Curse of the Troll

by Emma Hamm

  Such as it was, he looked at these moments as a precious gift.

  The Troll Queen’s lip curled. “Well, isn’t that lovely? The little cursed dwarf has found himself a friend.”

  “She’s a wonderful person.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m certain she’s a wonderful little thing. The Seelie King did find her entertaining for a time. I’m certain she’s told you all about that.”

  Was she trying to get under his skin? Donnacha shook his head and met her gaze. “Of course, she has. Friends tell each other difficulties like that. Did you think her previous marriage would make me think any less of her? That she was some kind of castoff from another man? She’s a person, regardless of her history.”

  The Troll Queen stepped away from him, fading into the shadows of the room beyond. “I don’t care what you think of her, Donnacha. I’ve already brought someone to talk sense into your little…plaything.”

  “Someone?” What did the witch have up her sleeve now? He didn’t want to think what kind of creature she’d pulled out of the woodworks.

  The Troll Queen was connected, he knew that very well. She had so many dark creatures at her beck and call, he didn’t know what to expect. Was it going to be some duchess who owed her a favor? Someone else who had made a deal with the disgusting creature lurking in front of him?

  The grin on the queen’s face said otherwise.

  She laughed, tilting her head back while the stick-like hanks of hair shifted around her face. “Don’t look so frightened, my dear boy. I haven’t brought out the ogres just yet.”

  “Who did you invite to the castle?”

  “Oh, no one particularly terrifying. Just the woman from her past. The one who lives down at the base of the mountain with all her little…children.” The Troll Queen waved a hand in the air. “You know, the one who likes to fight with sticks.”

  “Scáthach?” he asked. “You invited Scáthach here?”

  “Well, not invited really. I just suggested she might need to check in on her little student. After all, your faerie girl hasn’t sent any news back, and it has been months.”

  He frowned. Months? That wasn’t possible. Perhaps a month, that he could believe, but so many months?

  “You brought the castle into the faerie realm,” he muttered, realization dawning on him. “The entire castle?”

  “Oh, dear. Did I not tell you that? Your little faerie woman might be here for a year, but it’s going to be much longer in the human realm.” The Troll Queen shrugged again, her eyes glittering with happiness that he was upset. “I didn’t think she’d mind, considering she’s one of us.”

  “She has business in the human realm.”

  “All faeries do. That’s the best part of our existence. Hopping into the human realm and meddling with their lives gives us purpose. But she can’t ignore her duties for such a long time. Your faerie woman is needed in her homeland. Unless, of course, you’d rather I contact her family and let them know she’d like a visit?”

  He shook his head. Of what he’d heard Elva say, she wouldn’t like to see her family. They were the last people he needed to walk into this castle when she hardly trusted him.

  Yet again, the Troll Queen had backed him into a corner he couldn’t’ get out of. He couldn’t deny Scáthach entrance into his home. She had a right to visit Elva when so much time had passed.

  Donnacha didn’t like it. There was a reason why the Troll Queen invited her in particular, but he couldn’t figure out why. What was she planning?

  Grumbling, he got up onto his feet. “Fine. She’s welcome in my home.”

  “Only if I invite her,” the Troll Queen reminded him.

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  “Now, those are words I like to hear.” She looked him up and down, then lifted a brow in question. “You aren’t worried at all, are you?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Of course, you should. Scáthach would like nothing more than to see you dead. She’d have you removed from this castle faster than you could breathe.”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “She’d have to convince Elva first.”

  The queen pressed a hand against her chest and let out a long breath. “You trust her, don’t you?”

  Did he? Donnacha hadn’t really thought about it so much. He’d simply been enjoying her company. And he did enjoy her company more than he’d enjoyed anyone else’s in a very long time. She made him laugh and think about his life in a light he hadn’t known possible. She was a good person; he knew that to his bones.

  But did he trust her? Apparently so, because he found himself nodding. “I do.”

  The Troll Queen stared back at him, and if he’d thought she was capable of any kind emotion, he might have thought it was sadness in her gaze. “Oh, Donnacha. Haven’t you learned you can’t trust anyone yet?”

  The mirror went dark.

  What did she mean by that? Every time he spoke with her, it felt like he was presented with another puzzle that didn’t make sense.

  The Troll Queen clearly thought Scáthach would come here to make trouble. That was clear enough to him.

  In his dealings with the warrior woman, he’d admit she hadn’t seemed to like him very much. But that didn’t mean she was dangerous or wanted to see him destroyed. In fact, now that his castle had disappeared from the Isle of Skye, she’d likely be more kind to him.

  Unless the Troll Queen knew something he didn’t know. A sick feeling swelled in his stomach, pressing the contents of his belly into his throat. What if he was missing something? What if this was all about to change, and he was going to lose something rather important to him?

  Donnacha blustered down the hall toward the center of the castle where he knew he’d find her. Elva had taken to training every day in the only place where she could. Usually, he accompanied her to comment on her form.

