by Martha Carr
The small troll put his nose in the air, sniffing around for a scent. Nothing. He kept moving, wandering by the small businesses that lined the street, tripping over a small pile of cigarette butts. “Son of a bitch!”
He picked himself up and brushed the ashes carefully off his boots. “Hmph! Wha?” The smell of bacon hit his nose. He turned around and around but the wind was changing direction making it difficult to tell where the smell was coming from.
The troll moved closer to the buildings, running through the short front yards of sparse grass, the occasional palm tree or clusters of cacti, stopping briefly in intervals to take a good whiff again. “Bacon!”
At a long, red brick building with a sign outside that read Ladybird Assisted Living the troll smelled the air. The bacon scent was stronger. He trilled, clapping his hands and made his way toward the front entrance. A middle-aged woman in colorful pink scrubs rushed right by the troll without noticing him, headed for the double glass doors.
Almost late for work again. Second time this week. She clutched her blue lunch bag tighter, picking up the pace as the automatic doors opened up in front of her and she rushed inside, headed for the time clock.
“Oooooh.” The troll walked up to the doors, waiting for them to open but nothing happened. He jumped up and down and waved his hat, frustrated.
He went back to sit on a bench in the front, the smell of bacon still in the air when a man walked briskly toward the entrance and the doors opened again.
The troll got there just as the doors closed. “Motherfucker!” he chirped, waving his fist. He leaned his head against the glass and watched an orderly wheel a cart down the hall with trays of food. “Rat bastard!” he yelled through the tiny opening between the doors but no one heard him.
The troll stepped back from the doors and looked up at the cameras, waving his hands and looked back at the doors. Nothing. The orderly came out of one room and went in another further down the hall. The troll stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, marching back toward the bench just as a large dog ran in front of the doors, triggering the sensors, opening the doors.
Yumfuck scrambled back just as the doors closed. He looked at the dog who was trotting away in the distance, looked at the doors and looked back at the dog and smiled.
He stood back and let out a roar, growing to the size of a large dog, waving his arms as the doors opened and he ran in, already shrinking back down to size. The orderly came wheeling out of a room as Yumfuck slid on his belly toward the wheels, grabbing on as the cart turned a corner.
“Morning Mrs. Toler, how are you doing today? Let me set this up for you.” The orderly pulled out a tray with a menu sticking out of the side and put it on the table over Mrs. Toler’s bed.
The troll peeked out from the wheels he was clinging to and swung himself over to the bottom shelf, quietly lifting the cover off a tray and carefully taking off his hat. He put his head underneath, burying his face in scrambled eggs, letting out a tiny muffled ‘yumfuck’.
The orderly looked up, confused at Mrs. Toler who smiled sweetly and said, “Yumfuck”. It was the first word she had said all week.
“That’s an auspicious word, Mrs. Toler. Not sure how your family is going to take it. Wonder if I should even report it.” He scratched his head. “Maybe I should just put down yum.”
“Yumfuck.” Mrs. Toler smiled again.
“Okay, have it your way.” The orderly carefully wrote down ‘spoke today, said yumfuck’ in her chart.
Two guards ran by the door on their way to the entrance looking for the large furry animal that waved at the cameras by the front door.
“Nothing yet, Bob,” one of them said into a walkie talkie. “Damndest thing. Kind of a cross between a small bear and a dog.”
Yumfuck ate his way through the tray till the food was gone. He pulled his head out, putting his hat back on and slid out of the cart while the orderly’s back was turned. The orderly turned around just in time as the troll got to the door.
“Yumfuck!” He waved and lifted his hat before scampering down the hall.”
The orderly’s eyes grew wide. “Have to stop taking these double shifts. They’re gonna find a bed for me in here. Not even forty yet!” The orderly pushed the cart to the next room, muttering the entire way.
Yumfuck made his way down the hall turning into the activities room where several residents were sitting in chairs watching the weather channel.
“Bleh!” The troll spotted the remote in the hands of an elderly man’s hands and trilled softly, smiling at the man as he held out his hands.
The man gave a toothless smile and slid the remote toward the troll, chuckling. “I used to put a cowboy hat on my dog.” The man put out a finger and rubbed the troll’s head as the troll trilled, shutting his eyes for a moment.
Yumfuck picked up the remote and held it over his head, jumping down to get closer to the television. He flipped through the channels till he found a movie channel playing Dirty Dancing and squealed with delight.
He put down the remote and lifted his arms over his head, dancing to the music as the residents started to clap in time with the beat. The troll trilled with delight and bent over toward the residents, twerking as he backed up closer to them. Several of the residents were dancing in their chairs, waving their arms.
“Woot! Woot!” The troll watched the girl run toward the man as he lifted her over his head.
“Oooooh, yeah? Yeah!” He nodded as an elderly woman nodded back. The troll raised his arms high over his head and ran toward the woman as she put down her hand scooping up the troll and lifting him over her head.
He arched his back, holding out his arms and legs, smiling so all his sharp, pointy teeth showed. The woman put him gently back down on the floor as the troll turned and took a bow, waving his hat in front of him. “Yumfuck,” he said, solemnly.
