Sandor muttered something under his breath, and Sophie had a feeling she was discovering at least one of the reasons Ro was so very anti-Bo.
“All that matters,” Bo continued, “is that if you trust me with your life, you won’t be disappointed. You’ll soon find that you don’t need any of these other protectors.”
“So you keep claiming,” a droll female voice noted from the general direction of a nearby tree. Sophie craned her neck, trying—and failing—to catch a glimpse of her as the voice added, “And yet, we’re here to handle threats that involve some from your species, aren’t we, Bo? Meanwhile my people have kept themselves separate from this foolish drama. So I’ll have nothing slowing my hand when the time comes.”
“Neither will I!” Bo snarled. “I’m looking very forward to ending the lives of the fools who dared to think themselves mightier than my king. One in particular.”
“Then your hunger for revenge will distract you from your other responsibilities,” the female argued. “Either way, it’s a liability. Whereas I’ll be entering each fight without any connection or agenda. No elf, goblin, ogre, or dwarf can say the same. Even you, little gnome—you carry the hate for what these villains tried to do to your species in your heart.”
“And you think that makes you more valuable than us?” Bo snapped.
“That, and I’m a better fighter,” she said, finally stepping out to face them.
“Sophie, this is Tarina,” Grady said, introducing her. Sophie had already guessed, even though the female looked nothing like the other trolls she’d seen.
Tarina was neither tall nor short, neither lean nor muscular—but her averageness ended there. Her greenish hair grew in strands as wide as dreadlocks, but they had a smooth, glossy sheen—the same sheen that coated her blue-green skin, making her look like she’d just stepped out of water. Her huge yellow eyes filled the top half of her face, and her nearly lipless mouth took up most of the lower half, with a small snub nose jutting above it. She stood barefoot and wore only a shaggy gray-green garment that covered her from her shoulders to her knees. Sophie had assumed it was made of fur, but when Tarina drew closer, Sophie realized it was actually made from some sort of moss. And tucked among the thick, scratchy-looking lichen was a strap that hung diagonally across Tarina’s body and wrapped around her back, where Sophie could see the edges of a large iron weapon peeking out—some sort of cross between a scythe and an ax, with a sharp point on the end of the pole for stabbing.
“It’s okay to stare,” Tarina said, her voice taking on a chirpy quality. “Empress Pernille warned me that you’re not familiar with my species.”
“Sorry,” Sophie mumbled, lowering her eyes. “I was just trying to compare you to the other trolls I’ve seen, and—”
“So you can understand me!” Tarina interrupted, and Sophie realized they must’ve switched to speaking in Trollish. “The empress told me you were fluent, and that your accent was flawless, but I’ll admit, I had a hard time believing it. And you can do this with any language, can’t you? It’s one of those . . . What is it your species calls them? Special abilities?”
Sophie nodded. “I’m a Polyglot.”
Tarina smiled, flashing unnervingly long white teeth, which matched the curved white claws on her hands and feet. “It’s so strange that elves each have different talents. I don’t know how you aren’t constantly battling with each other over which of you is greater—though I suppose that’s what’s happening with these enemies, isn’t it?”
“Partially,” Sophie admitted. “But there’s more to it than that.”
“There always is,” Tarina agreed.
“Is there a reason you’re speaking in a language the rest of us can’t understand?” Bo demanded to know.
Tarina gave him epic side-eye. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, ogre,” she said, switching back to the Enlightened Language. “But in my world, we take time to understand the perspectives of those we’re assigned to protect. That’s easier for me to do in my native tongue—and since Sophie’s fluent, I’m hoping she doesn’t mind humoring me.”
“I don’t,” Sophie agreed, and Tarina smiled and stepped closer—close enough for Sophie to see that there was a word etched into the strap holding her weapon.
Tarina followed her gaze. “Can you read our writing as well?” Her voice sounded chirpier, which probably meant she’d shifted languages again.
Sophie squinted at the letters. “Does that say ‘long shot’?”
“It does. We name our weapons as part of our training, and I chose this to remind myself that even when all hope feels lost, I can continue fighting. A sentiment I’m sure you can appreciate—which is rare for your species, isn’t it? Elves generally live their glittering lives oblivious to most of this planet’s harsh realities. But not you. You also have an incredibly rare worldview from your years living with humans. I’d wager you see things drastically differently than any of us do. And while my people may not be connected to these current problems your world is facing—we’re no strangers to war. We know how evil spreads like a virus without any cure. Which is why the empress sent me on this assignment, despite the fact that it requires working alongside those who, another time, another place, would gladly choose to slit my throat. It’s also why I’m taking this chance to speak candidly to you.”
Grady moved to Sophie’s side, wrapping an arm around her, as if he could sense the slight tension knotting her shoulders. “Everything okay?”
“Yep,” Sophie said, hoping it was true.
