Troll Tunnels

by Erin M. Hartshorn

  Laughing, I protested. “I’m not a drama queen. That’s my daughter.”

  “She comes by it naturally.” Maggie poured tea into both cups and took the unchipped one for herself. A subtle reminder that I was the reason the other one was chipped. “Most of your drama comes from outside, however.”

  “True enough. But most of today’s drama is just the continuing story of life as Pepper. Nothing new and exciting.” It wasn’t really a lie. Neither the shrine of Tiamat nor Carole’s warning about her death were current drama, more worries about the future. Ditto Matt being Matt.

  “Good! That gives you ample opportunity to focus on your studies.”

  My studies. Right. “Healing magic is hard — harder than I thought it would be, after Carole was going on about it being the flip side of the magic I already do.”

  “When’s the last time you practiced?”

  Her unsympathetic question sounded so much like me asking Gavin about his music that I winced, even though I’d meditated before bed last night and had every intention of doing so tonight. My words came out more defensive than necessary. “It’s not like I’m going to run around hurting people to have an excuse to heal them!”

  “If that were necessary, I would be surprised.” Flat eyes looked at me over the rim of her cup, and I felt the urge to hide. Not that there was anywhere to hide in her home. “My aunt wouldn’t have suggested this frivolously. If she thinks it is necessary, you should be at least as focused on it as you are on your job.”

  “Have you seen what I’m like at the end of an eight-hour day using magic?”

  “No. And neither, I suspect, have you. You’ve never gone in for sustained work.”

  She wasn’t wrong. On the other hand, if I tried to work magic for a long period of time, I’d have so little energy, I probably wouldn’t even be able to stand, let alone deal with the rest of my life.

  “Pepper?” she prodded me. “You do believe Aunt Carole when she says this is serious, don’t you? If she took the trouble to warn you—”

  Trouble? It hadn’t seemed to be any trouble at all! On the other hand, Maggie’s harping on it made me wonder if it bothered her.

  “I’m not ignoring her. I’m meeting with Chris. I’m doing the exercises. I’m trying in my copious amounts of free time. But it’s not the flip side of my magic. As far as I can tell, it’s not related to my magic at all, and the only reason any of it makes any sense is because I’m relating it to what Lashonda taught me about binding magic.” I drew in a deep breath. “Frankly, you nagging me about it doesn’t help any.”

  “Are you done?” Her tone was ice.

  “Maybe.” I set the teacup down — I wasn’t even sure when I’d picked it up. This time, it didn’t chip. “Sometimes I think Dorothy’s right and you resent Carole spending time on me at all.”

  She snorted her tea and erupted into a coughing fit. “Excuse me? Did you just say that Dorothy’s right about something?”

  Dorothy and I were … we were on speaking terms, I suppose, but that was as congenial as we got. A traditional witch sworn to Hekate, Dorothy was convinced I and my revenge magic were the worst possible things that could exist.

  I looked at her sourly. “You’re not denying it.”

  She choked a bit more, and her hand shook as she put her own teacup down. “I knew Aunt Carole was going to mentor you when I introduced you. Knew it and did it anyway, even though it meant giving up some of the time I spent with her, because it was the right thing to do. Do I sometimes wish I hadn’t done that? Maybe. Even with all I know now, though, I’d do it again.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. Maggie was probably my second-closest friend in the world, and I hadn’t wanted to think we might have a poisoned relationship.

  “You worry too much, Pepper. Now drink your tea before the others get here. And try to remember to practice your exercises this next week. I’ll check, you know.”

  I was certain she would. Carole wasn’t my only mentor.

  I had time to drink my tea, eat the cookies, and wash and put away the teacups before the first of the other witches arrived. Not by much — I was reaching up into the cupboard with the second cup when Maggie opened the front door and I heard Lashonda and Carlos’s familiar tones.

  “Hey, guys,” I called.

  “You actually made it this week!” Lashonda came in and gave me a hug without taking off her coat first. “I’ve been too busy to stop by the Wicked Whatever and check up on you. You still seeing that handsome fellow?”

  “Haris and I are still dating,” I replied. Which wasn’t precisely a yes because Haris wasn’t precisely a fellow. Haris genderflipped, sometimes male and sometimes female, and I worked hard not to misgender Haris, even though I might not correct people’s impressions. I’d tried with some people, like my best friend, and the idea didn’t stick. Even for Boston, Haris was a bit of an anomaly.

  “Still a shame about his cousin.” She shook her head. “And him so fine.”

  “I’m sure you have options.” I was — Lashonda was a damned attractive black woman, and I’d always thought her lack of a permanent partner was mostly because she hadn’t found anyone good enough.

  “If you say so.” But her smile said maybe I wasn’t that far off.

  “Hey, Pepper.” Carlos came in, all in black as usual, and dapped Lashonda. “Shonda, let me get your coat. I gotta hang mine anyway.”

  I glanced after him. “You and him?”

  Her contralto laugh was soft and rich. “No, he’s got no use for romance. He just needed a best friend, and we’ve been good for each other.” She flicked her eyes to where he stood talking to Maggie. “You be a good friend to him, too.”

