The Troll-Human War

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The Troll-Human War Page 7

by Leah R. Cutter


  “Huh,” Christine said. Did that mean that the oracles were related to angels? Were they beings of light? She’d figured that these oracles were just special humans, maybe some type of human magician, since they only dealt with human fates.

  “Well, it looks as though you won’t have to wait for long,” Christine said as Ko San blew on his whistle, the signal that the tour was about to start.

  There were actually two tours being led that night. Ko San would lead the smaller group, with only about six people in it total, including Dennis and Christine, while Laurie led the other, larger group.

  Was only Ko San’s group going to talk with the oracles? It made sense. The rest of them were human, and for the most part not magical, at least as far as Christine could see.

  “We will start at this end,” Ko San said, leading them to one end of the line of trees, the fossil tree. “These statues were commissioned from the artist Jenn Lee Dixon to commemorate…”

  The words faded, though Christine was trying to pay attention. But someone else was calling her. Not by name. Just something that demanded the focus of her inner being. Christine closed her eyes for a moment so she could listen better.

  A bell-like tone sounded, deep in her bones. It reminded her of the bell that rang when she made a promise, the oath being recorded deep within the earth.

  You have been summoned.

  Christine started, opening her eyes again. She glanced quickly at Dennis. He gave her a wide-eyed look, then nodded.

  Seemed he’d heard something similar.

  The space between the fossil tree and the tree standing next to it briefly lit up. It reminded Christine of that weird lens flare that was so popular with certain movie directors.

  She shook her head. Bad special effects just added to her already poor opinion of the oracles.

  Still, Dennis took a step forward in that direction. He must have seen it too. The rest of the people on the tour seemed oblivious, fascinated by Ko San droning on and on.

  Christine recognized the magic suddenly. It was a minor spell, but he drew all eyes to him, so that no onlooker would see them step away.

  At least the beings running this tour appeared to have their shit together.

  Christine checked again with Dennis. He nodded at her.

  Together, they stepped between the two trees, and into someplace else.

  Christine coughed and blinked her eyes. It reminded her of that one time Tina had talked her into going to a sauna. The heat wrapped around her like a wet blanket, heavy and oppressive. Billows of steam rose up in front of her, blocking the view, making her an easy target. White subway tiles covered the wall she could see, hard and clinical. The air smelled of salt and lemon, like a cheap bar that served tequila by the jug.

  Someone behind them cleared their throat.

  Christine jumped around immediately, raising her hands. Only then did she realize that the illusion of her human body had been stripped away. She stood as herself, muscles, claws, tusks, and all.

  Dennis stood beside her, fully human. He looked younger than he usually did, his face broad and open.

  Was that his true self? So trusting? She’d always thought of him as more of a cynic.

  Guess he really did have hope and optimism, as she once did. Before the war.

  Behind them, a young man sat alone on a ledge coming out from the wall, leaning back. He had black hair that fell over his gray-green eyes like a bad-boy wannabe, light brown skin that could speak either of African American heritage or just a really good tan, a round face that was both young and old at the same time. Maybe it was the light in his eyes that seemed to spear Christine’s very soul.

  He wore just a white towel wrapped around his waist as he lounged in the steam room. Tattoos covered his arms in complete sleeves, though his chest and neck were bare. Christine found her eyes darting toward the ink as she could swear she just saw one of the brilliant hibiscus flowers on his bicep open further.

  “Ah, princess,” the oracle Toby said. “Good to see you again.”

  “Have we met?” Christine asked. She belatedly lowered her clawed hands and straightened up, no longer in a fighting pose.

  Toby gave her a huge grin and bobbed his head slightly. “In a way,” he said. “I wasn’t the one who set your Destiny, but helped the others craft it.”

  “You know my Destiny?” Christine asked, floored. What the hell?

  Was that why the oracles proclaimed the Destiny of certain beings? Because the game was rigged, and they were the ones who had set the Destinies in the first place?

  Toby gave an elaborate shrug, hands falling open to indicate his nonchalance. “I didn’t set it,” he said. “So I can’t really say. That’s one of the tricky things about Destinies. We craft them as carefully as we can, but what parts really take hold in a being is hard to say. Sometimes the whole thing sticks. Other times, just pieces.”

  “Wow,” Christine said. This was making so much more sense. Then she narrowed her eyes at Toby. “You’re speaking really clearly for an oracle.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, that appears to be one of the side effects of moving between this plane and the others. Your memory of this may grow spotty. So I’ll give you as clear a prophecy as I can; however, it isn’t my fault if you don’t remember all of it. You have been warned.”

  Toby’s stature changed with the last words, and his voice grew deeper. Christine would swear that he’d suddenly grown in size as well, his chest filling out and broadening.

  He also began to glow. The light hurt not only Christine’s eyes but her soul.

  Damn it! He wasn’t about to turn into some awful angel, was he?

  But no, that seemed to be the extent of his changes. He stood up, then kept growing, until he towered above them. The towel that he’d been wearing around his waist fell away, but at least the steam rose up to modestly cover him.

