Page 15 of The Goblin and The Dancer
Grik felt as if he were melting, all his bravado oozing away. Once more, he saw himself throwing that cursed rock.
His discomfort only increased when Paul said in an awkward rush, “I thank you for your concern in jumping after me.”
Grik opened his mouth. He wanted to say it was the least he could do. He wanted to say it was no bother; goblins did this sort of thing all the time. He wanted to confess, to beg for forgiveness. It all stuck in his throat and resulted in nothing more than a low gargle.
Paul wasn’t even paying attention. Clearly glad to get his unwilling gratitude over with, he looked past Grik to Rosanna. “You jumped in after me, too,” he said softly.
Grik stiffened, his mouth slowly closing. The soldier’s former flirtatiousness was gone, replaced by a wonder and tenderness.
Rosanna smiled a little, and dropped her eyes. “I would have done it for anyone,” she said, blushing.
That’s right, Grik wanted to say.Anyone, Paul. Not just you!
The warmth in Paul’s eyes increased. “You are the bravest woman I know.”
Grik wanted to insert himself, screaming, between the two. Even when he did something wrong, it didn’t go right. Despite this disaster, the two were only growing closer. What was the point of trying to compete? They seemed destined to fall in love, no matter who interfered in their romance.
But wasn’t this what he deserved now, after all? He was being selfish to resent what was happening. What right did he have to Rosanna’s heart now? None at all.
He hung his head and scuffed at the ground with his foot to get their attention. He spoke slowly, without looking up. “I’ll go first. I know tunnels.”
It was only right that he should go first and take all the risks. Maybe it could make up for the horrible thing he had done. Maybe a monster would attack them so that he could sacrifice himself to save the others. If he at least got a leg bitten off, maybe he could live with himself again.
And if he didn’t live, what did it matter? Rosanna had jumped into the river to save Paul, not him.
She didn’t love him.
He turned away, his voice hoarse. “This way.”
Paul threw up a hand with a commanding gesture that froze Grik and Rosanna in place. “Wait! Before we go, I’m going to find a pipe. Or something I can use as a club.” He gave Grik a meaningful look. “We are going to need a weapon.”
“Paul!” Rosanna protested.
“You never know what we might run into down here,” Paul said smoothly, cleverly covering up his implication. But when she turned away to look towards a sudden scampering, Paul shot Grik a hard look and made a vigorous gesture with his fist. His point was clear.
Paul held out a hand, with a masterful air, to Rosanna. “Rosanna, come with me.”
“I’m tired,” she said without looking at him. “I’ll wait here with Grik.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” Paul said, shooting Grik another look before limping away down the tunnel and out of sight.
Grik looked after him. He wanted to be angry, but he really couldn’t. Paul simply wanted to protect Rosanna—on that they could agree. He was afraid Grik would hurt her. And he wasn’t wrong to fear that.
After all, Grik had hurt Rosanna without even trying.
The sound of Paul’s muffled grunts and the steady ding of a rock being levered against a pipe drifted back to them through the dark.
Grik looked at Rosanna and couldn’t quite help feeling a little wonder, even excitement. He had never been alone with her before, and he was both thrilled and self-conscious. If only he weren’t so guilty. If only he didn’t have anything weighing on his conscience, he could have taken advantage of this opportunity and confessed his love.
But he couldn’t.
Grik suddenly noticed that Rosanna’s shoulders were hunched. He peered at her, and he realized with a burst of worry that her shoulders were shaking.
“Rosanna?” Her name slipped out before he could stop himself, and it rested on his tongue like cool water.
Normally, he wouldn’t have dared to address her so casually. Getting sucked into a sewer together somehow made one a little less in awe of someone else. Perhaps it was because both Rosanna and Paul were covered in filth and crawling around in the sewers just like him. Somehow it seemed to bring them down to his level.
“Are you all right?” he ventured, and then he chuffed out a breath and shook his head at his clumsy words. “I guess that’s a silly question.” He sat down on the ground with a thump. Of course she wasn’t all right. She was lost in the city’s sewage system . . . because of him.
