Curse of the Troll

by Emma Hamm

  She must have made some noise because Angus looked up with an amused expression. “Easy, faerie. I’ve no intention of cutting through you as well.”

  “Doesn’t mean you won’t slip.”

  “Do I look like the kind of man who slips?”

  If he was anything like his cousin, no. And she was certain Donnacha and Angus were related now. If she’d had any doubt, the mischief in his smile would have told her everything she needed to know.

  The far darrig bolted the moment he started to saw through her bindings. Elva glared after them, praying she would someday have the time to hunt them down.

  “Oh, go easy on them,” Angus said with a laugh. “They were just doing what they were told.”

  “Doesn’t mean they had to hogtie me.”

  “Would you have come otherwise?”

  The moment she was free, she sat up, looking around, rubbing her wrists. This was the entrance to the dwarven kingdom. She’d heard of the great carved warriors standing outside the opening to the giant mine. She’d just never thought it would be so big.

  Everything here was beautifully made but roughly hewn. Clearly designed with masculine intent, every bit of this place was terrifying. The dim light, the scowls on the warriors faces as they held swords aloft. Even the dark abyss awaiting her in that hole.

  Elva shook her head. “No, probably not.”

  “Then I’m afraid you really left me no choice.” Angus held out his hand for her to take. “Here, let me help you.”

  As if she was going to touch him that easily. Elva ignored the offered appendage and hopped down from the wooden cart herself. “Thanks.”

  He looked down at his hand and then at her. “You’re welcome?”

  Elva wiped her hands on her pants. Gods, she didn’t even like the idea of touching him. It instantly made her palms slick with sweat. “What do you want, Angus?”

  “Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable to talk?” He gestured toward the hole in the mountain and reached forward to place his hand on her shoulder blade.

  She knew he didn’t mean it to be an aggressive gesture. She knew most people would have taken the assistance with a grain of salt. He was trying to be supportive, to give her a chance to lean on someone after her mistreatment.

  But her mind didn’t think like that. Instead, her hand snapped out to meet his, and she yanked his fingers back so hard she felt them pop. “Do not touch me.”

  He let out a sound somewhere between gasp and chuckle. “All right then, that’s fine. I just thought you’d like to sit down after that unfortunate journey.”

  “The one you ordered to happen.”

  “I’ll admit I didn’t expect them to treat you like that—”

  “That’s exactly what you expected. Don’t even try to twist your words with me Angus. What do you want?”

  He reached out with his free hand and gently pried her off him. Shaking the wounded fingers, he shook his head. “My, but you are a terrifying thing now, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “Neither am I. You were with my cousin, were you not? Donnacha?”

  Elva nodded.

  “Then I think we both have the same plan. I don’t know what you did to anger the Troll Queen like you did, but she’s most definitely got him now, and that I cannot stand for.”

  “Wait,” Elva held up her hand. “The Troll Queen cursed him?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “He couldn’t.” Everything made so much more sense now. Of course, it had to be someone like the Troll Queen. That curse hadn’t been entirely intelligent, but it was most certainly effective. The woman had somehow managed to bind Donnacha to herself and then wrapped the curse in whatever safety nets she could.

  Efficient, but certainly not the best way to trap someone else.

  Elva looked at Angus, then back at the hole in the ground. She really didn’t want to go into the mines. They were dark, and faeries liked to see the sky more than anything else. Sighing, she shook her head and stalked toward the abyss. “Fine, talk while you walk.”

  She swore he grumbled, “I don’t understand what he sees in you.”

  Ignoring whatever words he had said, she pointed toward their destination. “What do I have to do?”

  “Walk?”

  “Is there some kind of pulley system to lower us into the ground?”

  “No.”

  Elva nearly stumbled over a root. “Excuse me? Everyone says the dwarves live underground.”

  He shrugged and overtook her. Though his legs were shorter, he was a surprisingly quick little dwarf. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. That’s the entrance to the dwarven kingdom, but I don’t want everyone else to see you. They aren’t particularly fond of Donnacha, and helping him would anger a few people I don’t want to anger.”

  “Really?” Elva followed Angus into the bushes and to the side of a stone warrior. “Who’s that?”

  Between the feet of the giant sculpture, a small hut stood. A fire burned merrily behind the windows and smoke rose from the brick chimney. Thick logs made up the walls, and a small rocking chair sat outside the dark wood door.

  Quaint, really. She might have even liked the home if she wasn’t so upset.

  Angus strode to the front door and held it open for her. “There are a lot of dwarves who think someone cursed is beyond our help. We should leave them to their own devices because, if we let them come home, they’ll bring the curse back with them.”

  “Not if you break it,” she grumbled as she strode past him.

  “Try explaining that to the ancient dwarves, would you? I haven’t had much luck.”

  “No, thank you for the opportunity, though.” She’d rather burn off her fingertips. Dwarves were annoying at best, and downright rude at worst.

  The interior of the hut was as cute as the outside. Checkered blankets covered a small cot in the corner. Burning logs filled a stone fireplace on the back wall, and twin chairs sat next to the dancing flames.

