The Toll

by Jeanette Lynn

“You lost a little boy I’d promised myself I’d look after.” Staring at him in disbelief and hurt, I scoffed, “What good is a fucking boon going to do?!”

  “Just the same,” his chin dipped in a nod, “it’s owed.”

  “I can’t believe I actually sought out company from you two.” Shaking my head, a hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. “I must be god damned mad!”

  “Ye sought us for companionship?” The look on Quaz’s blanched face meant what I thought of as companionship and what he thought of it, clearly weren’t the same thing.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake! I have one menace bonded to deal with, thank you very much! What would I want with two more? And halfwits, at that! Companionship—friendship—not...” My hand waved around him irritatedly, gesturing at his person. I stopped the second I realized I was unconsciously circling his groin area. Flushing, I muttered, “Stupid me, I’d thought we could all talk. Companionship—friends—nothing more. Not... sex.”

  “Hey!” Ketik bellowed from the large open area. “Dinna be callin’ me daft, woman!”

  “Daft would be a compliment!” I snarled back. “I was merely insinuating you’re incompetent!”

  “Oh.” A pause and then, “Oi! What’s the difference, then?”

  “Exactly!”

  Quaz’s eyes were lit up, but not with magic. Filled with mirth, he appeared almost gleeful at the exchange.

  “I don’t know what you’re smirking about,” I clipped out.

  His lips tugged up at the corners in a way that made me want to brain him.

  “And, yeah, well, you can take your boon, you giant, pea-brained oaf, and stick it up your ass!!”

  Marching back to my room, I stormed inside, ignoring his deep, heavy chuckle as it echoed off the walls.

  “Asshole.”

  Ignoring my frustrated growl, his laugh went on a little longer.

  Midnight Rendezvous

  It was very early or very late, however one chose to see it, when something had me stirring. A small, short cry, and my eyes cracked open.

  Humming low in his throat, small loin cloth covering his person, Troll was standing over Calder’s bed, cuddling him close, chest vibrating as he nuzzled the tiny grey head. Calder, wide-eyed and wide awake, was humming back, cooing softly as his little pudgy fist batted at his father’s face. Eyes closing peacefully, inhaling deeply, Troll let out several deep, calming sighs, pose relaxed, body loose.

  Everything inside me melted at the sight, but I still didn’t want Troll to know I’d caught him. Closing my eyes, I sighed and rolled over, slowly drifting back to sleep. If he’d wanted me to know he came late when I was asleep to see his son, he would have made his presence known to me. Calder is his child too, after all, and who am I to get in the way of that?

  I wouldn’t.

  He’s not hurting him, merely spending time with his son. No, I wasn’t going to say a thing, not that I could anyways, since I never see him. No, I’d let sleeping dogs lie. It’s probably better this way.

  Better for who? A small part of me wondered.

  As the sound of Calder’s steady, even breathing reached my ears, and the shuffling of large feet as they crept out of the room, a thought struck me. Eyes popping open wide, I frowned as I stared after the opening to the room. Does this mean he’s changed his mind about me?

  ****

  Three weeks after that, I had my answer.

  Since Calder had been born, with the exception of waking whenever he cried out, ready for his nightly feeding, I slept heavily.

  The tension in this labyrinth of cave cubbies, long halls and right and left turns, had grown increasingly tense. You could taste it in the air, things, ominous things, yet to come, were brewing.

  Ketik and Quaz steered clear of me, not even wishing to walk down the main hall which led to my room anymore. Detouring around, they used the lesser used, more unpolished routes, rather than have to even see me, which led to my increasing discomfort and the small but growing wish to leave, deepening my unease. Still, I felt pinned, hemmed in. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t leave. Just thinking about it had me shaking so bad, wracked with dread and an innate sense of doom, I struggled to get through the day without pulling my hair out, one huge hand-filled clump at a time.

  I’m slowly going mad. Is this what Troll is experiencing? My heart lurched at the thought. If he would just show himself, and maybe talk to me, we could figure this out, help each other through it. I hated the rift between us, and despite his claiming I’m his, all the things he’d said in the lake, reducing us to nothing more than sex, kept me in my place.

  I felt something lately, maybe a break in the bond, gnawing at me. I know he didn’t mean it, what he’d said, but lies, when spoken as truth, can blacken the soul.

  And maybe the reason I didn’t leave was actually because I really don’t want to. Maybe I’m waiting for Troll to stop looking like something out of a nightmare and start acting like the disgruntled ruffian I’d come to know, the ornery troll, my Troll, that I’d foolishly come to love.

  Love. Pfft. What a fickle word.

  Whenever I tried to press Quaz about Troll—Where is he? What’s keeping him? Why doesn’t he come?—if I could actually catch the wily Ornthren off guard, he was always quick to rush off. How could such a large, lumbering beast escape me so easily? It was like magic.

