Chapter Five

Father pulled me from the house by the rope tied at my waist. It gave me a newfound respect for cows and horses. The streets leading to the palace flooded over with goblins making their way like livestock toward the square.

I spotted Councilor Wayfarer pushing through the mills of people, dragging Pudge behind him on a similar rope. I stifled a giggle as they fell in alongside us.

Pudge’s barrel-like chest was bare except for the wool scarf around his shoulders. He wore a green loincloth.

“Did they have to slaughter four sheep to make your boots?” I eyed the shaggy woolen garments. The only thing missing was their heads.

Pudge smirked. “Yeah, well your dress ain’t so pretty, either. Looks like someone ran a toad over with a cart and sewed it to you.”

“Trust me, it’s awful. The sides are so loose I think my teats might fall out.”

With a laugh, Pudge slapped me on the back. “Don’t know how anyone could find their true love in these costumes.”

Councilor Wayfarer turned his head, his eyes narrowed. “Pudgeons, I told you, no more complaints. These costumes were good enough for your ancestors, and they’ll be good enough for you.”

“It could be worse.” Father gave us a pointed look.

The only way it could get worse was if I had shit cakes in my teeth. But I decided to keep that opinion to myself. As we drew closer to the gates, Amos, one of the guards, caught my father and Councilor Wayfarer and ushered them toward the high dais near the palace.

“Ivy,” Father called over his shoulder, “you and Pudgeons go to the front of the crowd where we can see you. There’ll be no funny business tonight.”

“What do they think we’re going to do?” I grabbed hold of Pudge’s arm so we wouldn’t get separated.

“I’ve got some ideas.” Pudge grinned. “And most of them have to do with me showing the kingdom my arse.”

“A little late for that.”

We laughed. After several minutes and elbows to the head and body, we managed to push our way to the front. The members of the King’s Council stood lined up in order of rank in front of their marble chairs. On his own dais, King Starshooter sat a few feet above them.

My stomach churned as I sent a silent prayer to the Hag. “This is it.” I glanced up at Pudge.

He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze, loaning me strength I didn’t realize I needed. “They have to pick you, Ivy. You’re the best fighter I know.”

“And our fathers are on the King’s Council,” I added. “So we should both go on the Mission.”

A hush fell over the crowd. The king stood, then took his place in front of an elaborate marble podium carved with swords and crowns.

Chewing my bottom lip, I noticed Prince Dorian standing beside the dais. I didn’t think it possible for anyone to look good in these stupid costumes, but there he stood. I was sure most of the females were beside themselves staring at his hardened muscles and green skin visible for all to see. A gold crown set with sapphires rested on his auburn hair. A newly inked tattoo of his family crest ran up his shoulder and neck, and his usual woolen scarf draped over one shoulder. The emerald green loincloth was strung with golden thread.

As if sensing my scrutiny, he shifted his gaze to me for a moment, then back to his father. Not long enough for me to decipher what he might be thinking.

King Starshooter waved his hand, magic carrying his voice through the crowd as he started to speak.

“Good people of Gob Hollow, it is with great pleasure we gather here this night. Not only do we choose six brave goblins to go on the Mission, but we also bring forth the names of those who will participate in the Choosing Ceremony this year.”

Applause and cheers erupted.

“He says Choosing Ceremony like it’s a good thing.” Pudge jabbed me in the ribs. “Luckily our fathers won’t toss us to the wolves.”

I chuckled. We weren’t seventeen yet, and I couldn’t see Father or Councilor Wayfarer throwing our names in with the others. “At least not until next year.” Already, a female behind us sobbed. Poor girl—she wouldn’t have a choice.

The king raised his hands to hush the people once more. “It has been a decade and a half since the last Mission, but now we shall test our younglings as we did in days past. Much thought and discussion has gone into deciding who the six goblins will be. Not only have we evaluated their skills, but we have talked to others who know them and vouch for their integrity, strength, and courage.”

I wondered who’d vouch for my integrity. Crap, I hoped they hadn’t asked Headmistress Kimblay.

Everyone grew quiet. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for my entire sixteen years. Clutching tight to Pudge, I took a staggered breath, pulse pounding in my ears.