The conversation felt like it was curving, and Sophie couldn’t figure out where it was heading. Especially when Tarina added, “We know nothing of this organization you serve—this Black Swan, as you call it—but we know the elvin Council has never fully provided the support my species needs. That’s why long ago one of our empresses chose to partner with an elf she trusted instead—someone with the power, intelligence, and determination to stand up for what was right, even when it meant stepping outside the law and forging brave new ground. It’s the reason my people still stand strong today. But your world is changing—and therefore our world is changing. So we believe the time has come for us to forge another crucial alliance. And Empress Pernille would like to forge that alliance with you.”
TWENTY-NINE
YOU WANT TO FORM AN alliance with me.” Sophie felt the need to clarify, wondering if her brain could’ve mistranslated a few of Tarina’s words. That certainly would’ve made more sense than anything she’d just heard. “I’m not sure I understand what that means.”
“It means that someday you’re going to change the world,” Tarina told her, “and I’m here to make sure you don’t fall before that happens. But I’m also here because my people will likely need your help before all of this is finished. Possibly even sooner than we’d hoped.”
“Help with what?” Sophie asked.
“Quite truthfully: We don’t know. That’s why we need you as our ally. If we could see the path ahead, we could prepare. But all we can say for sure is that these problems will surely spread beyond your shimmering cities. And when they reach my world, we’ll need someone to stand with us.”
“Okay, but . . . the Black Swan would be a way better—”
“I told you,” Tarina interrupted, “we do not know them.”
“You don’t know me, either,” Sophie reminded her. “I’ve been here for, what? Five minutes? And I spoke to your empress for less than that at the Peace Summit.”
“You two may not have spoken much, but she had plenty of time to observe your character. And while you’re clearly young and inexperienced, she also found you to be someone who will never stop fighting for what you believe in, regardless of the sacrifices involved or the rules you might have to cast aside, which is the making of an excellent ally. She’d of course planned to wait until you were older before approaching you, but this chance to serve at your side presented itself and couldn’t be passed up, not when there have been other shi
fts as well—signs that these villains might be turning their attention toward my people—”
“Like what?”
“I’ll happily discuss them once you prove yourself committed to this alliance—but we’re not to that point yet. First I need you to trust me.”
Grady pulled Sophie closer, making her wonder if he’d ever learned any Trollish words and was catching snippets of their conversation.
“No one can understand us,” Tarina assured her as Sophie studied their rather large audience. “I switched us to an archaic dialect before mentioning anything pertinent. Only someone with your ability could follow.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not wondering what we’re saying,” Sophie noted. She was also pretty sure Mr. Forkle would find this suspicious enough to eavesdrop on her thoughts, which would likely be translated for him—but decided it was better not to mention that.
“I’m sure they are,” Tarina agreed, flashing a smile with just enough edge to make Bo turn his scowling face away. “But imagine how different it would be if they stumbled upon us discussing this privately, especially given the lengths we would have to go to in order to avoid the other guards. The fact that we’re talking so publicly removes any true suspicion and leaves only mild curiosity—and mild curiosity can be misdirected easily enough. I’ll handle that in a moment. First, I want to make sure you understand that I’m not asking you to join any plot or scheme with my empress. I’m simply asking you to be someone beyond your Council that we can turn to for help if a need arises.”
“What makes you think I’ll be able to do anything?” Sophie asked.
“Because you’re far more powerful than you realize, both in your talents and in your ability to inspire. The fact that I’m here in a private section of your world, along with an ogre, a goblin, a dwarf, and a gnome—all of whom have sworn to protect you with their lives—proves your value beyond anything you might argue. So do not doubt yourself. And do not doubt my empress’s intentions. She would never request something unjust. That’s why our other alliance still holds, even to this day.”
“An alliance with who?” Sophie asked.
“I can’t tell you. Just as I would never give your identity to them. Discretion in these relationships is key to their success.”
Sophie fought the urge to sigh—or to reach up and tug on her eyelashes.
“I realize this is a complicated decision, and I’m not asking you to make it right now,” Tarina promised. “I simply wanted to plant the seed from the very beginning of our relationship. That way you can have it in your mind as you come to know me. And now it falls on me to convince you that both of our worlds will benefit from this alliance—which is why I want you to know that regardless of what you decide, you have my loyalty and protection.”
With that, she turned to Sandor and offered a smile. “Sorry. This is taking far longer than I intended. I’ve been trying to explain to Sophie why those in my species differ so drastically in appearance from each other, since no one seemed to have explained that to her before. But I fear doing it in my language was a mistake after all and made the subject far more confusing. I think it might be easier for her to understand if I try again in her instinctive language.”
Tarina delivered the lie so smoothly that Sophie couldn’t decide if she was impressed or unnerved. And when Tarina turned back to her, she continued on without even missing a beat, as though this was what they’d been discussing all along. “As I was trying to say, my people age quite differently than what you’re used to—not only following a pattern that you would likely consider a reverse of your aging method, but also because we pass through seven distinct stages throughout the course of our lives, all of which have different physical and mental attributes. As newborns, we’re at our strongest physically—but mentally at that stage, we’re at our weakest. And as we pass from stage to stage, those conditions slowly flip, with our strength fading and mental capacity enhancing. I happen to be in Stage Four, which is also called our Prime Stage. It’s the stage considered to be the most balanced point in our lives, when our mental and physical strength are nearly even. It’s why I was chosen for this assignment. But each stage has its advantages and disadvantages. Empress Pernille is Stage Six. The other trolls you’ve seen were likely Stage Threes or Stage Fives, which is why none of them resembled each other or looked as I do now.”