  “I try.” It was only because I did try — to be a good friend, to help, to not be the kind of person who would go mad with power — that I didn’t snap at her. So damned many people telling me what I should be doing with my life, my time, my energy. They were just fortunate I inclined that way to begin with.

  “Showing up here helps. It shows you care. But maybe you should make time to hang out with people, too.”

  My shoulders tightened. I got what she was saying — some weeks, I got so busy, I had to remind myself to call Beth and set up a lunch date or go out to the movies. Before I had kids, I hadn’t really believed people who said it was different afterward, that staying friends with people without children took more work. Just get a babysitter and go, right? But it was more complicated than that. Staying home in the evenings or on weekends and reading to the kids or watching movies with them — or going to a game or a museum or whatever — that was fun and part of my life, too, and other things had to shift around that.

  Before I could say any of that, though, Lashonda laid her hand on my arm, and the cool prickling I associated with her magic trickled over me. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you got your work and your kids, and I’d rather not see you in my office when this custody thing is over, but you need more than that, too.”

  Since she was a social worker, I’d rather not have to show up in her office. But it had been part and parcel of the system trying to find out what was best for the kids. Lashonda hadn’t actually been the one dealing with our case — she said it would be a conflict of interest since she knew me — but I got the impression that her approving of me helped a lot in the evaluations we’d done. I hoped so, anyway.

  “I know.” I forced myself to smile, even though I still felt tense. “I promise, I’ll get Carlos’s digits tonight and make sure I’m checking in with him, too. Maybe I’ll have you guys over for dinner soon. You like Chinese, right?”

  An oily feeling brushed past me, and I knew at least two witches allied with Tiamat were on their way — I couldn’t be certain of how many because of all the overlapping magic already concentrated here, but it was too strong to be only one. I did my best to ignore the sensation and focus on Lashonda’s response.

  “No, meet him for coffee or a beer or something. Your kids might
be a bit much for him. I swear your girl’s got the Sight. She keeps staring at my beads.”

  Probably trying to figure out how the magic worked, if I knew my precocious child. I wouldn’t mention it to Hsien — he thought kids should occasionally get away with pushing their limits — but I would keep an eye out to see if she was trying to put bindings on things around the apartment.

  The doorbell rang, and we both glanced to the front door. I wasn’t surprised to see a couple of the witches who had dropped by the coffeeshop, one of them the one who’d just been in the day before. Maggie greeted them by name. “Svetlana and Anneke! Come in, come in.”

  They glanced around as they took off their coats — lighter than what I had worn — and I nodded as their eyes met mine.

  “You’ve met?” Lashonda asked in some surprise.

  “They dropped by the Wicked Whatever a while back, and Anneke was in again yesterday. Seems most everybody comes in now.”

  “It’s what happens when you create a sanctuary. Sometime, you’re going to have to teach me how you did that.”

  I shrugged uneasily. “It’s just a ward.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.

  Before I could say anything, uneasiness swept over me, magic that raised goosebumps across my arms. I shivered. I knew whose magic this was.

  Sure enough, moments later, the door opened — no knock or doorbell — and Dorothy barged in, her sour expression radiating into the room. She immediately latched onto Anneke, the older of the two Tiamat witches, saying something rather longer than a standard greeting. Anneke looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Svetlana glanced in my direction. Dorothy followed her gaze. When her eyes met mine, surprise and anger warred on her face, and she turned abruptly and left, slamming the door behind her.

  Everyone stared at the door in surprise for a moment then began talking animatedly.

  “Still not part of your fan club, I see,” Lashonda said.

  I passed it off. “Maybe she’s afraid I’ll press assault charges.”

  If I’d had a reliable witness other than Haris, I might have pressed charges for her physical attacks on me during the end of the dark muse mess. Maybe, though probably not — it came too close to putting magic out in front of the public. It shouldn’t come up in a trial, but I couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t come up. Even if she didn’t want it public, either. You never knew what lawyers might ask.

  Her retreat, though, was unlike Dorothy. She was always willing — eager, even — to confront me, to accuse me of being evil and someone who should be done away with, a danger to everyone around me. The abrupt departure coupled with her intense words to Anneke, though, worried me. She was clearly planning something, and I wasn’t going to like it.

  “You could just ask her for an apology.”

  I laughed, and Lashonda joined in. The moment of tension passed.

  The rest of the evening was pleasant enough, getting Carlos’s phone number, exchanging small talk with Svetlana and Anneke about the weather in Boston compared to St. Petersburg, where they had immigrated from by way of England, and promising Maggie I’d ask Chris to come to the next meeting — a way of reassuring her that yes, I was taking my studies seriously. Others were still chatting when I left, but I needed to get home to get the twins to bed. As I’d told them, no sleepovers on school nights.

  Chapter 6

  Oily prickles crawled up my arms as I wiped the frother’s nozzle clean. Although similar to the feeling I’d gotten the previous night from Svetlana and Anneke, only one person made me feel quite like this — my best friend, Beth. I flexed my arms a bit to throw off the response, then turned to take the next order. Pity I didn’t have time to get Beth’s drink ready before she got here, but I could at least cut the line down a bit so we would have time to chat.