“The first name chosen for the Mission is my son, Dorian Starshooter.”

Cheers rang through the square as Dorian took his place next to his father, accepting a bronze armband. He smiled, bowing to the crowd.

“The next name is Beaurick Smithy.”

Of course. He was one of Dorian’s closest companions. I glanced around, wondering who the other four would be.

“Percivious Blackiron.” Another one of Dorian’s friends moved to the dais. But I could barely hear over the thud in my chest. What if they didn’t choose me? Or what if they did? Hag, it was almost too much to consider either option.

“Cray Guardsman,” the king called the fourth name. Two more spots.

King Starshooter scanned the King’s Council next to him, then the people of Gob Hollow. I squeezed my eyes shut, aware of only Pudge’s grip on my hand.

“And our last two members for the Mission are Barthe Dundry and Vane Girt.”

Birdie’s older brother and my mortal enemy.

“What?” I said. How could they choose Vane? I was better than him. No, something wasn’t right. My name should’ve been called.

Was this because I was a female? Sure, they allowed females to train as soldiers, but none had ever been chosen to go on a Mission. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t full-blooded? I’d been training with the King’s Guard, unlike some of the others. This wasn’t how this was supposed to play out.

My mind reeled. The goblins chosen for the Missions were granted favor and recognized as heroes in the kingdom. They were also more likely to find a place within the higher ranks, some as bodyguards at the palace, others within the council. I needed the Mission. Without it, I’d have no way to prove myself.

My father wouldn’t meet my gaze—nor would Dorian.

“What a load of hogwash,” Pudge snarled. “No way is Barthe or Vane worth two shit cakes in a gutter. They’ve made a mistake.”

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to cry. Not in front of them. “This isn’t happening,” I said. But it was.

Pudge put an arm around me. “Sorry. I know how much you wanted to go.”

“S’okay.” Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. Piss off, it wasn’t okay. I’d spent every spare moment training for this. Learning to wield a sword and take on opponents twice my size. I delved into the histories with Father. What would I do with my life now? Everything I’d ever done had been in hopes of going on a Mission or being able to take my place as the next Advisor to the King—because in order to do that, you had to do something spectacular to get noticed.

“High Councilor Archer will call out the names for the Choosing Ceremony,” King Starshooter said. “Remember the candidates must be seventeen to enter their own name; however, families may elect to place their sixteen-year-olds into the ceremony. Once a name is placed, it cannot be removed.”

My father stood, robes swishing at his legs. “I welcome you to this night of celebration and good fortune. For centuries, our people have gathered in this very spot to keep with tradition. To guide our children and loved ones for the next step in their lives. Not only is the Choosing Ceremony about the arranging of marriages, but it is also the time when we step into our adulthood. And I’ll remind all who are chosen this night that your lives begin here and now.”

He glanced at the King’s Council first, then at the king, who nodded for him to proceed.

“As High Councilor and Advisor to the king, it is my honor to speak the first name for the Choosing Ceremony. I offer my daughter, Lady Ivy Archer.”

Shock spiraled through my veins, and my legs wobbled beneath me. I was being punished. The Archives had been the breaking point. The King’s Council smiled at one another, and Father’s face hardened as he looked at me.

Pudge clutched me against him. “Ivy, it’s okay. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Councilor Wayfarer came forward next. “I offer the name of my son, Pudgeons Wayfarer, for the Choosing Ceremony.”

Pudge went still. “Aw, Hag. We pissed ’em off good this time.”

I stood silent, leaning against my best friend, wondering if I’d wake up from the nightmare. Father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I never thought he’d put me into the Choosing Ceremony. That he’d force me to leave our home before I turned seventeen.

More names were called. Then the Dundry councilors came forward. “We wish to place the name of our daughter, Birdie Dundry, into the Choosing.”

Scanning the crowd, I found her standing at the opposite end of the dais, her hair knotted on her head and gown altered to be more formfitting. When she saw me staring, she sneered.

Then a familiar voice brought me back to reality. “I, Prince Dorian, enter my own name in the Choosing Ceremony.” He exchanged a look with the council, his father, and my father. And I knew my life was over.

