by James Somers
Oliver cast a portal to envelope us. One moment we were walking among the sycamores in Highgate, the next we traversed a dark forest thick with ancient trees that were gnarled and angry in appearance. A mist hung in suspension at knee-height, obscuring much of the ground cover. A canopy of gray and brown leaves might have hidden the sun had there been any shining. Near as I could discern, a layer of lowering clouds held a permanent residence just beyond the foliage above.
I glanced at Oliver. “Let me guess,” I said. “Welcome to Grim Hope?”
“I see the name is not lost on you,” he replied. “Tell me, in what sort of place did you imagine trolls would live?”
I thought about it for a moment and then grinned at him. “A place just like this, I suppose.”
Oliver started out through the trees. “This way.”
I was obliged to follow, though a year and a half ago I would never have traveled in a place like this without an armed escort. Grim Hope was true to its moniker. I actually felt grim in this place. And as for hope, not a single aspect of this forest kindled hope in the heart. Redclaw and the other trolls I had seen were well-suited to this place. On the other hand, this was also Uriah’s home, and he had been one of the kindest people I had ever met.
Large tree roots wound their ways along the ground like serpents, tripping me up when I failed to pay attention. The ever present fog did much to hide them until it was too late. Once, I thought I might have broken my ankle, but Oliver assured me it would only be sore for a few days.
On a few occasions during our trek, what I had supposed to be roots were actually snakes—lumbering giants that were as gentle as kittens, according to Oliver. I watched briefly as one of them tore leaves from a fern on the forest floor. The beast seemed to be quite content, hardly paying us any mind at all. I stepped over it and caught up to Oliver.
After we had been walking for about twenty minutes, Oliver paused. I drew up beside him, looking around to find what had stopped him. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
“We’re near the Veil,” he replied, “and we have company.”
I saw no one but Oliver, myself and the trees. However, Uriah had taught me how to spot trolls under camouflage. I adjusted the focus of my vision, taking in more detail in addition to heightening my senses to detect heat. An image began to coalesce in my mind between touch and sight. The indistinct forms of hulking warriors appeared in hues of red and yellow. In fact, one of them was standing directly in front of Oliver.
To my surprise, another troll was standing just to my right with an axe drawn back ready to take off my head. How could these brutes move so quietly among the foliage? It seemed impossible. Uriah had once tried to show me his method for crossing the lawn of our home in Highgate without disturbing any of the fallen leaves. I never had been able to manage it, though he had been a master of stealth.
“We’ve come to speak to Redclaw,” Oliver said to the invisible troll ahead.
The spear the warrior had brandished toward Oliver came down as he and his companions became visible. Color, texture and sharpness of features were added to my vision of them, allowing me to relax my enhanced senses. The leader was the most fierce looking in the bunch, which consisted of six trolls encircling us and carrying various weapons.
“I was not informed of any visitors,” he said gruffly.
“He is not expecting me,” Oliver replied. “However, it is a matter of utmost importance to the trolls.”
I was certain I recognized this troll as one of the warriors who had accompanied Redclaw during the attack upon Grayson Stone and the Order of Light in London. I had not gotten his name at the time, but I could see recognition in the glances he made my way. Still, it was probably best to leave the talking up to Oliver at this point.
The troll grumbled before turning away. “I will take you to him,” he said. We were clearly expected to follow, which we did, while the other trolls flanked us on either side.
Another five minutes had not brought us to any new thing. The forest appeared the same on every side. I wondered when we would ever arrive at any place approaching a village or town. However, when we paused, many more troll warriors became visible. Why were there so many guarding absolutely nothing?
My question was answered when we started again. This time, we passed through a membranous barrier that conveyed us beyond the appearance of an old forest. We passed through into a village with sunshine radiating down from the sky. The village buildings had literally been carved from huge boulders jutting from the ground. It was difficult to say whether they had been planted there somehow by the trolls, or had simply been employed as dwellings where they emerged from the ground.
Oliver interrupted my amazement as we walked on with the big troll leading. “We have passed through the Veil,” he said.
“A portal?”
“A barrier that disguises Grim Hope from those who enter the forest,” he replied.
“If it’s only a barrier then why does the village appear so much different than the forest?”
“It’s not just a barrier, but it also isn’t a portal,” he attempted to explain. “This place is here, and the forest also, much like two drawings on two sheets of paper laid over top of one another. Unless the first is pulled back, you cannot see the second.”
I hadn’t heard of this before and my bewilderment showed. “Okay,” I said unsurely.
Oliver grinned. “Trust me, it’s old, powerful magic.”
I nodded and we went on, coming into the village of Grim Hope. Troll men and women walked and talked with one another. Children played in the streets, until they saw us coming. They stared and followed after us, talking with one another about why strangers walked among their people in this secret place.
We passed by a number of finely crafted rock buildings on a makeshift street. Mostly the area was covered in flowers—another oddity in Grim Hope. This all seemed very un-troll like to me. I never would have imagined Redclaw dwelling in a place like this. Fair maidens, perhaps. Trolls? Never.