  By the time she came through the door, there were only two people left in line. Beth looked as well-put together as usual, bobbed blond hair with purple and black stripes on the left side, her dress cut to accent her curves but be comfortable for walking and sitting. Her magic washed over me, stronger than I expected, as if she were actively using the magic rather than simply being tied to a patron she didn’t know. I was uneasy, but I flashed her a grin before returning my attention to the man in front of me. Unfortunately, he decided that I couldn’t possibly have remembered one word about his order because I’d looked away momentarily, so he started again from the beginning.

  I interrupted him once. “We’re out of soy milk. Would you like almond or rice milk instead?”

  Was that ever a mistake! First he lectured me about not telling him before he placed his order, as though I should’ve known he would want soy although I’d never seen him before, then he started over from the beginning again, with a slightly different mix, capping it off with, “Half skim and half half-and-half.”

  I thought about suggesting two percent instead, but there was no way I was going to listen to his order a fourth time. Instead, I said, “Five seventy-five, please. If you step to the side, your drink will be right up.”

  Three more people came in before I managed to get his order completed to his satisfaction. Beth waited off to one side until I was free. I started her order as she walked up to the counter.

  “One of those days, huh?”

  “Could be worse. Only one impossible customer per hour so far.”

  Chuckling, she grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and started doodling on it while I frothed the milk. I set the drink in front of her, and she paused to get her money out. I glanced at her doodle. She’d drawn geometric patterns, squares in squares, repeating outward, almost a spiral, but not quite orderly.

  My uneasiness increased; I had read speculation on a tie between geometry and magical resonance. Her geometric doodles, combined with Beth’s stronger magical presence — it could be a coincidence, but it could mean that Tiamat, her unintended patron, was subtly influencing her, drawing Beth closer to her.

  I didn’t know enough about how the whole patron-witch bond worked. Maggie refused to believe that wasn’t how I’d come by my power, and for the most part Carole didn’t think I needed more than the basics. No, that wasn’t fair — she was always happy to teach, but I’d never probed because I knew the basics: a person contacted a patron, asking for a particular type of magic and pledging loyalty to that patron.

  But that wasn’t how it had worked with Beth. She’d traced a symbol that Clay had drawn — a spell to bind her, a symbol of Tiamat — but she’d made no offer, asked no power. The conduit had been opened, I know, because I’d always felt Tiamat’s touch hovering over her. Evidently, the connection had gone deeper than that. I needed to know more, but this was not the time.

  I handed her her change, then said, “Hey, want to come over for dinner this weekend?”

  “Can’t. I’ve got a date.” Her smile was even broader than it usually was when talking about her love life.

  “Already planned?” I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a little surprising.”

  “I don’t always have to be spontaneous.” Her cheeks darkened. “Anyway, it’s our fourth date. We’re even starting to have regular routines.”

  Fourth? And I hadn’t even heard about this person before! She hadn’t been dating anyone last month when I was running around trying to figure out who was singing people to their deaths. She’d gotten serious fast. “Tell me more.”

  “I’m not ready to talk about him yet.” Her smile was quickly hidden behind her cup. “Perfect, as always. Maybe you did make the right choice coming out of college. You could even pick up an MBA in the evenings or something.”

  I couldn’t really fault her for not keeping me up to date on her dating life. How long had it taken for me to tell her I was dating Haris? And I still hadn’t managed to convince her that I was only dating one person, despite dating both a male and a female. Rather than go into that again, with an audience of customers, I responded to her MBA comment.

  “I’ll get r
ight on that in my spare time.”

  “You could probably even do most of it online.”

  I could. But then what? I didn’t need a master’s degree to run the coffee shop. I’d have to move on, look for bigger and better positions, let my ambition win. “I’ll think about it.”

  And I would. I just wouldn’t change my opinion.

  I wasn’t afraid of my ambition any more — at least, I didn’t think “afraid” was the word. I was chary, wary even, but that just meant I had to examine my choices to see if my ambition was driving them. And the only reason to get an MBA would be to serve my ambition, not me.

  Chapter 7

  Warmth surged through my insides, a flash of heat from behind my ears straight down my spine, radiating through every inch of me. I smiled in anticipation —the brightest spot of my Tuesday was coming down the street, headed for the coffee shop and our weekly walking date.

  Ximena cocked her head. “You were looking pretty sour after Beth left. Glad to see you perking up.”

  “It’s almost the end of my shift.”

  She grinned knowingly. “Why don’t you go ahead and count out?”

  “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

  The door opened, and Haris walked in, looking as luscious as ever. Today he was wearing an Aran knit sweater that contrasted nicely with his complexion, and his wind-tousled hair looked much as it would if I ran my fingers through it, not that I’d done so very often. His slow smile told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  His words confirmed it. “You’re welcome to compare.”

  I didn’t have to see his dimple to know he was teasing, but the tips of my fingers sparked just the same. I flexed my hands a couple times to be certain I was back in control before I replied, “Not while I’m working.”

  Not immediately after, either, although I did count the drawer quickly and drop a banker’s bag into the office safe in near record time so I could head out into the gathering November dusk with him.