  Hmph. Hah! Come to think of it, it probably was magic.

  I would have searched for Troll myself if I’d thought it possible, but the few times I’d tried proved fruitless. He’s avoiding me, everything inside me said so, the many times I’d wandered around this huge underground cave system, only to end up right where I’d began, lent proof. But why?

  He doesn’t really want me. That was the thought weighing on me, like a sack of bricks, as I’d fallen fitfully asleep.

  ****

  Warm, full of warmth. The soft growl rustling my hair had me rolling over. Blinking my eyes open owlishly as long, bony fingers dug into my hips, gripping me tight, I let out a coarse scream, slapping at the large body looming over me.

  Panic engulfed me and I almost screamed his name, but it wasn’t his face looming over me, or his hands gripping me, they were Troll’s.

  A deep, feral snarl had me jumping, gaze focusing on his emaciated face.

  “Mine,” he snarled into my shocked gaze, glaring down the length of his nose at me as his nostrils flared, the ends of our noses touching.

  My scream died in my throat and I gaped up at him. Black eyes, soulless and dark, black as pitch, were narrowed, slitted and angry, bearing down on me.

  “Mine,” he growled, chest rumbling as he pressed his torso onto my chest. He was stating, undeniably, what part of me, particularly, he felt he had the right to lay claim.

  Though quiet for the moment, stunned to it, I strongly disagreed.

  His ribs were all showing, huge frame and bone structure at odds with his current shape and appearance. Ghastly, frightening, he was a thing of dreams gone bad.

  “Mine.” Hot and hard, his length pressed into my thigh, digging in hard enough to make me wince. This wasn’t Troll, this was someone else, this male was feral, and wild—a beast.

  “Troll,” I gasped, wriggling underneath him as I reached forward, ignoring the warning snap of his teeth, gripping his wrists tight. Shoving at him, I implored beseechingly, “I know you don’t know what you’re doing,” the glazed look in his eyes agreed, “but I won’t do this with you, not now, and not like this. I’m not your... I’m not your whore.”

  Flinging my hands off easily, he grasped them, pinning them over my head. “Mine.” Voice gone a little deeper, more vehement, his hips pressed harder.

  “I’m not yours, for sex,” I ground out. I’m more than that. I knew what he wanted and what was about to happen, all the air in my lungs leaving me in a harsh exhalation. I wasn’t ready—it’s too soon. “Troll, please.” It was pointless, he wasn’t Troll at the moment, he wasn’t Gersthart, or Bektam, or an
ything, there was no right frame of mind. He had none. He was pure madness—the curse incarnate.

  Hissing between clenched teeth, he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight, warring with himself. Rocking slowly, in some kind of trance, growling softly, if only to himself, it was like he was trying to snap himself out of it, but simply couldn’t.

  The roar he let loose, right over my head, lifted his chest, giving me enough room to kick out at him. Not up to his full strength, he took the brunt of my heel, flying back in a shower of blue sparks as I shouted out in surprise.

  Landing on the floor with a harsh, bone jarring thud, his back slammed into the wall, leaving another crater-sized hole for me to stare at, next to the wall that had a Quaz-sized one.

  Calder started crying right then and Troll’s eyes shot up, the black absorbing the entire orb retreating until white irises slowly peeked through.

  Rushing to comfort the crying babe, I picked him up, staying on the opposite side of the room as I backed into the corner, rocking him gently as I crooned to him softly. “It’s alright. It’s alright, there.”

  Troll just stared at us, unsteady as he tried to stumble to his feet.

  Shaking his head several times, chest heaving, he gritted out, “Troll... hurt him?”

  Watching him closely, I just stared at him.

  Tension in his shoulders ratcheting up, he snapped, “Hurt lad or no’?” His voice was so deep and gruff, gritty, it was hard to make sense of him.

  “No,” I said finally.

  “Troll hurt...” his words trailed off as his dark gaze traveled down my length, pausing when they reached my wrists to stare.

  Not meeting his eyes, I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry,” I blurted, “but you aren’t, you weren’t...” You weren’t you. This was worse than I’d thought. He doesn’t remember anything when he goes animal/beast like that. Are we truly safe here with him?

  “Nugget.”

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly peeked up at him.

  As my eyes met his, something shifted, something finite and fragile, like glass. As his black gaze, sprinkling with orange met my wide blues, I felt as if it had just shattered at our feet.

  Closing his eyes tight, he murmured, “Forgive... me.”

  As he practically ran from the room, Quaz and Ketik came barreling in, fighting to get past each other in their rush.

  “Troll?” I called, but he was already gone.

