She felt the knot in her chest ease. Maybe they would be all right. Maybe this all would end without losing her sister for a foolish mistake.
She released her hold on Esther, who darted back toward their hut. The tangled vines hanging from the roof would hide her from their gaze, and the solid wood door with the moon carved out of the front would prevent them from entering. She hoped.
Freya waited, clutching her towel to her chest as the goblins packed up their wares. She refused to allow them any time to themselves. Not on her property.
Through all their movement and packing, the silver goblin stared back at her. He crossed his arms over his chest and let his eyes meander over all the skin her towel revealed. She’d never had anyone stare at her this long. Let alone even see her knees.
Freya ground her teeth and let him look. They would remove themselves if she had to stand here all night.
Finally, they packed everything in boxes and crates, and the bells jangled again. Horses emerged from the forest behind them, and the animalistic goblins hooked them up to every cart. The great beasts tossed their heads, jangled the bells, and then the carts moved.
The silver goblin was the last to leave. He uncrossed his arms and gave her a wink. “I’ll see you again soon, Freya.”
“You’re not welcome here,” she reiterated.
“Oh, I know. But you see, your sister is mine now.”
“She didn’t make a deal.” Her voice shook in fear because she couldn’t lose her little sister. There was no one left, and she’d be damned if this goblin would take away her only family.
He lifted a brow. “What’s your definition of a deal?”
The goblin walked away with the rest. They disappeared into the inky shadows of the forest, leaving behind the faint sound of bells and the scent of freshly baked apples.
Chapter 3
Freya burst into their home. The door slammed against the wooden interior and dust blew up from the well-worn sheepskin in the living room. Esther stood beside the woodstove. The iron monolith was the largest thing in the hut and was framed by hanging herbs drying in the rafters.
Her sister was wringing her hands in worry. And she should be worried because Freya was going to singe her ears with angry words.
“What were you thinking?” Freya snapped. “You know how dangerous goblins are. You know the wards can be broken so easily. You’ve left us completely unprotected!”
“I just wanted to get mom’s necklace back,” Esther whispered. She opened her hand and there it was. The damned necklace that looked eerily similar to what their mother wore when she was still alive.
That’s what all this was about? Esther had put them both in significant danger just so she could get back a necklace that looked like mom’s?
She was so mad she could have spit fire. Freya didn’t even know what to say that wouldn’t end in a screaming match. In the end, she grumbled, “You know that’s not mom’s necklace. Hers wasn’t silver, Esther. It was gold.”
But that didn’t deter her sister at all. Esther closed her fingers around the pointed ends and hugged the jewelry close to her chest. As if it had brought her a little closer to their mother after all.
She couldn’t stand the sight.
Freya stalked to the back room. Their bedroom didn’t have a door, but there wasn’t much privacy here, anyway. Back when they were children, she and Esther had slept in front of the wood stove while their parents slept with a curtain over this doorway. Now, the sisters shared the space.
Esther’s side of the room was covered in brightly colored tapestries. She bought a new one each year during the winter festivals, to celebrate the new year. Now, she had exactly sixteen covering the walls.
In contrast, Freya’s side was rather bland. She had her small cot, an oak dresser for her clothes, and a small jewelry box on top. It was all she needed, anyway. Esther was more interested in finding things that made her happy. Items. Nik naks. Things that filled their space and let other people know someone lived here. If it were up to Freya, the entire place would be nearly empty.
She pulled out a plain white shift and brown smock to put over it. The goblin’s words had gotten into her head, and now she couldn’t get them out.
Would he return?
The chill spread down her spine and into her hands, her feet, her very soul. Something inside her said he would absolutely return, and that he would come for her sister.
Swallowing hard, she went back into the center room where Esther waited. At least her sister looked apologetic. Esther likely hadn’t wanted to make Freya mad, and the last thing she had planned to do was break the wards. She knew just how dire the circumstances were now that they were unprotected.
Freya only stayed in the forest because of those wards. Her mother had drawn them, and yes, they could recreate the symbols. But that would take time, and night was falling. Wards must be drawn during the day. They drew upon the powers of the sun.
“We have to sew the wards again,” she muttered, crossing the room to grab the jug they usually filled with water for tea. She shook it, pleased to find there was enough liquid for her to make a cup.
“Yes, I realize that. I’m so sorry, Freya.”
“Don’t apologize. Words don’t help.” She stuffed the wood stove and lit it before adding, “You should get some sleep.”
Esther hissed in a long breath. “Look, I know you don’t agree with what I did. But I remember mom like it was just yesterday. How am I supposed to forget them? Like you?”
That icy chill traveled down her spine again. Freya straightened and looked her sister in the eyes. “Do you really believe I’ve forgotten them? Do you think that’s even possible?”
“Well, you certainly act like it.”
Freya had never been so angry. The rage poured through her veins like her blood had boiled rather than the water on the stove. “Everything I do is in memory of them. I take care of the crystals and the herbs. I grow the plants that keep the goblins at bay. I sew the wards when they break, and I sing the songs to the stream so it flows. What more do you want as proof that I miss them?”
“You could say it once in a while.”
Was that what Esther wanted? Freya would not sit here and mourn their parents two years after their disappearance. “Things have to get done around here,” she replied, her voice thick. “I can’t sit here and wish them back with you. Someone has to take care of us and our home.”
She didn’t expect that person to be Esther. Her sister was only a child, sixteen and still thinking the world would be kind to two women on their own. Neither of them were likely to get married, not while living within the heart of the forest as they did. Not to mention their dowries had already been spent on food and a new roof. Although, Esther didn’t know that yet.
Freya had to step up and take on the responsibilities of both mother and father. She had to do all the things that she might not have wanted to do.
Didn’t Esther see that? How could she not understand the difficulty of Freya’s position?
Of course Freya had wanted a life different from this. She wanted to live as a normal woman and find a young man who would woo her. She wanted to build her own house in the forest, design it so that many babies could stagger through the halls into the arms of a father who wouldn’t disappear into the woods and never return.