  Angus gestured to one of the chairs. “Food? Water?”

  “Both.” She sank onto the fur-covered rocker and stared into the fire. What was she doing here? There was always the option of going home. She could walk right back to the Seelie court and into her old life. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t even know where home was anymore.

  Although, Donnacha had been teaching her what that meant.

  Angus returned, handed her a goblet full of water and a loaf of bread, then sat down beside her. “What do you want with Donnacha?”

  She raised a brow. “Try again with another question.”

  “No, I want to know. You were at that castle for an awfully long time, and you’ll have to excuse me when I say I don’t trust you. I don’t think you were there because you saw some poor cursed sap and thought you might help him. So out with it.”

  “How do you even know all that?”

  Angus chuckled. “Dwarves have their ways. He’s my cousin, Seelie. I never lost track of him, even in the darkest of times.”

  Elva busied herself with drinking the water. Then, when he kept staring at her, she shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “You could start with the truth.”

  “There’s no truth. I was there because Scáthach asked me to be.”

  “And?”

  She shoved the bread in her mouth, purposefully chewing with it open when he got too close with the staring. “What’s it to you?”

  “He’s my cousin.”

  “So? I’ve seen faeries kill family every day. What does it matter that the Troll Queen has him?” It mattered more than the breath in her lungs. Feeling her expression shift, she looked back at the fire instead of meeting the pain in his gaze.

  “You feel something for him,” Angus said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s what it is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do
. You feel something for him, and you don’t want to let him go.”

  “I don’t feel anything for him. I don’t even know the man. He couldn’t talk about himself at all, and he was cursed as a bear. Do you really think much talking happened?”

  Angus leaned forward. “Then why are you still here, Elva? Why are you here when you could have walked away? Why is there interest in your eyes every time I start talking about saving him?”

  He was asking too many questions. He was too close. Had it gotten hot in this small room all of a sudden? She needed to go outside and catch her breath. She needed…

  Him.

  Donnacha had been the first person who had helped her breathe around another living person. She’d just been getting to the point where she could touch him without feeling like she was going to fly apart.

  Why couldn’t she feel the same with this dwarf? It didn’t make any sense!

  She leaned forward and mirrored Angus’s position. “Because I’m not done with him yet.”

  “Sexually?”

  “No.”

  “Emotionally?”

  “Hardly.”

  Angus shook his head. “You’ve got to give me more than that. Otherwise, I’ll save him myself.”

  “You’ll never get close enough to the Troll Queen to touch him.”

  “Dwarves are much smaller and easier to ignore than a faerie.” He laced his fingers together over a knee and tilted his head to the side.

  A challenge? Elva leaned back in her chair and rested her hands in her lap. “They already have one dwarf, Angus. Do you think they really won’t notice two? They’re looking for a dwarf constantly.”

  “At least I know I can trust one of my own.”

  “You can’t trust anyone,” she murmured, feeling the shadows of her past darken her gaze. “As a king, I thought you’d know that.”

  He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Fine. Fine, this is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I believe you. You want to find him.”

  “I do.”

  “You somehow have made a connection with him that is neither emotional or physical, although I doubt this completely.”

  She did as well, but he didn’t need to know that. As long as Elva kept telling herself there was no connection between them, then there was no connection. She could survive this as she had survived so much more.

  Nodding, she stuck out her hand. “Deal. Now, I have to go, so if you can provide me with armor and a sword.”

  He tilted his head to the side with an unimpressed expression. “Elva. I have been planning this rescue since the first moment Donnacha was cursed. Do you think I don’t have a plan?”

  “I think if you had a plan, you wouldn’t need me.”

  Angus tilted his head to the other side and nodded. “Well, you aren’t wrong there. But I did make a pack for you. Did he tell you where the Troll Kingdom is? It always seems to move.”

  “East of the sun, west of the moon.”

  “Right. So an impossible place.” Angus scrubbed a hand through his beard, a move Donnacha made right before he was about to suggest something ridiculous. “Well, there are a few people I know who might help.”

  She knew what he was going to say. She’d had the same thought herself, but she didn’t want to owe any other faeries debts, and she most certainly would.

  “Do not say—”

  “I was going to suggest—”

  “Bugganes.”

  “Bugganes.”

  Elva threw her hands up in the air. “Absolutely not.”

  “They are basically trolls,” Angus cajoled. “It makes sense they would know where the Troll Kingdom is.”

  “They aren’t trolls. They are stupid, ridiculous creatures who have rocks for brains. I am not going to beg them for a favor. Do you know what they’d do to me?”

  Angus gave her a once-over and grinned. “For a lock of your hair, I think they’d do anything.”

  “How dare you?”

  “It’s just hair.”

  She didn’t want faeries having a bit of who she was. That was more dangerous than giving them a spell to curse her with. Huffing out a breath, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not happening.”

  He reached under his chair and tossed the pack at her. “Get yourself ready, Elva. The bugganes aren’t that far from here.”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “Do you want to find Donnacha?”

