Troll Tunnels

by Erin M. Hartshorn

  The door was slightly wider than standard, with a single wooden panel next to the handle, and only the one lock. When I opened the door, I could see that the panel was also capable of opening, providing a little more space. It seemed an odd combination with the narrow stairs — perhaps the door had been added later?

  The apartment appeared to be primarily a large room with scuffed wood floors, windows on two sides, and the kitchen set against the far wall. A wall to my left had three doors in it, all closed. Investigation showed that the one on the left led to a bathroom, the one in the middle to a small bedroom — smaller than the one the twins shared now — and the one on the right hid the entry to a staircase going up to the third floor.

  That staircase had to cut through some of the kitchen cupboards, and investigation showed that, in fact, half of the kitchen’s upper cupboards were unusable. There wasn’t a lot of cupboard space to begin with, which meant either I would have to get rid of kitchen supplies or bring in an island for extra storage space. Maybe two, so I could use one for a basic pantry.

  The stairs to the third floor were flanked by windows — they would be lit well enough in anything barring a blackout, but I couldn’t imagine getting a desk or mattress up these stairs. Maybe an air mattress.

  When I got to the top, I stopped and stared. The floor here was in better condition than the one below, a dome skylight in the middle spilled sunlight all over, and the walls alternated windows, shelves, and built-in cupboards. An air mattress would be worth it to live in this space.

  No, with the kitchen cupboards and the narrow stairs, there was sure to be some drawback to this space. The obvious one was that the only bathroom was the one downstairs. I wasn’t going to enjoy having to go down and up those stairs if I woke in the middle of the night. But no other drawbacks appeared.

  Windows in both front and back were, in fact, French doors that opened onto a small balcony, rimmed with the same cast-iron railing as the windows below. Above the alley balcony, a wooden beam with a pulley fixed on the end jutted over the space below. That solved the issue of how to get furniture up here.

  The shelves and cupboards were all clean, polished, and smooth, ready for books, clothes, or electronic devices — devices that could be plugged in to a few different outlets on each wall. A quick pulse of my power showed that the wiring was all intact and functioning normally. I loved it.

  I didn’t know how much the rent was, what the availability was, whether the twins would like it … but I loved the apartment. As impractical as it was.

  As delightful as my bedroom — what I hoped would be my bedroom — was, the main living area needed a deeper look. There wasn’t a lot of built-in storage. I already knew the kitchen didn’t have all the cupboards available, but there was no coat closet or other storage in the rest of the main room, either.

  The kitchen area was clean and showed no sign of pests or leaks in the sink. All of the appliances were standard sized and fairly new, with brushed chrome finish that seemed at odds with the wood on display everywhere else. Probably still under warranty. Green sparkles called my attention to the view out the windows of the adjoining street.

  I hadn’t seen my green sparkly friend in a couple of weeks — had never really seen anything but these sparkles, enough to catch my attention and draw me to look at something I might not notice otherwise. It wasn’t a manifestation of my magic, but it felt benign and so far had always steered me right, so when the sparkles showed up, I looked.

  Peering out the window in both directions, I saw bare branches, a couple of birds’ nests, and off to the left a couple of blocks, the familiar front of The Homeric Galley. Was that Grant, one of my regulars going in? Probably — I knew he was fascinated with Raidne, one of the sirens, so it did not surprise me in the least. Hoping that he wasn’t setting himself up to get hurt, I turned back to examine the rest of the apartment.

  Lights flickered on in the bathroom when I stepped inside. It was large enough to have a separate shower stall and an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, with a single upright cupboard in the corner for towels and supplies. A rust ring marred the white sink, and I made a note to ask about the age of the pipes. Frosted glass panes lined the outside wall, but if it weren’t for the automatic lights, the room would be dim day and night. After poking in the cupboard and making sure the shelves weren’t rotting or covered with styling products, I backed out of the room.

  The bedroom didn’t have automatic lights, but the switch activated an overhead fixture — not as necessary here as in the bathroom, because the windows facing the alley let in sufficient light. If there was this much light in November, in the summer, the room must flood with light. That was almost all it had going for it — the single closet was barely enough for one person, and only the fact that Gavin had next to nothing that needed to be hung up made it at all reasonable. Their current set-up wouldn’t work, either — the only way to fit two twin beds into this room was to use bunk beds, and they wouldn’t have room for desks or chairs. The main room would have to be the general living space.

  Briefly, I considered using the small room myself and letting the twins have the large room upstairs. It wasn’t as though I used my bedroom for anything but sleeping, so I didn’t need the extra space. I had almost decided, quite reluctantly, to make the trade when I remembered the pulley system. There was no way my little monkeys would pass up the chance to use that to get in and out of the apartment, preferably without me noticing. No, I didn’t want them anywhere near that set up.

  Lots of drawbacks everywhere, but each time I noticed one, my first thought was what I would have to do for accommodating us. In my head, this was a foregone conclusion, as annoying as that was — I’d fought my mom and aunts, everyone who offered to find somewhere else for me, for us, to live, wanting to hold on to the life I had as long as possible. Now, I was giving in without even a token protest to another suggestion. Giving in, and giving up. I wanted to feel angry at myself, but looking around this apartment, all I could feel was possibility.