“Yumfuck,” she said, nodding her head graciously.
The troll went and took another bow in front of the group and gave a big wave. “Dancing with the Stars!” he chirped. “Yumfuck!”
“What’s all the commotion in here? Who changed the channel?” A large orderly came barreling into the room straight for the remote. The troll backed up to the wall, hugging it closely until he got to the door and ran out of the room. He stopped at the front desk and hopped up to take three roses out of a vase before he grew back to the size of the large dog, opening the doors. He turned around just as he got outside and waved at the cameras, smiling. “Yumfuck!”
The guard sitting in front of the monitor spit out his coffee and stood up suddenly, not sure who to call.
The orderly in the activities room changed the channel back to the weather as a resident said, “Yumfuck!” pounding his fist on the table. He was soon joined by another, and another, all pounding their fists or tapping their canes. “Yumfuck! Yumfuck!”
“Okay, okay,” said the orderly changing the channel back. The other orderly on the floor came in the room, scratching his head again. “Did we miss something? What’s with all the yumfucking?”
***
Yumfuck finally made his way to Eireka and Mara’s door where he knocked politely standing back as Mara opened the door. “I don’t suppose anyone knows you left.”
The troll held up the flowers, smiling and nodding, his fingers crossed behind his back.
Mara leaned down and took the flowers. “Thank you, and don’t kid a kidder. Just so you know, I’m calling Leira to let her know where you are. Come on in, are you hungry?”
“Yumfuck!” He strolled in and settled onto the couch. “Nobody puts baby in a corner,” he squeaked.
“One of these days you’re going to tell me about your adventures.” Mara shook her head and went into the kitchen to get him some food.
The troll snickered and reached for the remote, searching for another movie to watch.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The teenage Light Elf made his way up the rocky slope of Camelback mountain to the Dark Kemana
. His sneakers slipped on a rock, the burned rubber tip brushing against the clay, streaking it with dirt. His bright red hair matched the red windbreaker he was wearing. Not enough protection against the wind as he climbed higher in the early morning light but he didn’t notice.
“Keep going, not much further.” He repeated the whispers he was hearing. They were drowning out every other thought. The voices overlapped each other, calling to him in his dreams, telling him how important he was. We need you. You belong with us. Follow us. Hurry now.
He got to the top and stood in the center watching the sun rise over Phoenix down below. He pulled out his wand and raised it up like he was conducting an orchestra repeating the family spell passed down through generations. Dark magic not to be used before someone was ready. But the whispers told him. You’re ready. Do it.
He started the spell as the voices increased, gaining strength. He pulled in the dark magic, feeling it course through him from generations that came before him. “Expellorium…” A black mist crept up around his ankles as the whispering got louder, enveloping him in the darkness as he finished the spell. The black magic opening a rip in the veil between his world and the world in between.
“It’s beautiful.” He looked inside the shimmering darkness as it sparked all around him, suddenly sucking him in with a whoosh, lifting him off his feet into the world in between.
***
Leira made her way back through Hilldale, the troll riding on her shoulder. “That was nice of Nana to bring you home.” Leira glanced over at the troll who smiled and let out a soft trill. “You want to tell me about that reporting of a large furry dog smiling at the cameras at a nursing home? The general called to ask me about it. I covered for you.”
“Whew…” The troll wiped his forehead dramatically.
“You need to be a little more careful. Nana wouldn’t say how you managed to find your way over to their apartment. I know you two are keeping secrets.”
The troll turned his face away from Leira and made a point of watching the small cottages as they walked quickly past them.
“Have it your way but secrets come out eventually. Might want to plan on a controlled crash.”
The troll shrugged and let out a cackle, holding on to Leira’s collar.
It wasn’t long before they were back at the Jersey Willen’s front porch. There was a note stuck on a nail by the door marked, ‘Leira’.
“Willens can read. Why does that seem so weird?” Leira pulled down the note and read it.
‘I still owe you the favor but per our agreement, I keep the gold.’
Leira started pounding on the door. “Not good enough, Willen!” she shouted. “Not leaving till I get more of an explanation. Don’t mind if I wake the neighbors with an oversized troll, either.”
The troll looked at her, ready to go.
“Not yet.” Leira pounded on the door again. “I can hear you in there. Thought you guys knew how to move around a little more quietly than that.” She pounded again but the door finally creaked open just a crack. The Jersey Willen stood at the door, his son peeking out from behind him.
Leira pushed the door open further, stepping into the opening. This is too important to get the brush off from a magical rodent.
The younger Willen stepped back, gasping at the sight of the troll. The troll smirked, annoyed and sat down on Leira’s shoulder.
“Tell me what you found out. Sooner you do, sooner I leave. No one will know where I got the information. Now.” Her eyes glowed from the anger and annoyance.
“Okay, okay.” The Willen held up his paws. “But if you tell anyone it was me, my life will be over. Nowhere to hide! Worse than the Gnomes!”
“I told you to be careful…”
“You didn’t tell me you were hunting dark magic like that!”
“What did you see? I’m growing tired of asking.”
“You were right, the humans got more seeds from Oriceran. A lot more. Whatever you did only slowed them down temporarily.”
