CHAPTER 113

Kisa stood in the kitchen and scowled at the pantry door.

How many times had she wandered in here and absent-mindedly opened it? At least three times a day, and now that she was here again, she had decided to look through the whole pantry and discover just what it was that she was looking for.

Her missing memories really bothered her. She had just assumed that something would come back to her in the last few days, but all she got was static. Vivid images of the old man stirred something up in her that she couldn't describe, but they didn't tell her a thing about his identity or even her own.

Tink walked into the kitchen and climbed up onto the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. She looked at Kisa and yawned, revealing a frightening amount of teeth.

"Stupid cat, litter box somewhere else." She slugged half of her coffee and winced. "Blegh. Maybe kitty pee in here, too."

"Hey, fuck you." Kisa put her hands on her hips. Ever since she had almost fallen off the railing the other day, she had deliberately avoided the goblin. Being alone was difficult in a house full of so many people, but at least everyone gave her some space. In a lot of ways, it was almost like they didn't even see her. She hadn't decided yet whether this offended her or not, but it had given her plenty of time to think things over.

However, the one person in the house who always seemed to notice her presence was Tink, and she never failed to comment on it.

"Worthless cat lay around all day. Tink too busy for fucking." She smiled at her own joke and then drank the rest of her coffee. "Too tired, too."

"Wow, you're so clever," Kisa responded while rolling her eyes.

"Tink very clever, thank you."

"No, that's sarcasm, you stupid goblin!" She growled and held out her hands, her claws unsheathing. "Ugh! Why do they even keep you around?"

"Husband need sexy goblin girl. Other girls fine too, but Tink extra special." She grinned. "Nobody smart like Tink."

"Please. You can't even talk straight, you brain-dead—"

Tink leapt from the counter and landed in front of her, fangs bared. She grabbed a handful of fur on Kisa's chest and shoved. Kisa stumbled back into the shelves, causing boxes and cans to spill all around both of them.

"Ow, dammit!" She tried to reach the box of oatmeal that had fallen on the floor, leaning dangerously far forward on her crutches. They wobbled beneath her until they slid away, causing her to land flat on her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as pain shot through both of her legs, and she rolled onto her back to clutch the thick, plaster cast on her left leg. Her right leg was in a brace that bent at the knee, pins holding the thing in place.

"Easy, Kisa." He came in from the next room over. It was a different apartment this time, and when he knelt by her side, he slid one arm behind her and lifted. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I shouldn't have to fucking call you," she snapped. "I need to learn to do this shit on my own."

"Language, Kisa. Just because you are hurt does not mean we have lowered our standards."

"I'm not hurt, I'm crippled!" She picked up one of her crutches and threw it across the kitchen. "The doctors don't even know if I'll walk properly again, much less dance."

"Anyone can dance, Kisa." He picked up her crutch and set it just out of her reach. "Dancing comes from the soul, not the body."

"Yeah, well tell that to the acceptance committee at Julliard!" She threw her other crutch now and clawed at the table in anger. "They don't give a shit about my soul, they want to see me dance. A full ride! They offered me a full ride, and unless you know some miracle man who can fix my legs in the next year, it's gone forever."

He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "More to life than dance, Kisa."

"You and I both know that's the only way I was ever going to go to college. My whole future depended on being able to dance! I haven't just lost my legs, I've lost my will to live." She threw herself forward onto the table and bawled, slamming her fists against the wood of the table. "It's not fair! I've been kicked around my whole life, and just when it was getting good, I get hit by a fucking car!"

The table beneath her hands vanished and she was back in the kitchen with Tink, her back pressed against the shelves. The goblin snarled, lines of exhaustion written across her face.

"More to smarts than big words," she growled, then put her face in her hands and took a step back. "Ugh. No. Tink sorry, no want fight."

Kisa stared at the goblin, her heart pounding in her chest. The flashback this time had not only been intense, but all the rage and misery she had felt back then had somehow carried itself forward in time, and all she could think about was how she had lost everything that mattered to her. Her legs had been crushed, her femur splintered in several places. So many dreams had gone out the window, just like her memories, and all the pent up anger in her body finally had a direction to go.

"Well, I do," she growled, then threw herself at Tink.

The two of them shoved each other around the kitchen, grappling, grunting and claring. More containers fell, splitting open boxes of pasta and a giant bag of rice. The floor became slick with dried goods, so they ended up on the counter, throwing fists and claws at each other. Tink bit into Kisa's shoulder, only to spit out a mouthful of fur. Kisa picked up a jar of spaghetti sauce and smashed it across Tink's eyes, blinding her.