  I headed down the stairs to talk to Anil.

  He was on the phone when I got downstairs, so I waited, looking over the supplies for violins — not that Gavin needed more rosin yet, and I certainly wasn’t in the market to buy him instruments — and glancing at the various flyers that had been tacked up near the register.

  When Anil hung up, I handed the key back to him.

  “Not what you’re looking for?” He shrugged. “The apartment is never easy to rent out, so I hoped maybe Mr. Hsien had found a good lead for me. Most people take one look at the stairs and walk out.”

  “On the contrary, I love it. I assume other people will be by to look at it, though, and unless we have a signed contract, I shouldn’t walk off with the key.”

  “Seriously?” He pulled open a couple drawers, and I heard things shifting as he rummaged about. “I know it is in here somewhere — here!” He pulled out a printed form. “Can you fill out the application for my records? I usually do a credit check, also, but—”

  “I’ll pay for the credit check. I’ll also tell you up front that I’m in the middle of a custody battle for my kids, so that might wind up affecting my finances, one way or the other.”

  “Is that why you are looking?” He waved his hands as though to erase his words. “No, I am not allowed to ask, I know. Keep the key.”

  I laughed sympathetically. Renting must be as difficult as hiring with the rules on what was and was not allowable.

  Whistling, I headed back to the Symphony T stop. I was certain that I’d work things out somehow. It only occurred to me now, back out on the street, that I hadn’t noticed the sirens’ magic while I’d been exploring the apartment. Whatever insulation kept the sound from disturbing the neighbors also kept the neighbors from disturbing me. At some level, that made sense. The sirens’ magic was based in sound. Even if I felt it more than heard it most of the time, anything that was effective against sound would be effective against their magic.


  I was halfway down the stairs to the T, thinking about the best way to organize my furniture in the apartment — the great room would have to share both the dining room and the couch. I couldn’t see any good way to add more seating, although maybe a couple of chairs and a coffee table across from the couch would work. If I got rid of the TV — my thoughts cut off abruptly as a low pulse of gravelly magic coincided with Sverth stepping out of the wall onto the stairs. I stopped in place, then stepped toward the wall to get out of the way as the woman behind me bumped into me and swore.

  “Sorry,” I said automatically, trying to decide what to say to Sverth, if anything.

  He took the question out of my hands. “Come.” He glanced at my clothes. “That looks warm enough.”

  “Now?” He had to be kidding me. He wanted me to head off to Canada now, with no warning? I was getting really tired of the trolls and their casual assumption that I was at their beck and call.

  Instead of replying, however, he just nodded at the gap in the wall behind him. What would he do if I kept walking? If I went forward and got on the T and didn’t acknowledge him?

  No, that wasn’t going to work.

  I waited for the people behind me to walk past before I stepped into Sverth’s tunnel. They might not have noticed, just as they didn’t seem to see the troll standing in front of them or the gaping hole where the wall should be, but Carole had conditioned me well — don’t attract attention to anything having to do with magic.

  After he closed the wall behind us, he said, “Here, sip this.”

  I felt — not a flask, but a cloth bag, like a bota bag, or maybe some similar form of animal hide — cow leather, goatskin, or something like that — pushed into my hand. My fingers closed around it, and I felt the top to check whether it was open.

  “What’s in it?”

  “We are traveling a long distance. You will need fuel for the journey.”

  Strange guy, strange drink, strange place — yeesh, this was like a stereotype of worst idea ever. On the other hand, I was no worse off than I would be in going anywhere with a troll, since I was always at their mercy when in the tunnels. I lifted the bag and drank.

  Honey hit my tongue, but not heavy and cloying — more like drinking honeysuckle, so light it might almost be air. It slid down my throat like a swirl of golden energy, leaving a slight taste in my mouth as of licking rocks, or maybe putting a coin or pin in my mouth. The energy spiraled outward, filling my torso first and then my limbs. At the same time, I could feel my magical levels rising, fuller than my usual resting state. Whatever was in Sverth’s drink, it was more potent than Carole’s tea.

  Lights swam before my eyes, and I thought that “potent” might indeed be the key word there if it was going to make me hallucinate, too. Not something I wanted on a regular basis.

  I held the bag out, trusting Sverth to take it from me. “Thanks.”

  A blue shimmer advanced, and the bag was plucked from my hand. I stood stock still — could I really make out where Sverth was, even vaguely?

  “Are you all right?” he rumbled. “It has been a long time since I have shared trollmiod — our drink — with a human, but those warriors seemed ready to charge forward, even if they could not see where they were going.”

  Couldn’t see — best not to say that I thought I could now. If he didn’t expect me to be able to see, I wouldn’t tell him I might. I trusted the trolls, but sometimes, it was useful to know things others did not. And best to not say anything until I knew more about the effects — would they fade? Would they become stronger with repeated use? Or was I truly hallucinating, making myself believe I could see something so I would feel more at ease?

  “Just a little lightheaded. Let’s get going.”