“Did you see who was in charge?”
The Willen shuddered and gasped, looking up at the ceiling as he groaned. “Terrible, terrible. Alright, already. It was a prophet. Can you believe it? A prophet! Saw him clear as day!”
“Which one?” Leira needed confirmation the Gnome was responsible.
“The Gnome prophet, yes, the Gnome.”
“Did he see you?”
“No, or you wouldn’t be seeing me now.”
“What did he get in return?”
“All sorts of technology. Boxes and boxes of it.” The Willen waved his arms, the jacket shifting over his belly. “Things from Earth flying over to Oriceran, things from Oriceran flying over to Earth. Never seen anything like it, I tell you! But there’s something more.” He shook his finger at Leira. “Dark magic, the really strong stuff. Nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Not to be meddled with. Terrible, terrible. A prophet!”
“Thank you, your favor to me is over. You did your part.”
“Reluctantly. Please…” The Willen was already shutting the door. “Tell no one. Forget about Hilldale. Forget about the Jersey Willen. Dark magic like that sees through things, goes everywhere.” The door shut with a loud click.
“That was a bum’s rush, Yumfuck. He was really scared. I don’t blame him.” Leira went slowly down the front stairs and walked back in the direction of Hilldale’s square. “Rhazdon may be posing as a prophet. Now we need to prove it. We better get home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The prophets nervously awaited the old Gnome’s arrival into their chamber at the back of the meeting room. The vote had already taken place and the Gnome was out. There was a growing suspicion about him and his dealings with the Dark Market.
Rumors had finally made their way back to the prophets about the Gnome controlling most of the dealings in the bazaar. An emergency meeting was held without him to discuss their options, particularly given the looming prophesy.
The vote was unanimous. He was fired and all that was left was to take his robe from him and show him the door. Only hitch was that no prophet had ever been fired before in the long history of their group.
“It needed to be done. Overdue,” said the Wood Elf prophet. “Maybe we can ask another Gnome.”
“Who knows what he’s gotten himself involved in, and by extension us. If it all comes out no one will follow us and everyone will be doomed.” The Arpak fluttered his wings. “He’s a thug.”
The Pixie fluttered nervously over her seat and the Kilomea prophet grunted, standing up, the stars shifting on the back of his robe to stay in alignment with the night sky illuminated on the ceiling. The four levels of the gallery went up behind them ringing the room, but they were all gathered down in the well in the front just behind the lit stand in the center that held the worn leather-bound ledger. In the ledger were all the ancient quatrains under a glass dome protected by a spell.
The Gnome stepped inside the room, his eyes widening when he saw all the other prophets crowded together in one long row. A sneer came across his face. “What have we here? There’s a sense of gloom in the air.”
He stepped in closer, letting the door close behind him. “I just received your message and hurried right over. Why do I get the sense you’ve all been here just a bit longer?” He walked slowly around the lit stand. The Light Elf nervously tapped his fingers on his leg, ready for anything.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” The Gnome stopped beside the ledger, his arms crossed in front of him. So the day is here, at last. He waited for someone to find their courage. I’ve waited centuries for this moment. Let it take as long as it needs to.
The Light Elf stood, clearing his throat. “The group has asked me to speak for them. It has come to our attention that you are the mastermind behind the Dark Market. You are the one who has been breaking the treaty and opening portals for years now, trafficking in Earth’s technology and trading favors. These are just the things we know about.
”
The Gnome scowled. “Your plot to bring over a human who kills the royal Light Elves’ prince and sets a powerful artifact loose in the world. You scheme to harm a human celebrity to put yourselves in a good light and create chaos for the Silver Griffins, and you take responsibility for none of it,” he hissed.
“We had good intentions!” The Nicht prophet leaned forward in his seat.
“You’ve failed at every one of them.”
“All of those ideas started with you,” insisted the Light Elf prophet. “You came up with them!”
“I never heard any protests and I wasn’t in charge of the execution of them.”
“Convenient memory,” said the Pixie. “Tell him the rest.”
The Light Elf stood up straighter. “You’re relieved of your duty. As of today, you are no longer a prophet of any standing. Turn over your robe and you can go.”
“I can go any time I want to. Was this unanimous?”
“On the first vote.”
A smile spread across the Gnome’s face. “Very well.” He removed the robe but didn’t stop there, carefully removing every article of clothing despite the loud and varied protests from the other prophets.
The Gnome ignored their confusion and pleas and spoke the magic words that till then he only dared say in the sanctuary of his small cabin. The transformation began almost immediately.
The sounds of bones stretching and growing filled the chamber, horrifying the other prophets.
“What’s going on?”
“Is he dying?”
His body twisted and pulled as he grimaced. The top of his head sprouted tentacles that slowly grew until they covered his head and the skin on his body became smooth. It only took a few minutes but when it was done no prophet could look away.
It was the moment they would all use to mark time. Before they learned the truth… and after.
Before them stood a naked Atlantean woman. There was stunned silence in the room. Rhazdon turned around in a slow circle, finally comfortable in her own skin, appreciating the gaze of onlookers. Finally, she picked up the robe and held it in front of her. “I’m going to borrow this robe for a little longer.”