For a heartbeat she thought she saw someone with her in the bathroom in the shadows. Then for a moment she’d been somewhere else. A field with a black-clad warrior.
    She’d woken with an amber bead in her hand and Matt calling her name. She didn’t tell him what she’d done. She wasn’t sure what had happened and no one would believe her, a sixteen-year-old made up to look older, more drunk than tipsy, and ranting about goblins.
    Eliza sniffed and lay still, holding back the tears. Her head ached as if she had a hangover. It had been a long time since she’d relived that night. Her brother’s first and last party without their parents being home had ended in disaster.
    Ben’s car accident, the police, the questions. The party was forgotten until Ben was buried. At the funeral, with Matt’s eyes on her and her new gold bangle with the amber bead shining in the sun, the guilt had first risen. Matt had touched the gold around her wrist and said four words.
    What have you done?
    Her belief in the stories told by their mother had always been a source of teasing. Now her brother was serious and distant as if he blamed her for the strange magic that had ended his party. Had he seen the goblins tear through the house, terrifying his friends?
    The amber bead was the only evidence of what had happened. Evidence that the Goblin King had been in her home and that she wasn’t crazy and hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.
    Her fingers traced the familiar grooves in the amber. The bead was both a comfort and a reminder of the terror, as well as a warning never to try her luck again with the Goblin King, no matter how dark the day.
    Eliza rolled over and tried to return to sleep. The sheets were cool and smooth against her cheek and the mattress soft. She eased into it, then stilled. Her body stiffened as consciousness gripped her, and she shook off the dream. This wasn’t her mattress. It was too soft. She forced slow breaths. Her fingers brushed the sheets. Not cotton.
    What she’d thought was music became voices. Male voices in a language she couldn’t understand. Goblinese . She was still here. Sleep hadn’t sent her home. Her waking nightmare was still running, demanding her presence.
    Cautiously, she opened her eyes, half expecting the warrior to be lying in wait again. The bed was empty. A small mercy. And she was dressed. A second mercy. She ran her hand over her hips and felt the reassuring line of her panties. Fully dressed and unharmed. A thankful sigh escaped. How long she would be safe from his interest was anyone’s guess, since his intent had been clear.
    The need for water prevented her from swallowing. She reached for a glass on the bedside table. The glass was cold, the water clear. She brought it to her lips, then paused, unable to drink. It could be drugged. Had she already been drugged? Why else would she have slept? She pressed the glass to her lips and inhaled the fresh mineral scent as if it could quench her thirst. Then Eliza forced her hand to place the glass back. She couldn’t chance drinking and falling back asleep.
    How long had she slept for?
    The hands on her watch twirled as if a madman played with the cogs. The long hand ran forward, minutes streaming past like seconds; the other plodded backward, counting hours like minutes. The second hand was frozen. Eliza tapped the face, frowning. The watch was new, a birthday present. She listened for a reassuring tick, but the timepiece was silent, giving no clue as to its malfunction.
    How long had she been in the Shadowlands?
    Her bladder cramped, demanding attention. She needed a toilet and fresh water. Food too. If she didn’t take care of herself, she wouldn’t have any chance of escape. She shivered, remembering the empty sky and tortured landscape. She wouldn’t be