  She didn’t like it when he pointed out that her training was lacking. Scáthach herself had trained Elva, but she was still just a human. Faeries were capable of so much more than humans.

  He lumbered into the gardens, not stopping until he was directly in front of her.

  Elva paused in the middle of her swing, the blade hovering but an inch from his nose. She’d been perfecting a rather difficult spin he’d taught her a few days ago. He’d only seen another faerie do it once, and even that was a man who had been training his entire life in the art of dance.

  But she could do it even better than that man. Elva was the most capable woman he’d ever met in his life. He handed her a problem, and she fixed it. Simple as that. There was no arguing, no questioning; she just took an issue and ran with it.

  The blade shook a moment and then dropped. “What are you doing here?” she snarled. “I could have run you through.”

  “You’re far too careful for that.”

  “It’s a new attack,” she muttered, sliding the blade into the sheath at her hip. “You don’t know I have enough control yet.”

  “You do.” He didn’t question that in the slightest. She wouldn’t have even tried the new move if she hadn’t thought she could control it. Donnacha watched her stare at him for a few moments before he sat on his hind quarters. “Besides, not much can hurt me.”

  She looked up and down his bear form before a small smile appeared on her lips. “Yes, well, I suppose you are right about that.”

  He wanted her to look at him like that every day. The mirth in her expression was enough to remind him that he’d done something good. He’d made her smile, and that lit up the entire castle with her happiness. Or maybe, it was just that it lit him up from the inside out.

  “Listen,” he said clearing his throat, “I’ve been informed we’re accepting a visitor.”

  “Oh, really? I didn’t think many people came to visit you.”

  “They aren’t here for me.” He watched her stride toward the bench where she placed the sword down. “They’re here for you.”

  Elva froze, her hands outstretched a
nd still touching the blade. “Who is it?”

  “Scáthach.”

  “Ah.” The stress eased from her shoulders immediately. She stood straight and turned back to him, a smile safely on her lips. “Well, that’s not so bad then.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that she was coming.” He also wanted to tell her to beware. Something was happening that he couldn’t understand, and she needed to be wary for something that might tear them apart.

  But he couldn’t say that. First, because the curse would never let a single word cross his tongue. And second, because they weren’t at that place yet. She would think him crazy for ordering her around. And he’d think he was crazy for trying to influence her decisions. Then, everything would be shattered because he didn’t trust her enough to let her make her own choices.

  Donnacha tried to smile through the snarl on his face. “Good. Then you’ll be expecting her.”

  “Is she staying long?”

  “The castle won’t let her.” It likely wouldn’t even let her through the front door, but that was something he’d have to fix.

  Unless…

  Footsteps echoed on the ice behind him, crunching as only a human’s feet could do. Scáthach’s voice interrupted them, strong and powerful like a sword slicing through the air. “I believe the castle welcomed me in just fine.”

  He looked over his shoulder with equal parts anticipation and dread. “Scáthach. I had a feeling you’d be joining us today.”

  “Considering you’ve kept her away for months, I think it’s only my right.”

  What right did she have to Elva? He wanted to remind her that she’d thrown this woman away to the bears. Quite literally. She had no claim on Elva or Elva’s life.

  Then again, neither did he.

  Donnacha wanted to stay. He wanted to be part of this conversation, if only to defend himself because Scáthach certainly had nothing good to say about him.

  He could see the anger in her gaze. The way she watched her pupil with calculating eyes. Clearly, she had words to say to Elva and he wouldn’t like a single one.

  But it wasn’t his place. He didn’t have any right to guide Elva’s thoughts in one direction or another.

  Donnacha took a step back and bowed his head. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

  “Thank you,” Scáthach called out.

  “You have until the sun sets,” he replied, trying his best not to growl the words. “Then she’s mine.”

  11

  Elva watched the bear leave, brows furrowed in confusion. Why was he letting Scáthach stay here?

  He had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in having anyone remain in his homeland. Not without his permission and most definitely not if he didn’t trust them. So why was he letting the most fabled female warrior of all time linger? Without anyone to watch over her?

  Scáthach meandered away from Elva’s side, looking up at the icy towers around them. “So, this is where the fabled cursed bear lives.”

  For all that Elva had learned in the human realm, Scáthach was still the woman who had pulled her out of a very difficult time. Elva respected the woman more than she respected her own mother.

  She cleared her throat and made certain the sword at her hip was secured before answering. “It is.”

  “Not what I thought it would look like.”

  “Really?” Elva tried to remember the theories about this place. Had people said it was filled with monsters? She couldn’t really remember. There was something dangerous about the bear, she remembered that part. But she hadn’t ever heard what people thought his home looked like.

  “I’ve always thought it would be a little more masculine. Not quite so…” Scáthach reached out and touched a hand to the ice of the tower. It came away slick. “Feminine.”

  Elva had never thought of it that way before, but her mentor was right. This place was decidedly feminine. A man wouldn’t have chosen to live in ice carved so delicately that it looked like a piece of art every way a person turned.