  Christine just wasn’t in the mood for a full frontal from some being of light. That might be enough to give her nightmares.

  “Ask your questions,” he intoned.

  Light shone from his eyes like two beacons, the regular irises gone. It was pretty creepy, as though he was in the process of transforming into some damned lighthouse.

  Christine found herself frozen into place. She couldn’t move or speak. Damn it! Was this just a side effect of the oracle transforming? Or some other spell?

  Her magical elements inside of her seemed frozen as well. She could barely sense them, let alone touch or speak with them.

  Maybe this was why the oracles insisted on talking with humans, as most humans were mundane.

  Would Toby have talked with her if she’d brought her dad? She’d have to ask Laurie later.

  After glancing at Christine, Dennis nodded and stepped forward.

  They’d talked about the phrasing of the question that he needed to ask. Christine didn’t know if oracles were like fairies or others of the kith and kin who delighted in taking things too literally—so if you asked for a million bucks, your living room was suddenly filled with male deer. Or if the oracles would twist the words to not actually answer the question you asked.

  Having spoken a bit with Toby, Christine figured that as long as Dennis got across the gist of the question he was asking, they’d be okay.

  Remembering the words the oracle said was going to be the difficulty.

  “How do we end the Great War quickly?” Dennis asked. “Before it spills onto the human plane?”

  They’d talked about stopping Lars, but while Christine suspected that was part of the solution, she needed to ask a more broad question. Perhaps stopping Lars wasn’t the answer. Plus, they didn’t necessarily need to imply that she was part of the solution. Maybe someone else needed to be fighting the final battle.

  “You must assemble the obelisk of truth, and have your warriors pass before it,” Toby intoned.

  “How do we assemble the obelisk of truth?” Dennis asked quickly.

  “The map is underground,” T
oby said. “It will lead you to the pieces.”

  Underground? What the hell? Christine would have gnashed her teeth if she could move. This was what she was talking about when it came to oracles. Why couldn’t he give her a straight answer?

  Where underground? And where were the pieces? And what was the price? And what the hell was an obelisk of truth? What did that look like?

  She knew better than to hope that there might be a book somewhere that described such a marvel, or why it had been disassembled and its pieces scattered. Nobody wrote anything down. She was determined to change that general attitude when she could.

  Before Dennis could ask another question, the steam billowed up in front of them. Christine found she could suddenly move. She took a deep breath and instantly started coughing, as if she’d just swallowed something wrong.

  Christine bent over, her coughing fit continuing, even as she felt the heat that had been oppressing her bleed away. Suddenly, they were in the Bergen Place park again. Christine still stood bent over, coughing. Dennis stood beside her, his hand warm and solid on her back.

  “You okay?” he asked, concerned.

  The rest of the tour group were in the process of moving from the fossil tree to the next one. Probably less time had passed on the human plane than in that damned steam room.

  “Quick,” Christine said, clearing her throat again so she could speak clearly. “What was it the oracle said?”

  Dennis blinked at her. “Oracle?” His eyes took on a distant look. “Something about truth,” he said slowly.

  “Obelisk of truth,” Christine replied. “Help me remember,” she said out loud, asking for her air power to capture her words. “Where is it?”

  “Underground,” Dennis said immediately.

  Christine shook her head. No, that wasn’t right. The obelisk wasn’t underground. The pieces were, though.

  Suddenly, Christine’s air element spoke to her in a deep tone. No, wait, her air power had captured the oracle’s words and was returning them to her.

  She heard the deep tones again, telling her to assemble the obelisk. Pass the troops in front of it. And that the map was underground.

  The words fled away as soon as Christine heard them.

  “Damn it!” she said. She could only personally remember the obelisk of truth. Nothing else.

  Why did the oracles have that effect? Was it just because that would make it too easy? Probably.

  She couldn’t remember anything of Toby either, except that he’d been a big dude, doing his best lighthouse imitation, light streaming from his eyes, ears, and mouth.

  One of her powers—maybe water element—tried to tug on her attention. There was something else that Christine wasn’t remembering.

  Her water element gave her the shape of a regular man.

  Had there been someone else there? And something about her Destiny?

  But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t remember.

  Oracles were just too damned slippery.

  As the tour was finishing up, Ko San talked about the other tours that the Seattle Oracle company gave, such as tours of the Olympic statue garden, Capitol Hill architecture, as well as the Seattle underground tour.

  Christine heard quiet gasps as Ko San listed the places. She felt her own head nodding.

  Seemed as though the oracle had sent others on various quests as well.

  Her own task would be to take the Seattle Underground tour.

  As she came to that conclusion, her air power assured her that it would help.

  Christine was particularly pissed off that she couldn’t remember. However, at least she had a clue. The rest of these poor people didn’t even have that.

  After the tour finished, Christine nudged Dennis with an elbow. “Going to go ask Laurie for her phone number?” she said.

  “Who?” Dennis asked, confused.

  “Laurie,” Christine said. “Little miss perfect?”

  Dennis blinked at her, confused. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “You were all hot and bothered by the other tour guide before we started,” Christine said. She clearly remembered his attraction.

