315 Finn's worry

Finn struggled against the feelings welling up in her as she fled back to the kitchen. Naomi was on her heels. 

"It doesn't make sense." She whispered, laying the palmful of soil on the table. 

The frozen mud of the streets was a reddish clay. She had swept and cleaned all day, she knew there hadn't been a spec on the floor before Amelia had come. 

It made perfect sense that the distraught lady had tracked in some icy mud, and that Roen had gotten it into his hand. 

It didn't make sense that what came out of his hand was perfectly warm, black topsoil. 

"Perhaps we missed some dirt while sweeping earlier," Naomi said dubiously. 

"You and I both missed it? And it got onto the rug, where Roen was able to grab an entire handful?" Finn asked. 

"Perhaps not." The other woman frowned. 

Finn gripped her hands tightly together in angst. What next?

"What about Lily?" Naomi cut into her thoughts. 

"What about her?" Finn tried to contain her emotions. She would love nothing better than to lash out, but this was not the time or the place, and none of this was Naomi's fault. 

"Tell me about their personalities," The gentle Rhone woman invited, sitting down at the table. 

Finn bit the inside of her cheek in indecision. The stew on the stove was almost done and needed no more attention. Similarly, the bread to accompany it was already complete and cooling from the oven. 

There was no reason not to, so Finn sat across from Naomi and began talking. 

"Ivan is delightful. He's always smiling and bright…" 

Naomi's face had not changed, but both of their minds went back to the incident with Ivan and Quilina. The adjective Finn had chosen was purely coincidence, and she swallowed before continuing. 

"Roen is full of mischief already. He's never content to be still. I can't lay him on the floor or ground before he's wriggling to roll away or lift his head to see around." 

She paused again, and thought of her daughter. 

"Lily is sweet, and often surprises me," Finn thought of when the baby had slapped her face to stop her crying, and frowned. 

"They are lovely children," Naomi complimented. 

"If only they were merely children," Finn mused. "I would love for them to lead lives of peace and normalcy." 

"It seems that was not to be your fate, nor theirs." The other woman said. 

"It's my fault!" Finn suddenly burst out. "I was trying Jimmy's recipes, not knowing what they did. I didn't even think about becoming pregnant! I didn't consider that it might affect my children!" 

Naomi blinked several times, absorbing the information, and reached across the table to hold Finn's hand comfortingly. 

"It doesn't seem to me that they are hurt in any way, whatever effects there might have been." She replied slowly. 

"How can I keep it a secret? I knew Roland was a prince when I married him, but I had hoped his father would remarry and produce other heirs. He didn't really want to be a prince anyway. But now that I see my children, and know the dangers that threaten our world, and the inheritance they might have…" 

"It must be a heavy burden to see on your small babies." Naomi whispered, and Finn saw the woman's other hand move down to her stomach. 

"Naomi," Finn said suddenly, "You're not…" Her eyes drifted down. 

"Oh! No! No, that is, not yet. I was only imagining what it might be like, someday," Naomi blushed madly. "It's too soon." 

"Hmm," Finn let the matter go. 

"So your children," She came back to the subject at hand. "Ivan… and light?" 

"Roen, and dirt, apparently," Finn replied, deep in thought. She wanted to pass off the incident as an odd coincidence, but the evidence of her children's abnormality would likely become undeniable before long. 

"They are very young." Naomi put in. 

"Yes. They are very young." Finn agreed. She wouldn't be able to keep them hidden from the world forever. 

___________

Edmar followed behind the goblins, distaste in the back of his throat. The creature reeked, badly. He doubted they ever bathed. 

His nose wrinkled despite his best efforts to keep a straight face. The leader of the group glanced back at him every so often with a grotesque smile of sharp teeth. 

On closer examination, it looked to Edmar as if they grew normal teeth like people and then filed them into points. The effect was rather intense. He wondered vaguely if it interfered with their eating. 

They hiked onward, further and further, until they came to a hole in the ground.

Edmar darted a look upwards. The last time he was taken through a hole in the ground, the distance had been quite untenable. If not for Tamas accompanying him, he would have fallen to his death. He watched warily as one by one, the goblins hopped into it. 

With a deep breath, when the leader indicated it was his turn, Edmar jumped downward. Thankfully, in the end, the drop was a short one. 

He landed softly on his feet, and moved quickly forward, lest the next one to come down fall on his head. 

The tunnel he found himself in was dimly lit by green lights along the sides, similar to what he had seen in the sky above the Below. It was well-dug, wide and squared off. But the odor was almost untenable. 

Filth and rot permeated the air, causing Edmar to gag. He barely managed not to retch, breathing through his mouth instead of his nose to minimize the scent as best he could. 

"Where to?" He asked as brightly as he could manage when the leader dropped down behind him. "What's your name, by the way?" 

"Forward. I am Lefu." 

The tone didn't invite further conversation, but Edmar was uncomfortable with the silence. 

"What's your system of leadership here?" He asked curiously. The giants had a queen. Did the goblins also have a monarchy? 

"The strongest rules." Lefu's lips curled away from his teeth. 

"How is that decided?" The Commodore's son asked. 

"Whoever murders the Archduke when he becomes weak takes his place." 

Edmar's eyes widened in spite of himself. A murderous society indeed. How did it function for so long? How did they not all die out, murdering each other? 

"And am I going to meet the Archduke now? Tamas will be interested in speaking with him." Edmar chatted idly. 

It was harder to draw breath, the deeper into the tunnels they walked. There was dim, green light, but Edmar struggled to see. At least the ground was fairly even, if sloped, so he hadn't tripped so far. 

The goblins' creepily large eyes made sense to him now that he saw what he could only assume were their living conditions. From the easy way they moved around, they could obviously see well in the darkness. 

He wondered how they might fare in Tamas's world of black. 

It was impossible to tell how long they walked. Edmar was getting tired. He drank more from the water skin he'd stolen from the goblin he'd murdered. The strong drink did little to hydrate him, and he regretted it. He was just very thirsty.

Someone else might feel some manner of guilt for the actions he'd taken. He felt only relief that they had worked. Besides, these things weren't human. They looked hideous. Why should he feel pity or grief or guilt for ending one of the ridiculous things? 

He kept a pleasant smile plastered on his face, continuing to breathe primarily through his mouth. How did they stand the smell, at all? It was abhorrent. 

Wholly distasteful creatures. Why did Tamas even want their allegiance? He fingered the stone and the stick in his pocket, remembering the instructions.

Use the stick to open the portal, cast the stone into it. Tamas would come... probably. If he were available. Apparently he was terribly busy. The giants were on their way to destroy Klain, and who knew what Roy was doing? 

He wished Brenna were with him. She smelled so much nicer than the goblins. 

Edmar took another breath. He would never be able to sleep here. The chance of being killed while he rested was the least of his concerns. The awful smell would suffocate him long before a blade met his throat. 

The tunnel turned a sharp corner, and he noticed some offshooting branches. Eventually, after long last, with aching feet and a sore back from bending to duck through lower doorways, he entered what seemed to be a throne room of some kind. 

The riches of the cave were in sharp contrast to its ugly occupants. Gold and fine jewels and all manner of beautiful items graced the walls and floor of the chamber. A particularly deformed-looking goblin sat in a large, ornate chair towards the back, up on a platform. The back of the chair was pressed tightly against the wall. No one stood beside or behind it. 

Everyone remained within sight of the Archduke. 

Lefu reached out a clawlike hand to shove Edmar forward. Undaunted, the man confidently strode towards the throne and affected an elaborate bow. 

"Greetings, Archduke! I bear tidings on behalf of my master, Tamas!"