Page 66 of Mostly Shattered

“Eh?” The goblin’s earthen jug rolls toward my feet as he struggles to stand.

I jerk my foot back to keep whatever liquid is inside from splashing on my shoe.

“Halt!” the goblin orders from the ground, lifting his finger. He holds the warning for a few seconds before collapsing back into drunken oblivion. A disturbing falsetto snore sounds.

“I don’t get why you’re so angry. It’s not like you have to do the trials,” I argue. “I mean, I didn’t really think the prophecy was going to be as easy as step one: find troll, step two: fix amulet, step three: all good.”

“Keep your voice down,” Costin warns. “It’s not safe to talk here.”

I wonder if that’s true or if he just wants to shut me up.

“Follow me.” Costin doesn’t give me a choice as he ducks between two of the dwellings.

Chapter

Fifteen

I want my brother. I want Anthony.

I grip my phone, willing him to get in contact with me.

Anthony isn’t always the most reliable, but it isn’t like him to leave me hanging. He did say to text him when I came down, and he would find me.

My stomach is in knots, but I try not to panic. It’s possible he partied too hard and is passed out somewhere. Or maybe he hooked up with someone and is preoccupied.

“He’ll answer,” I tell myself.

“Who?” Costin turns at the sound of my voice. He’s trying to lead me over the scary bridge, but I don’t want to follow him. I’m irritated with him for not telling me about Draakmar.

Okay, sure, it changesnothing and, fine, knowing has given my fears a more distinctive shape, but how can I be expected to fight without all the facts?

“My brother, if you must know,” I answer. “Anthony isn’t texting me back.”

Costin frowns. “You should not be wasting your time with that right now. Anthony is probably in one of the many clubs and can’t hear his phone. We don’t need him.”

“What is wrong with you?” I demand. “You’re being more of an ass than usual.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not going anywhere until you answer my questions. Why are you so pissed at me?”

“I told you to let me handle the troll. Instead, you flirt with him, and now he’s sending you into the labyrinth,” Costin answers. He keeps his voice soft in deference to those close by, but I can hear the bubbling anger in his tone.

“Flirting?” I gasp at the accusation. I’m not so quiet. “I was doing no such thing!”

Several people stop their conversations and turn to look at us.

“Keep your voice down, Tamara,” Costin orders. “And what was all that about beautiful mountains and troll history?”

He cannot be serious. There is no conceivableworld where I’m attracted to a troll. For one, it physically would not work. I’m pretty sure Morvok would crush me into nothingness. For second, I’m not in the habit of flirting with rock creatures with dead animals hanging in their hair.

“I’m not even going to dignify that accusation with a response,” I say. “But if I was flirting with him, so what? It’s not like you own me, vampire. We’re not going steady. We fucked. Once. That does not mean I’m your property. I can do whatever I want with whoever I want in any position I want.”

In quick hindsight, I realize that is not the appropriate thing to say to an angry vampire while trapped in the supernatural realm beneath a mausoleum. I follow Costin’s eyes as he glances around. We are drawing a crowd. Some of that crowd looks very interested in my last declaration.

A hairy beast with wiggly antennas—what the hell would you call a half ant, half dog?—licks his lips and winks at me.

I move closer to Costin and whisper, “Get your jealousy in check. In case you forgot, I have a world to save. How about we focus on that? Now, what exactly is this labyrinth?”

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