“How fascinating,” Bo said, rolling his eyes. “Should we follow this with a lecture on ogre development? Or perhaps the gnome would like to tell us about their life cycles.”
Tarina smirked. “If you ever find yourself facing one of our newborns, you might be grateful for this understanding.”
“I’ve faced your soldiers plenty of times.”
“I didn’t say our soldiers—I said our newborns. We generally try not to subject anyone to that stage’s ferocity. But I might be willing to make an exception for you during the next hatching.”
“Hatching?” Sophie asked. “Like . . . from eggs?”
“In a way. Honestly, I can’t believe your elvin school hasn’t taught you any of these things.”
“It’s an elite subject,” Mr. Forkle explained. “Though you might be right that we should cover the basics earlier than that. Our thought has always been to save that curriculum for those joining the nobility, since they’re the ones who may actually interact with your species. But it does seem like an oversight for so many to know so little about a species with whom we share our planet. It also sounds like our information has some gaps. I’ve never heard of your hatchings either.”
“That may be because we’re very protective of our newborns—and even more so of those unhatched. But I suppose, since we’ll all be spending so much time together, we can consider this to be a learning experience.”
She gave Sophie a knowing glance.
In case you’re wondering, Mr. Forkle transmitted—and Sophie had to lock her jaw to block a squeal—I’ve heard most of your conversation Sorry to violate your privacy, but when she shifted to her archaic tongue, I had to make sure you weren’t being threatened. I won’t say much more now, since our conversation might be noticed. But I’m glad she’s giving you time to consider—it gives me a chance to do some research. I’ve never heard any whispers of the trolls having an elvin ally before. So let me do some digging—and try not to let this worry you. I don’t think the trolls have an ulterior motive. They sound scared, and I can’t blame them, considering the chaos the Neverseen have been causing. I’d like to look into that, as well—make sure there haven’t been any concerning incidents that Empress Pernille hasn’t shared. In the meantime it’s probably best if you don’t mention anything about this to your family or friends. I get the impression that the trolls would want this to be an arrangement strictly between you and them.
That . . . might be a problem, Sophie warned.
Agreed. But we’ll address that once we decide if this is even something you should commit to.
Out loud he added, “I believe we have one more guard for you to meet, don’t we?”
“We do,” Grady said, stomping his foot in a specific pattern against the ground.
Sophie’s brain had just put together that he was calling the dwarf, when the soil parted and a molelike creature with brown shaggy fur and a pointed face poked her head out and focused on Sophie through tightly squinted eyes.
Grady introduced them. “Sophie, meet Nubiti. You probably won’t see her much, given her sensitivity to sunlight. But she’s only a few stomps away if you need her.”
“We’ve developed several codes to communicate various threats,” Sandor added. “I’ll teach you the stomping patterns later.”
Sophie nodded, turning to the dwarf, trying to think of something better to say than “Hi.” But before she could even get that word out, Nubiti flipped back into her hole, kicking her hairy legs and burrowing into the earth, leaving no trace that she’d just been there.
“Bizarre creatures,” Bo murmured, raking his teeth over
his lip piercing.
“She doesn’t have much to say,” Grady explained to Sophie. “But I’ve seen her in action on a few of my assignments with King Enki over the years. She’s amazing. As is your whole team,” he added, tipping his chin toward each of her guards. “We’re still fine-tuning how this is going to work, but we all have the same goal. We want you to know that despite anything the Neverseen have claimed, none of us will let them anywhere near you ever again.”
“Never,” Sandor agreed. “They thought they were delivering a message. But all they’ve done is guarantee their failure.”
“Anyone else think that’s strange?” Tarina jumped in. “Sorry—I don’t mean to ruin the pep talk. But I’ve been trying to understand the Neverseen’s motivation, and I keep coming back to the same question: Why stage such a visible attack only to deliver threats, cause temporary injuries, and ask for one small piece of information? They had to know Sophie’s security would then be significantly improved, making it nearly impossible to get near her ever again. So why take on that challenge?”
Bo sighed. “I hate to say this—but I agree with the troll.”
“They said they wanted me to start cooperating,” Sophie told both of them.
“Okay, but . . . you know who cooperates much better than someone you injure and let go?” Tarina asked. “A prisoner who knows you can keep hurting them.”
“They’ve taken Miss Foster hostage before, and it did not end well for them,” Mr. Forkle reminded everyone. “And they’ve lost a number of hideouts already. I doubt they’d want to lose another.”
“But they could’ve stashed her anywhere,” Tarina argued. “And it sounded like they had several opportunities to grab Sophie and flee. So there has to be a reason they didn’t. They must want her to be free.”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 35