  Of course, she did. She wanted to understand why he made her feel like a person and not like something broken. She wanted to understand why he made her feel the way she did. Why he made her feel whole when she’d spent so many years certain there were cracks running down her entire being that everyone could see.

  Finally, she punched the arm of the chair and stood. “Yes, fine. But you’re leading the way, and if they want a deal, you’re taking the fall for it.”

  15

  Long nails clicked on the bars to his cell, as they had every morning for the past week. Donnacha knew it had been exactly seven days because he’d scratched a mark on the wall every day he was in this hellish place. Seven marks under the smallest window he’d ever seen.

  The cot they’d given him was little more than two boards with fabric stretched between them. It was uncomfortable, though that was likely the point. The Troll Queen wouldn’t want him to think this was a good place for him to be. She wanted to punish him for playing his little games.

  Still, at least he’d won something over her.

  “Huuuusbaaaand!” The word was long and drawn out, sung off tune as the Troll princess made her way toward him.

  She’d taken to calling him the name ever since he’d told her about weddings. She’d told him she quite liked the idea of binding him to her for all eternity.

  He didn’t want to even think about such a fate. He had to cling to the hope that Elva would come for him. Hadn’t he asked her to? Hadn’t he begged in those last moments when her taste still lingered on his tongue?

  Donnacha couldn’t imagine she’d just let him go. Of all the women he’d ever known, she was the kind of person to value action. She would want to race after him. To find him.

  Right?

  The clanging sound echoed so strongly in his cell that he had to turn his head. Looking through the bars at the creature beyond made his stomach roll. Her tusks were even more pronounced today, if that was possible. The straggly hair on her head, really only three clumps, were tied back with a bright pink bow. The frilly dress covering her body flounced with every movement.

  He reminded himself that being this shallow served no one well. He didn’t need to be attracted to her. Even if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he couldn’t forget her ripping off those poor birds heads. He couldn’t forget the mistreatment of her people and the spoiled personality that poisoned her veins. She was a creature whose inner ugliness had poured out into her skin. That was all.

  Still, his lip curled up at the sight of her. “What do you want?”

  She pouted. “You’re supposed to be happy to see me.”

  “And why would I be happy to see you?”

  “Because Mummy said…” She stamped her foot on the ground, obviously frustrated. “You’re supposed to do what I say! You’re mine.”

  “A person can’t be someone’s plaything, princess.”

  “They can if I make them!” The troll princess smacked her fist against the bars. “If they don’t, I’ll pound them into the ground until they behave.”

  “If you pound them into the ground, then they’ll be dead.” It was like explaining cause and effect to a child. She was older than him! She should know all of this already.

  But she didn’t. Donnacha reminded himself to be patient. Spoiled rotten and someone whose mother had made her the way she was. He had to be gentler. More understanding.

  Even though he didn’t want to be.

  Donnacha rolled and planted his feet on the ground, rubbing his hands over his fac
e. “What is it you want, princess?”

  “We’re going to go out today! Isn’t it wonderful? Mummy said she wanted everyone in the kingdom to see your failure. It will make us both laugh.”

  Because the other trolls would attack him? No, they wouldn’t risk him to something so foolish as that. Perhaps the Troll Queen had something else up her sleeve, but that didn’t matter. He could survive this just as he had the other curse.

  He pushed himself to standing and sighed, holding his arms up. “Fine then. When are we going?”

  She twirled a finger in the thin threads of her ponytail. “Right now.”

  “Are you going to dress me in something other than this?” Donnacha had been in the dungeons for an entire week now with nothing more than meager water and bread. He smelled to the high heavens. It was even starting to bother him now, which is when he knew it was getting bad. His beard was a mess, his hair a tangled rat’s nest, and his shirt was sticking to his chest from the layers of sweat. He desperately wanted a bath. He needed to feel clean so he could feel like a person again.

  The troll princess shook her head. “No, Mum doesn’t want you to have a bath. She said let him go as he is.” She looked him up and down with hungry eyes. “I agree.”

  Donnacha scrambled for the right words. “Everyone will think you’re marrying a disgusting beast. Is that what you want?”

  The troll princess pressed her tiny breasts against the bars. “Are you a beast, dwarf? That’s what I like to hear. You’ll need to be animalistic to survive when I’m done with you.”

  Gods, he was going to vomit. He looked for the waste bucket and realized they’d already taken it for the next hour. What was he going to do? Puke straight down her front and ruin all the good he’d done?

  He had to continue this plan. The princess had to be in his back pocket, or everything would fall apart at the seams. She was the one pulling her mother’s strings, which meant if he could pull her strings, then his life might not be that bad after all.

  Donnacha stepped forward. Smiling through the disgust, he said through clenched teeth, “I am looking forward to being seen by your side.”

  Her eyes glazed over. “Tell me why.”

  Because he wanted the entire kingdom to remember his face when he escaped. Because he forever wanted to be known as the man who fooled the Troll Queen and her ugly daughter.