by Emma Hamm
Instead of saying all that, Donnacha reached forward and touched a lock of her greasy hair. “That’s a secret for me to keep.”
“But why?” She pouted. “I want to know what your secret is! I’m good at keeping them.”
He was certain that was a lie. She seemed like the kind of creature who would have blabbed whatever she wanted to whomever would listen. But that was all right. He wasn’t going to tell her a thing, no matter how much she begged.
Donnacha shook his head and stepped back. “Another time, my bride. Now, let’s go out into the world and let the entire kingdom see us.”
The troll princess snapped her fingers, and the guards approached. They were much taller than her, blocks of gray stone that hardly looked like they should be able to move. Their armor was made of rock as well, something he’d have to ask his dwarven family how it was possible. He thought perhaps it was magic, which made them all the more dangerous.
He only came up to their hip anyway, it didn’t make sense for him to fight. They’d pound him into the ground, as the princess had so eloquently said, before he had any idea what was happening. And he much preferred to stay alive and well.
The troll princess immediately approached him. She smelled like wet earth, mulch that had festered and was now filled with mold. His nose wrinkled, but he stayed where he was. If the guards saw him flinch, they’d likely toss him toward her. And once the princess had her fingers in him, he wasn’t sure she’d ever let go.
He winced when she leaned close and sniffed him. “Oh, you’re going to be the most lovely pet I’ve ever had,” she murmured.
“Glad to know that.”
“You should be much happier to have my attentions, you know. Most people would kill for them.”
Or to get away from them, he thought. Semantics really.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Come on then, follow me.”
He trailed after her and tried his best not to look into the other dungeon cells. He already knew what manner of creatures were there. It might have been easier if he’d seen other faeries of his own kind. If the trolls hated other people more than they hated each other.
That was not the case. Instead, the dungeon was filled with hundreds of other trolls, creatures whose rock-like skin had since cracked from misuse. Whose haunted eyes watched him with curiosity and hunger.
They would have eaten him if he wandered into one of their cells. He was certain of that. One of the creatures had even grown into the wall of his cell. Desperation sometimes led trolls to becoming part of the earth. They thought it was a way for them to get their power back. Unfortunately, it rarely worked. From what Donnacha had heard, it was a fitting death for those who tried to steal from the Otherworld itself.
Up the stairs, they went into a sun that blinded him. He held up a hand to his stinging eyes, shocked at how bright it was. Had it always been daylight here? He’d thought the Troll Kingdom was stormy.
“Donnacha!” the Troll Queen called out. “How lovely to see you’re still alive. My daughter hasn’t killed you yet, then.”
“Your hospitality has left nothing wanting,” he muttered.
“Glad to hear it. Tie him onto a horse. Would one of you useless idiots do something for once?”
A guard picked him up under the arms and plopped him on top of the nearest horse. Donnacha scrambled for the reigns, shocked they’d handled him like a child. It was exceedingly rude to just pick up a dwarf. Gods, he hated these people.
Why weren’t the others riding? When Donnacha’s eyes finally adjusted, he realized the trolls were just…standing there. Waiting for him to be ready. When he was situated, the princess stood next to him. Her head was at his height now, even though he was atop a horse. How large was this woman? He’d forgotten what she looked like while he was in a human form, and not through the fog of a mirror.
Beady eyes stared up at him with far too much interest. “You’re much more handsome up close.”
“Thank you,” he muttered.
The Troll Queen called the march to begin, and the trolls moved forward as one. There weren’t gates to the castle. Instead, there was a line of trolls as far as the eye could see standing in front of them in a line.
The princess waved to everyone as she walked, although she didn’t look as though she truly recognized any of them. In fact, no one seemed happy to be there at all. The trolls on the sidelines were glaring at the others as if they wanted to start a fight.
Donnacha tried to remember his limited knowledge of these creatures. There weren’t nobles other than the royal family. Which meant the creatures walking with him had to be chosen by the queen. Such a choice would certainly make some of them very uncomfortable. In fact, he could tell they wanted to see blood spilled.
He didn’t need to get caught in the middle of a troll fight. He wouldn’t survive.
Blowing out a nervous breath, he glanced around, watching for any kind of weapon to be drawn. So far, he was lucky that no one threw a fist. But there was a long way to go.
He desperately wished for his own weapons. A sword, an axe, anything that he could have thrown at an enemy or sank between a troll’s ribs. Swords weren’t likely to cut through troll flesh, but a man could dream.
Then he saw it. The sudden flash of light that was too bright to be a troll and far too vivid to be something troll-made.
Gold.
She was here. That had to be her. He tried not to crane his neck to stare through the crowd of trolls, but he was certain that was Elva. It had to be.
He twisted in the saddle only to have his face caught in the hand of the troll princess. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“There isn’t another troll here who’s more beautiful than me. You’ve already got the best one.” Her fingers squeezed his jaw painfully. “Stare at me if you wish to stare.”
Donnacha winced, then looked forward. “You’ve got it, bride of mine.”