He’d entered his name right after Birdie’s family said hers. He wanted to marry her. Why else would he have added his name? Unless, of course, his father had pushed him to do so. How could he pick someone like her? Even if I wanted to remain friends with him, there’d be no way Birdie would allow it. My vision blurred, and a sob lodged in my throat. Pudge led me out of the crowd as Vane’s name got thrown into the pot as well.

“C’mon, let’s get away from here,” Pudge said. He pushed people out of our way, making a path to the far corner of the square. He didn’t stop until we sat beneath the familiar white oak trees where we took our meals during school.

“What am I going to do?” I cried, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.

Pudge stared at his rope, then back at me. “I won’t let someone horrible marry you, Ivy.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. We made a pact, remember?” he teased.

“We were five.”

“But it still stands. I know I’m not great by any means, and you could do a lot better.”

Pudge had no idea how perfect he was in my eyes. He was not only my best friend but someone who always stood by me. Maybe he could learn to love me.

“Pudge, if in two months we’re on the dais, waiting to be paired, I promise to let you speak up for me.”

He shivered. “Yeah, with Vane and Birdie both in the Choosing, we don’t need any nightmarish possibilities. I pity whoever gets stuck with them.”

I hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. “Tonight was a disaster. I can’t believe I thought they’d let me go on the Mission.”

Pudge stroked my hair tenderly. “They’ll regret it.”

“But how will I prove myself now? I want to be High Advisor to the next king.” Missions didn’t just come along every year. If they decided to do another one, it’d likely not be until Dorian had children. By then, I’d be married and a mother to children of my own. Too old for consideration to go on a Mission. Damn it.

“We’ll figure it out.” His warm breath fanned against my face, and I turned to look at him.

My insides rattled like they’d been shaken up. I raised my fingers to touch his cheek. It felt nice having him hold me, like it centered me. Not that I’d tell him that. At last, he released me.

In the distance, goblins laughed and danced as musicians took the place of the council on the stage. Flower petals littered the stone walks while a great bonfire was lit in the square. The scent of baked goods, pipe smoke, and turkey legs filled the air. Congratulations and hellos were offered around in hearty voices. But Pudge and I just sat there.

Dorian stepped out from the shadows. “Excuse me. Might I have a moment alone with Ivy?”

Pudge glanced between the two of us. “Sure. I’ll find you later,” he said before leaving.

Wiping my hands on my skirts, I stood staring at Dorian. I knew the right thing to do, but the words almost choked me. “Um—congratulations on the Mission.”

He touched my arm. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. I really did put a good word in for you. Hag knows you’re better with weapons than anyone they chose.”

“But I’m a halfer.” I shrugged.

“No, it wasn’t because of that.” Dorian’s eyes looked troubled. “It’s my fault you didn’t get picked. When our fathers told me to make sure the council caught us together, I should’ve told them no.”

The air became thick, my breathing ragged. “Wh—what?”

It all made sense now. His sudden appearance in the Archives that night, his not showing up at school earlier in the evening, the exchanged looks between our fathers and the council.

“Ivy, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry? That’s all you can say?” Fury raged through my body, and my hands trembled at my sides as I fisted them into my dress. “You cost me the Mission. And you made a fool of me. I—I thought you were different. That we were friends. But you’re just like the rest of them.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back. “Wait,” he said. “Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Not what I think? You put your name into the Choosing right after Birdie’s name was mentioned. You embraced me on purpose so we’d get caught because our fathers didn’t want me to go on the Mission. Why didn’t they just say they didn’t want me to go? Why go through all the theatrics of letting me believe I had a chance? Am I missing anything?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “There is a lot of political stuff going on behind the scenes, Ivy. They’re forcing Father’s hand in some of it. But Archer and Father are also playing their own games. Just please hear me out. They wanted the council to think they had the upper hand—”

“No, you hear me. I may be a half-blood, but I would never treat someone the way you treated me. So you can take the Mission and shove it up your royal arse.” I shouldered past him, running into the shadows and away from the blasted ceremonies.

It was my own fault. I never should’ve trusted him. The only goblins I could count on were myself and Pudge.

Blinded by tears, I raced toward the gate—only to be stopped by a guard.