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Back Goblin King Save as PDF
Chapters (35)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Prologue
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. PART TWO
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. PART THREE
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. Epilogue
  32. Acknowledgments
  33. Also by Kara Barbieri
  34. About the Author
  35. Newsletter Sign-up

With those words, the world rushed around me again until I stood alone in the throne room, dizzy and shaking. For a long moment, all I could do was stare blankly, unable to even think, much less move voluntarily. When I finally regained control of myself, I fell to my knees and wept.

3

THE FLAMING ARROW

I PULLED MYSELF together quicker than I thought I could. Quick enough that should Soren come back, he wouldn’t have noticed my tears or distress. Donnar was gazing at me, something akin to pity in his eyes. I glared at him. I didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“You drove him mad, then,” I said, straightening myself.

Donnar shrugged delicately. “If it’s any consolation, he was damaged way before I cursed him, and I don’t take disrespect well. Your pity should be saved.”

“I do not pity him. I do not feel compassion for him. None of this changes my view of him.” The words came out in a near growl. “You made everything worse.”

“Yes,” Donnar said. “I hope you find the answers you seek.” The wind picked up again despite us being inside, and with a blur of color, Donnar was gone.

I scowled. “You could have at least given me more directions!” I shouted at the spot where he had stood. “Damn svart-elves!”

I think that’s the one topic you, Soren, and I fully agree upon.

Ignoring Lydian, I put my head in my hands, trying to piece together what Donnar had shown me. Part of it was obvious. Lydian had come down to the caverns seeking knowledge, he’d mentioned some type of ability his brother and father had that he didn’t, he was hostile to Donnar, who then cursed him with the knowledge of literally every living thing all at once, driving him mad—or, well, mad-er.

But even if he was cursed with some type of knowledge, even if he was driven mad, none of that really mattered. Not to me, anyway. It hadn’t changed the things he’d done to me. It hadn’t changed the pain he caused. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to listen to what he had to say, because even if it was important enough for his specter to hang around me and speak in my mind all day, listening to him felt like giving in. Somehow validating his actions. Maybe it was irrational. But it was how I felt.