Further along, I saw vast gardens where trolls tended vegetables and fruit trees. Rows of ripe strawberries extended for half a mile in another direction. Corn fields went another. In the distance, beyond the village, I saw amber fields of wheat grain. All of these the trolls lovingly tended. They were leading a simple but productive life hidden away in a forest where few would dare to tread.
Our escorts remained with us the entire way, just in case we happened to be foolish enough to try and do harm to their village. The leading troll eventually paused outside of a structure that was larger than the homes.
“Redclaw is here for his wounds,” the troll warrior said.
“What wounds would that be?” Oliver inquired.
“He’ll tell you,” the big troll said. He and the others did not leave us, but stationed themselves outside while we went inside.
A troll woman, presumably some sort of physician, was busy bandaging Redclaw’s left arm when we walked into the room. He looked up at us, apparently surprised by our visit. “So, you’re not dead?” he said.
Oliver and I looked at each other, realizing that our long absence had started rumors of our demise. “We’re not dead,” Oliver confirmed. “What has happened to you?”
Redclaw had gashes on his arms and one across his bare chest that had received stitches.
“From Kron’s werewolves when we went to fight for your princess,” he said, indicating me.
“You fought for Sophia?” I asked. “What’s happened?”
“The girl is smart,” he said. “I’ll give her that. She marshaled both the trolls and the elves into aiding her cause. Together we were able to catch Kron unaware and drive him from Tidus. The girl has regained her father’s throne.”
I couldn’t help but smile at hearing Sophia’s good fortune. I knew the Lord had blessed her with wisdom and beauty and now the throne of her father. I couldn’t wait to see her again, though hearing that she might think I was dead caused me s
ome remorse at having left her so abruptly.
Oliver was laughing happily at the news. “At last, something good has happened in all of this madness,” he said. “Surely, Redclaw, you did not also owe your life to Lycean from some past battle.”
Redclaw seemed as though he wouldn’t say for a moment, then he relented. “As a boy, I was taken in a crime within Tidus,” he said. “It was foolishness, but Lycean pardoned me…even though I was a troll. He impressed me that day. Fighting for his daughter’s throne was not too much to ask for such a man.”
Each of us reminisced quietly for a moment. Lycean had been more of an influence on the Descendant clans than I had realized. Certainly, I had respected him a great deal, despite only knowing him a brief time.
“I’m sorry to have missed your brother’s funeral,” I said to Redclaw.
He nodded. “It could not be helped,” he said. “My brother thought a great deal of you, young man. I admit to misjudging you. Any man who would knowingly go into a place like Tartarus to save another is worthy of my respect.”
He turned to Oliver. “I’m sure you already know how Uriah felt about you,” he said. “At any rate, I offer my services to you both in his honor.”
“You’re a good brother,” I said.
“We did not often see eye to eye, but we still cared for one another,” he said. “Just don’t expect me to draw your bath, or press your clothes,” he said with a wink. “Uriah may have enjoyed such things, but I am not like him.”
“Information is all we require for the time being,” Oliver said. “As you know, we’ve been absent from the mortal world for months.”
Redclaw nodded. “Much has happened,” he said, straightening as the physician finished the bandages on his arm. She then went to work on the chest wound, covering her previous stitching in order to prevent infection.
“We found London overrun by pixies,” I said.
He scratched his chin. “Tiberius and his vampires slaughtered many mortals there, but it was not long before the pixies invaded the city. Kron was working with those little cannibals, as he was when you and my brother were taken. Many vampires and pixies died in the conflict, but the pixies prevailed. It was unclear where Tiberius and his Breed went after that, though we’ve heard of suspicious activity in France.”
“Where is Kron now?” I asked.
“We don’t know, though he took those who were dwelling in the village of Wolf’s Bane with him. If I were him, I would set about building my army again with anyone I could find.”
“The pixies in London,” Oliver guessed.
“No one is going to come after him there, that’s for sure,” Redclaw said.
Considering what I had been through when Uriah and I were captured, I couldn’t agree more.
“The Lycans had long built up an immunity to pixie dust,” Oliver said.
“But their army has lost many,” Redclaw answered. “Kron nearly lost his life in London when he came against Tiberius at Westminster. The vampires blew the place up with Kron and many soldiers inside. It is said that an elf wizard managed to heal him when he was at the brink of death.”
Oliver straightened, taking a deep breath.
“Looks like you’ve heard of him,” Redclaw said.
Oliver nodded gravely.
“Kron sent more soldiers to Xandrea trying to break into the city in order to get the princess, but Donatus and the elves would not be overthrown so easily,” Redclaw continued. “Many more Lycan soldiers died there. Survivors were scattered before we joined Donatus in aiding Sophia in Tidus. Apart from the few that were stationed in Wolf’s Bane, I don’t know of any remaining to aid Kron except the pixies in London.”
“That is if his alliance has transferred to whoever is now leading them,” I surmised.
“We don’t know who is leading the pixies now,” Redclaw said. “I would love to wipe them out for what they did to Uriah, but I’m no fool. One whiff of pixie dust is all it takes to incapacitate even the strongest troll. It would be a suicide mission.”