Stomach churning, he watched the road in front of them for the rest of the ride. Was she here? Had she finally made it?
16
Elva crouched in the bushes beside Angus. The bugganes were so close she could smell them, and it wasn’t a pleasant smell in the slightest. She forced her hand to stay at her side instead of covering her mouth as she desperately wanted to.
“Well, we’re here,” she hissed. “Now what?”
Angus silenced her with a glare and then pointedly stared at the bugganes mere steps from them.
They were gigantic creatures who were sorely lacking in looks. Covered entirely with coarse black fur, they looked more like animals than fae. Of course, their glowing red eyes and large tusks curving up from their bottom lip didn’t help either.
Three of them stood in front of the bushes, muttering about some food they needed to find. Or cook? Elva had a hard time understanding them when the tusks made their words lisp.
Elva leaned closer to Angus so the bugganes wouldn’t hear her speak. “What’s the plan?”
“We wait until we have an opening.”
“I think there’s an opening in front of us.”
“They will kill us if we barge into their camp. They aren’t exactly the most intelligent of creatures and are prone to knee-jerk reactions.”
She arched a brow. “Are you afraid of them?”
He jerked as if she had shot him. “Afraid of bugganes?”
“It seems like you are.”
“I’m not afraid of faeries.”
Right. She somehow very much didn’t believe that when he was already casting a nervous glance at the three bugganes who might overhear them.
“I should never have doubted you, Your Majesty. My apologies.” Elva shook her head at him, then stood up.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, tugging at her pant leg.
“Finishing this.” She didn’t have time to waste because he was afraid of what these creatures might do. Who cared if the beasts wanted to fight them? She had a sword and h
ad the training to take them down. Somehow, she doubted they would attack them on sight.
Bugganes might be terrifying-looking creatures, but they weren’t as stupid as trolls. They knew how to speak with others and had created an entire homeland for themselves. They didn’t attack faeries; they didn’t cause trouble. In fact, most of the other faerie species had forgotten they existed at all.
That didn’t seem to be a race of creatures who wanted to hurt others. Not in her experience with the rather dangerous and terrifying Seelie Court.
She strode from the bushes, shaking off Angus’s hand, and made her way toward the three bugganes.
“Good morning,” she called out. “I’d like to ask you a question if I might.”
The buggane closest to her immediately fluffed up. Its fur pointed out in all directions and it whirled on her with a growl that blasted Elva’s hair back from her face.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she wiped away a spot of spit that had stuck to her cheek. “Well, that’s one way to welcome visitors.”
The other two bugganes loomed closer, while the one who had growled straightened. “Who are you trespassing upon our lands?”
“My name is Elva. Lovely to meet you.” She held out the hand which was now slick, resolving to wipe the creatures own bodily fluids back on it.
The buggane reached forward and shook her hand.
They were suspicious of her, and she couldn’t really blame for them. After all, it was a dangerous thing to see another faerie wander into their territory without reason. And she was wearing a sword to boot. She just hoped they didn’t think she was going to attack them. She didn’t want to have to draw said sword any time soon.
“I need you to take me to the troll kingdom,” she said. It was better to simply say why she was there than keep them waiting.
The buggane holding her hand coughed. “You what?”
“The Troll Queen has someone who is very important to me in her dungeons, I assume, and I want him back. I’ve been told you are the only creatures who know how to get there.”
“We’re not taking you to the troll kingdom.”
Elva blinked. “Why not?”
“Well, it’s dangerous ma’am.”
“The kingdom or the journey?”
The buggane looked over its shoulder at the other creatures behind it, clearly confused at the direction this conversation was going. “Both?”
“You don’t sound very confident in that answer. I need you to be more confident.”
“I—well—you see—”
Elva interrupted the creature, not quite pleased with how it was responding. “I need to go now. There’s no time to waste. Can one of you take me, or do I need to ask someone else?”
The largest buggane of the group stepped forward, peering over the other’s shoulder with beady, glowing eyes. “Who are you?”
“I’ve already told you that.”
“Yes, but…aren’t you afraid of us?”
“No.” She shrugged. “I don’t think I’m afraid of much, honestly.”
Her hand dropped as the closest buggane backed into its friend away from her. “What manner of creature are you?”
“Seelie.”
“And you aren’t afraid of the troll kingdom?”
Elva pretended to think about the question, then shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I need my friend back, and fear is only going to stand in my way. He taught me that letting fear rule my life is a waste of time. And I want him back.”
“Why do you want him back?” The buggane leaned closer until Elva could smell the wet dog scent of its fur. “What is he to you?”
Gods, she didn’t know how to answer that. There were too many avenues she could take. Instead, she ended up being truthful. “I don’t really know, to be honest. But I’d like to find out, so I need you to take me to him. I need to find out what he is to me.”
The buggane clasped its hands to its chest and sighed. “Oh, a love story.”
Elva held up her hand. “That’s not what I said—”
“You love him!”