  Was this another clue? Could she use this to guess who had cursed Donnacha?

  She nodded. “I haven’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. This place doesn’t appear to have been built by a man.”

  Her mentor turned and cast a disapproving look at her. “You’re supposed to be considering all the options here, Elva. That’s why I sent you all this way.”

  She was supposed to, yes. Of course, she remembered her purpose. It was just…difficult when there was so much else happening.

  Her nights were filled with him, the man who had somehow been hidden beneath the fur and mass of a bear. The mystery of this place was connected to him, she was certain of it, as well as the story of the bear and perceived threat to Scáthach’s people.

  They weren’t her people, Elva realized. How could she feel a connection to people who were so angry? Scáthach had amassed all the angry women in the world and collected them in one place, only to send them off on their own lives once she was done with them. That wasn’t a clan. It wasn’t a group of family or sisters. It was just angry women, hoping to save their souls by learning how to punish those who had hurt them.

  Maybe Donnacha was right. Maybe violence wasn’t the only way to fix the way she felt.

  Scáthach watched her with a calculating gaze. “Come, child. Sit with me and tell me everything.”

  She followed her mentor to the bench and sat down next to the woman. For all that she was a dangerous person, Elva still believed the fabled warrior meant well. Scáthach wasn’t the kind of woman trying to make an army of others. She wasn’t leading these women down the wrong path knowingly.

  In the end, Scáthach was human. She didn’t have the centuries of life Elva did, nor did she have immortality on her shoulders. Death would come for her as it had come for all others in her lineage.

  Perhaps death was what made humans so blind to the rest of the world. They focused on themselves entirely, making their life happy for themselves because there was always the inevitable that they wouldn’t have much time left.

  Elva blew out a breath and expelled the story in the next. She held nothing back. Every detail of this place, Donnacha, the man and the bear, all of it until her lungs deflated and her throat ached from the words.

  After it was done, she felt a little bit like a rag that had been wrung out of water. Tired. So very very tired.

  Scáthach ran a hand through her hair. “That is a grievous tale indeed. Not the one I thought you were going to say.”

  “Really?” Elva asked. “Can I know what you thought was happening on this mountain?”

  “I rather thought it was someone from my past coming to haunt me.” Scáthach gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m ever so glad to see it’s not, but I do apologize I brought you into this.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “Now, we need to figure out how to help this man.”

  She couldn’t have startled Elva more if she had said they should tear the castle to the ground. “What?” Elva bit the inside of her lip. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not heartless, Elva. I do not trust men, nor do I think they are a kind lot, but I don’t like to see people who are suffering. This is injustice. No one should have to suffer through a life of a curse.”

  Gods, she agreed. Thank every ancestor that Scáthach saw this situation the way Elva did. With the two of them thinking of a way to break this curse, she was confident there was a fix.

  “What do you suggest?” Elva asked.

  “You said you’ve never seen the man’s face, but you’ve seen the bear quite often?”

  Elva nodded.

  “Then there’s some connection there. He claims you aren’t supposed to see his face, but maybe, just maybe, you’re supposed to.”

  That didn’t seem like a faerie curse. Elva wanted to tell her that, but there was more wisdom in this human woman than most. She gestured for Scáthach to continue.

  “I have a candle in my bag. I
’ve used it most nights to note my journey here through the mists into the realm where both humans and faeries can exist. However, I will give it to you. Light it when he falls asleep and look upon his face. Perhaps that will break the curse.”

  “Or make it worse.”

  “Sitting and doing nothing is certainly making it worse already,” Scáthach replied. She reached into her bag and brought out the nub of wax and wick.

  Elva took it with more than a little trepidation. Would this be going against everything he’d asked of her? Although, he hadn’t really asked for anything as of yet.

  Donnacha had been a perfect gentleman while sharing her space. He’d taken the time to make sure she was comfortable with him being there, to explain he couldn’t change it and wouldn’t have imposed if it had been his choice.

  But he’d never said she couldn’t look at him. He’d never said she couldn’t take matters into her own hands and… what? Violate his privacy in this way?

  Would that make her the biggest hypocrite?

  Scáthach reached out and covered Elva’s hand, curling both their fingers around the candle. “I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. This is a choice you will have to make, as you’ve been here and I haven’t. I will say I think it’s the right thing to do. If I were here, I’d want to do everything in my power to break his curse.”

  “What if it makes everything worse?”

  “Isn’t it better to try something than nothing at all?”

  And therein lay the answer to a question that had been sitting at the back of Elva’s mind. She was a woman of action. She wanted to help, but doing nothing as he expected… It wasn’t going to work for her.

  Scáthach was right. They had to do something, try something, because she wasn’t happy with him suffering like this. A bear during the day, and a man hiding in the shadows at night? That wasn’t a life worth living. She refused to stand by and allow him to suffer like this anymore.

  It was time to take things into her own hands.

  Elva nodded firmly. “I will do what I must. First, I will ask him if I might see his face, though.”