“I’m afraid we have bigger fish to fry,” Oliver said. “We mustn’t forget who has orchestrated all of this.”
“Lucifer through his son, Grayson Stone,” I added.
“This is chaos,” Redclaw observed. “To what end?”
Oliver tapped his temple with his index finger. “With Lucifer involved, there is a definite objective being pursued. Standing in the middle of chaos, we can see no clear cut plan. However, this may only be a part of the bigger picture we don’t see. Chaos can be useful if orchestrated appropriately. Get the players on the board so preoccupied with the conflict that they can’t see what’s coming next.”
“So how do we see the bigger picture?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, we failed to get to the source at Grayson’s estate,” Oliver said. “If we want the big picture, we’re just going to have to continue gathering pieces of the puzzle and putting them in order.”
“Where to next?” I asked.
I think it would be wise for you to go to Tidus,” Oliver said.
“I concur,” Redclaw added. “If we get you killed before the princess finds out you’re still alive, she’ll have our skins on her wall.”
I laughed, but they were probably right. Even though there had been no other way, I had still hurt Sophia by leaving the way that I did. If I didn’t go to her, I might make matters much worse between us. That I couldn’t bear.
“All right,” I said. “But what about you two?”
“Laish is the name of the elf wizard you mentioned,” Oliver said to Redclaw. “I think it would be important to know his part in all of this.”
My interest was piqued. “You said that you knew him. Who is he?”
Oliver sighed heavily. “Laish is Donatus’s twin brother.”
Cousins
Breck remained motionless. He had been ordered to keep an eye on their troll cousins by Dirgen, King of the Goblins. His king had, in turn, been instructed by the English Lord Stone to intervene if the trolls became involved as a people. Much wealth had been given already and many promises made to his people if they supported Lord Stone’s initiative among the Descendant clans.
He had been spying on the trolls for months, but only Redclaw had made any effort to help the other clans in the conflict. However, these past few days had seen Redclaw assemble a small army from Grim Hope’s few thousand residents and become involved in the battle to restore Tidus to Lycean’s daughter. If that didn’t qualify as intervention, Breck didn’t know what would.
When his report was given, King Dirgen had ordered an immediate strike on Grim Hope. Their troll cousins had long enjoyed dwelling in the forests while the goblins preferred the mountains. The ancient Helix portals used by the goblin lords during the Descendant Wars of old were the lifeline of his people. From their mountain halls the goblins could access almost any place in the mortal world.
Countless raids had been made, collecting food and supplies right under the noses of the humans. At one time, they had even taken mortals for slaves, but this practice had been abandoned long ago. Mortals made poor slaves. They were too soft for laboring in the deep places of the mountains. Besides, wild beasts had always raided their slave pins, sniffing out their best specimens. Too much trouble.
The Veil waited ahead for Breck and his goblin brothers. He was to strike fast and hard. “Do as much damage as possible and then get out before they can rally,” King Dirgen had said. “Lord Stone is not interested in a war between goblins and trolls. He just wants them preoccupied, so that they stay out of the other conflicts.”
Breck could understand this thinking. After all, the average troll was nearly twice the size of a goblin and other Descendants. Few armies could stand against a troll army. Not to mention the matter of invisibility which both goblins and trolls had inherited from the fallen angel Dirge.
Fortunately, trolls preferred to keep their distance from the other clans and their wars. They were a reclusive bunch�
��brooding and ill-tempered when their closed society was disturbed. This fact alone made Redclaw’s assistance to the elves and Lycans especially unusual.
A dozen trolls had come back through the Veil to take up their guard positions in the forest. They had recently intercepted and escorted sons of Southresh into Grim Hope. These two men had been mentioned specially by Lord Stone as dangerous Superomancers who were to be killed on sight.
These few guards would be no match for the numbers Breck had brought with him today. He had wisely placed archers in position prior to the trolls coming back through the Veil. Truth be told, the Veil protected the trolls not only by hiding them, but by preventing the goblins from penetrating Grim Hope with their Helix portals. To even breach the Veil one had to have troll blood. Only then did the Veil become permeable.
The guards had not seen him yet, but Breck was hiding behind a stump directly in front of the trolls. He and his goblins were ready. He stood up. Even though he was invisible, the trolls could spot the heat signature. They reacted immediately, brandishing weapons. This had been Breck’s signal to his archers.
Arrows rained down from the trees upon the trolls before they could reach him. The guards were so filled with arrows by the time they fell over that they looked like giant pin cushions. Breck strolled past their bodies, standing before the Veil.
His goblin soldiers descended from the trees which had provided ample barriers to keep the guards from seeing their heat. Breck signaled his goblin brothers to drag the troll bodies into the Veil. They did so, leaving the bodies lying on the boundary. With trolls breaching the membrane, the Veil was now permeable to whoever should choose to walk through.
“Strike hard and fast,” Breck said, flexing his muscles and drawing his sword from the scabbard on his back. “If the sons of Southresh are spotted, kill them immediately.”
Three hundred gray-skinned goblin soldiers, wearing only water skins and their usual loincloths, took up their weapons of choice and followed their commander through the Veil into Grim Hope.