  The unnatural speed was expected this time, if still disconcerting. And Sverth was right — it went on and on and on, far longer than our travels before, far longer than I’d thought. The golden flecks of light sparked around us as we traveled, occasionally swimming together to form a circle as we passed. Tunnels or openings to other places? Did Tiamat’s shrine lie in one of these directions? Not knowing how to open them, I couldn’t find out. Not yet. I kept going, walking to some unknown spot in Canada.

  Unlike previous travels with trolls, I did not take a step and find I’d come through another opening into the outside world. Instead, the darkness opened up around me. I could no longer sense walls nearby as air and sound bounced off of them. Nor were there golden sparkles — or any other color — to be seen. I pulled up short.

  “You can feel this one without me guiding you. Impressive.” Sverth’s voice reverberated from a few feet behind me. He obviously still stood within the tunnel, the walls close enough to form an echo.

  As for what was before me, chasm didn’t even begin to describe it. A maw had opened in the earth, ready to swallow me and my magic whole. I couldn’t sense the ends or the other side — there were no anchors, nothing to pull together, simply a gaping pit yawning in front of us.

  I tried to sit but fell to the ground instead, scraping my palm and likely my knee as well.

  “Are you all right?” he asked for the second time.

  This time, I said, “I don’t know. Oh, a scraped hand, maybe a bruise — nothing I can’t recover from — but this… How do you expect me to face something of this size? This is so far beyond what we did before.”

  “I know, and I am sorry. But this is the hole in the bedrock I told you of. It must be repaired, or the fracture will spread.” His footsteps came closer. “I will give you what aid I can, as I did before.”

  My first step was to pulse with my energy, to see whether I could figure out how large this space was, where the ends were. But the energy went out and out and vanished. No, wait, in that one direction, almost like hearing a drip in a cave, faint, maybe my imagination, but the barest touch of something out there. Okay, I had a direction.

  Taking a deep breath, I sat up straight and crossed my legs — criss-cross, applesauce, as my kids would say. Gathering my magic, I sent it out to the faint note I’d caught, more of a radar gun than a general pulse, directed and focused, aimed to find what was out there. The echo took its time coming back, but the magic had a familiar flavor to it, ginger and winds and silk tops with business suits. Vanessa! Her magic had left a trace here, likely when she had used it to corral Kane and Aniyah, since she didn’t generally tap her magic core for any other reason. Indeed, her confession to me that she had done so was the first I knew she could.

  So we were in, or under, Calgary, and it had been a magical attack that had caught Vanessa. Not surprising, given the unprecedented nature of the flood. But now I knew, if not what I was doing, where my challenge lay.

  This time, I sent my magic out as a harpoon, lancing forward to anchor where Vanessa had been, but remaining tied to me. Once it was secure, I pulsed energy down the path once more, broadening the connection, forging a road for my power. I still was floundering in the dark, but I had something to work with.

  Only one direction, however. I could not zip this chasm closed as I had the one under Logan. I could, perhaps, squeeze it in the middle.

  “You start without me this time? Yet you told me you could not deal with a chasm.”

  “I’m still not certain I can.” I spoke over my shoulder at him. “Right now, I’m still trying to figure out what I’m dealing with.”

  “Allow me.” A ghostly patch of blue moved next to me, and I could hear him sit. I imagined him placing his hands on the ground, as he had last time, to trace the outlines of the chasm. One of his hands — warm and solid, gripped my left wrist and tugged. I let him place my hand atop his, creating a sandwich of power.

  Shifting, I turned enough to add my right hand to the pile, then reached with my magic to hook into his power so I could follow the guiding force. This time, it did not dive deeply, as it had last time, but that was probably because we sat here next to the chasm, not above it in an airplane terminal or some random buildi
ng on a street in Calgary. Rather, it stretched out, flowing, touching edges, limning them with power that I could not see but could feel, mass and strength and density, diamonds and minerals and all the power that is of the earth, stretching thin, thinner than a filament wire as it attempted to chase the edges.

  When Sverth stopped, there were patches where only the idea of power provided continuity, where even an atom’s thickness was broader than what we had to give. We both shook with effort, and I worried at the sound of him shaking, the arms and body and legs cracking together like a landslide in slow motion. He was flesh, of this I was certain, but he was earth as well, and both had been taxed here.

  “Do you need a moment? Or some of your drink?”

  “I brought the trollmiod for you. It would give me strength, but it is for you. I cannot put you at risk by wasting even a drop.”

  “You’ll put us both at risk if we can’t finish this job. It’s a full sack — I’m sure I can spare a sip or two.”

  His rumble was disapproving, but resigned. “I will have some only if you will as well. I have told you I cannot do what you do.”

  I wasn’t about to turn down an infusion of energy. Even if it came with hallucinations. “Very well.”

  “You first.” He thrust the bag into my hand.

  I weighed it thoughtfully, judging how much the trolls had thought I would need for this task. If anything, I was more worried now. I wet my lips, letting the aroma and wisps of strength stir my senses before I took a drink. I wanted to drain the bag, hold nothing back, see what would happen if I threw caution to the winds. But I wanted Sverth to have some as well, so I merely sipped, letting the power swirl through me, not overfilling me as it had before, but coming near to replenishing my strength to normal.