  Dennis looked over at Laurie, standing next to Ko San, chatting easily. She carried the clipboard now, holding it tightly against her chest like a shield.

  “Why would I be interested in her?” Dennis asked, clearly puzzled.

  Christine didn’t know what to say. “Okay, then.”

  “Come on, let’s go. It’s going to be an early morning far too soon,” Dennis said, already walking away.

  Christine glanced over her shoulder at Laurie, who was staring at Dennis, her expression somewhere between hungry and sad.

  Sorry, Christine mouthed as she started walking away.

  She wasn’t about to tell Dennis that he’d been judged by Toby as not being good enough for his relative.

  Then she, too, forgot all about the tour guides as they started walking back to Dennis’s car and she began planning her next trip.

  To take the Seattle Underground tour.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ve never heard of an obelisk of truth,” Nik told Christine, well, truthfully.

  She’d come by early that morning, talking to Nik as he stocked the shelves. As Christine was an occasional employee, he’d keyed the exterior portal to allow her access even if the shop wasn’t open for business.

  Nik had open boxes of charm bags on the front counter, and was counting the colors out before he refilled the shelves, keeping a close eye on the inventory. He’d already restocked the healing potions (including the huge gallon jugs), prayer flags (used to consecrate an army’s staging area), and the barrels of ash (that the demons seemed intent on consuming.)

  None of the posters lining the upper walls needed to be replaced that morning—he generally reserved that task for Mondays. The lights that shone down from the ceiling that morning seemed filtered, as if shining through thick canvas.

  The lights in Nik’s shop always reflected the desire of the buyer, so that they could shop in the illumination they preferred.

  Nik didn’t like to think about what it meant that when he had this place to himself, the lights always reverted to the oldest setting possible, the one Nik remembered from the bad old days and the very first incarnation of his shop—the noon sunlight shining through a canvas tent.

  “Damn,” Christine said, shaking her head. “I’d at least hoped that you’d heard of it. I don’t know what it is, or where to find it, or how to assemble it. Just that it’s underground.” She sighed and growled. “Why couldn’t the damned oracle be more clear?”

  Nik shrugged. He knew the oracle probably had spoken more clearly; however, it was one of their inherent traits that most couldn’t remember the details of meeting one of them.

  Even Nik had only vague memories of his own interactions with the oracles. He’d talked with one, once. Ages ago. Possibly back when he was still one hundred percent human, with a soul and everything.

  But he could never remember the details, what the oracle had said, how Nik had reacted.

  “What can you tell me about the oracles?” Christine asked after a moment. “And their damned quests?”

  Nik gave her a smile. He hoped that she felt how warmly he intended it. “The oracles frequently give out quests or tasks for seekers. It’s like the petitioners have to prove themselves worthy or something.”

  The eyeroll that Christine gave him was perfect in its extreme.

  “In the oracles’ defense, those who have been given a quest or a full Destiny rarely fulfill them,” Nik said.

  “Well, if I could only remember all the parts of it, I’m sure I could do it!” Christine growled.

  “And I think that’s part of it,” Nik said. “I think they can’t just tell people what they need to hear, or they’d negate free will. Or something.”

  Christine grimaced. “Free will and all that is great, if there are still people around to exercis
e it.”

  “Even if the demons win the Great War, there will still be people,” Nik pointed out. “They won’t be wiped out. The Host would never allow that.”

  “What if the Host has also been corrupted?” Christine asked.

  Nik blinked. “Don’t think that’s possible,” he said after a bit.

  “Why not?” Christine said. “Isn’t that what happened to start the races of demons in the first place? Angels who are fallen?”

  Nik had no reply.

  “And don’t get me started on the Creator or God or the actual Devil. No one claims to have met either, not in the flesh. Angels and demons, sure. But the big guys are only ever talked about, never seen,” Christine added hotly.

  Nik nodded, considering his next words.

  “Faith is an important tenant for the religions of the world,” he said. “They all insist on believing in things that aren’t provable, aren’t seen.”

  Now, it was Christine’s turn to shrug. “I’m not saying that the big guys are just a hoax run on the rest of us. But who are they? Really?”

  Nik smiled. “I never expected to be talking with a princess troll about such things,” he told her.

  “A princess troll who is losing her war,” Christine said quietly.

  Nik’s grin increased. “You’ll be fine,” Nik told her confidently. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

  “And what if I don’t this time?” Christine asked. She sounded so worried.

  “Then humanity will spend a while at the bottom of the barrel,” Nik said simply. “Sometimes, I don’t think that would be the worst outcome possible. They might even learn some things as a result.”

  “So many would die, though,” Christine said. “And there’s no guarantee that they’d ever get back on top.”

  “They would,” Nik said. “Though you doubt the existence of one of the big guys as you call them, I’ve seen enough of the shadows that they throw not to completely write them off. Sooner or later, the world would turn again.”

  “Thank you,” Christine said.

  “For what?” Nik asked. He hadn’t been able to answer any of her questions. He couldn’t give her true help, or else his precious neutrality would be called into question and he’d lose his immortal life.

 

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