“I really don’t think that’s the reason I want to find him, and besides—”
The buggane held up its hand, mirroring her movements and censoring her with a harsh look. “We love love stories. There’s nothing we honor more than a woman trying to find her mate.”
Her mate? She didn’t have a mate, and Elva didn’t believe in soulmates to begin with. Love was finding someone she could stand living with until she couldn’t stand them anymore.
But then again…maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she was wrong.
“Oh!” The buggane turned and slapped the shoulder of the one behind her. “Did you see? Did you see the moment she realized?”
“I don’t love him,” Elva said again. It wasn’t possible that she loved him. They’d only known each other under strange circumstances and for such a short time. She’d have to be mad to fall in love with a man that quickly.
Even if he was kind and thoughtful. Even if he understood what was going through her mind, and when he didn’t, he gave her the space to figure it out on her own. It didn’t matter that he’d seen more than just her beauty but her strength as well, and no one else had ever seen that in her. That didn’t matter. It couldn’t be love. Not this soon.
The buggane watched her carefully and then nodded firmly. “I’ll take you.”
One of the other creatures, the one who hadn’t spoken yet, whispered, “My love—”
“No.” The buggane shook her head. Elva was certain it was a “she” now. “I’ve made up my mind. I want to take her. And in return, she’ll tell me the entire story so I can tell the others over the fire.”
A small price to pay. Elva glanced back at the bushes she’d come out of and signaled a thumbs up to Angus. The dwarf wasn’t visible, but she was certain he was watching. She hadn’t wanted him to come with her anyway. This was a journey that was far better off on her own.
“All right,” Elva said. “Do you need to get ready?”
“Not at all.” The buggane held out its arms. “Come along, faerie. I’ll carry you the whole way.”
She was going to have to be close to all that wet fur? Elva tried not to wrinkle her nose. It would take her years to wash the smell off her skin. The things she was doing for this foolish dwarf who’d gotten himself into a ridiculous mess. Donnacha had better appreciate her efforts to find him.
Elva stepped into the creature’s arms and let it sweep her up. The journey was swift, over the hills and dales as only a buggane could run. Elva was shocked at the creature’s pace. She’d known bugganes were quick, but she hadn’t realized their magic was in their ability to travel from place to place.
The creature ran like the wind itself was underneath its feet. They raced past villages without a single person seeing them. The fur rustled around her, but it didn’t seem as though they were running that fast. She would have thought it was only a comfortable lope if she hadn’t seen the earth moving by them so quickly.
“Tell me the story,” the buggane whispered, its voice somehow easy to hear even though they were running.
And so, Elva did.
She left out no detail, even her own emotions that she hadn’t given words to yet. She poured all her abilities of storytelling into the tale. She embellished the cursed bear, the ice castle, the places outside of the world they knew.
Each moment she said something remotely romantic, the buggane would sigh in her ear. Elva admitted the story did seem fantastical. Now, she was racing to the man’s side so that they could defeat the Troll Queen and take down a kingdom of evil creatures who punished those who didn’t deserve to be punished.
She’d never been a woman who wanted to be a hero. In the beginning, she just wanted to live a quiet life of luxury, and then it turned into wanting a life that was just quiet, solitary. Elva had wanted to learn how to protect herself, to push everyone away so no one could hurt her again.<
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Until a bear appeared. A terrifying, monstrous creature who could have torn her limb from limb easily. Except, he hadn’t. He’d been kind, sweet, and generous in his ability to understand her pain and hardship.
By the time they stopped, she felt as though all her emotions had been wrung out. Maybe they had. She didn’t know how the bugganes found their magic. Perhaps, they were creatures who ate stories like this.
The buggane let her down and patted the top of her head. “You’ve done well, little faerie. Now, go find your man.”
“But where are we?”
The buggane pointed down the hill they were on. “There’s your troll kingdom. Might I suggest starting with the princess? She’s your best bet at learning how to get in there.”
As the creature behind her raced away, Elva feasted her eyes on the kingdom below. Stone buildings, roughly hewn and clearly without any guidance, dotted the horizon. Twin lines of creatures stood at the roadside, and they were more disgusting than she’d ever seen before. She thought the bugganes were hard to look at? The trolls were even worse.
Stone hides, leather, bark, all the textures that shouldn’t have been on a creature’s body. Not to mention the sparse hair growing in places it shouldn’t grow, the small eyes, the tusks, even strange second limbs poking out of backs.
These creatures were more than just disgusting. They were grotesque.
Elva reached into the pack Angus had given her and dragged out a cloak. It would cover her form enough for her to see what was going on. All the trolls were lined up like they were waiting for something, and she needed to know what that was.
Throwing the fabric over her shoulders, she slid down the hill and into the crowds of trolls.
No one looked at her. In fact, they weren’t even looking at each other. They were staring at a procession coming down the hill.
Trolls? She hadn’t thought they would have a procession like that. They weren’t exactly known to like each other, and having an entire kingdom watching them would only invite battles no one wanted to deal with. So what in the world were they doing?