  Quaz studied the room and the Troll-sized indent along the wall, scented the fear rolling off of me, the acrid stench filling the room, glanced towards the rumpled sheets, and his expression went stone hard.

  “Whatha fuck jus’ happened?” Ketik grumbled, squinting, half awake.

  “Nothin’, an’ none ‘o’ yer business. Let’s go.” Quaz, with one long look at me and a nod, left.

  Ketik, clearly puzzled by his brother’s surly snapping, followed after reluctantly. “Dinna be breakin’ me eldest,” he rumbled ominously, eyes narrowed angrily.

  I lost it right there, bum landing hard on the bed as I turned to face away from him. “He deserted me, Ketik. He forsook our bond. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. I would have stayed! It hurt me to be apart too! Do you get that? Understand what that means?” Tears slowly trickling down my face, I didn’t care, turning my head to meet his gaze squarely. “I didn’t ask for any of this any more than he did, but I never betrayed him, never lied, and I never left him out to dry. Never. You remember that the next time you hurl insults at me like sharpened spikes. Damn you, and damn me, I love him! Okay? Shocking, considering how this all started, but I do! I’d thought we’d bonded before I knew we’d bonded. We had a... uh, uhm, a connection. I haven’t felt connected to anyone like that ever. Do you know what that’s like?” It was hard to continue, but it needed being said. My hands brushed across my runes absently and my face fell miserably. “He couldn’t even ask me,” watery blue eyes met his, “he’d just assumed. I was wrong and I’d tricked him, that’s what he thought, and that’s all that mattered. I wasn’t given a voice, or a choice. I understand why he felt that way now, but I’d expected more. I’d let him in. It hurt. You smell a lie, don’t you?” My head shook sadly. “He didn’t even believe me then.”

  “You’re human,” he spat, as if that explained it all.

  But didn’t it?

  “I was human, and I was asking him to give me a chance, let me explain. He wouldn’t even allow that. By the time he’d listen...” My face pulled tight, pursing my lips so they didn’t quaver. “The point is, we were both victims, both of us. We were supposed to be in this together.” My voice was choking on a sob but I stifled it when Calder grew restless. “I wasn’t given a choice in any of this, he took mine again when he decided, again, for us.” Thinking of him deserting me, dredging it up, burned. “He chose, I didn’t. I would have stayed.” Sighing heavily, I told him exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “Whether you wish to blame me or not, you know the truth, do with it what you will. He did this to himself.” I would have stayed. Everything gone on between us be damned, I would have stayed. I’d accepted all the broken, dark parts of him as he’d accepted mine—a bond of souls. We could have soothed each other... Could have been broken together.

  From the look on Ketik’s face as emotions poured out of me, the words just tumbling from my lips, the change in his frown, a glimmer of something—Understanding? Sympathy? Dare I say it, compassion?—shone through the cracks. I didn’t need his sympathy or even his understanding, I just wanted him to quit pinning me as the villain in this piece. Every snide remark was like a knife to my gut, like looking into Troll’s soulless eyes, once vibrant and bright, swirling orange, and wondering, could I have saved him from this somehow? Spared him his fate? But I couldn’t, and I knew it. He’d made his own choices, this was him reaping his own fate.

  Voice cracking, I finally looked away, closing my eyes as my lips trembled. “He did it to himself,” I repeated, if only to convince myself, “remember that.”

  Ignore the missive, reap the fate.

  No toll will save a bonded break.

  Rupture

  “Missus. Psst. Missus.”

  “Mm. No.” Grunting, I rolled over, swatting away whatever was poking at my face. Small, blunt and pointy, it was starting to hurt.

  “Missus!” The small voice hissed, barely above a whisper.

  About to scream and start thrashing about, thinking I’d come face to face with a Troll-beast sneaking up on me to claim me when I opened my eyes, I shot up and rolled across the bed. Eyes darting around, hovering over Calder’s sleeping crate where he dreamed peacefully, fast asleep, a hiss slipped past the snarl on my lips. Crouching down, my runes lit up, blue fire spitting from my eyes.

  “Missus?” Shock, as stunned as the voice uttering those words, had me gasping out loud. The strangled voice had my head swiveling to the dark brown mop of hair, tufts sticking up everywhere, this way and that, poking up from the opposite side of the bed.

  “Brevin.” Blinking down at him stupidly, it took a moment to process what I was seeing. “Brevin?”

  A small smile, shy but wary, tipped his small, thin lips, shaggy brown hair falling into his large brown eyes, high cheek bones, smudged with dirt across his dingy complexion, pinkened clear across the bridge of his nose. “Is me missus. You alright?”

  “Oh. Brevin!” Hopping on and across the bed, I nabbed him up into a bear hug, his little legs dangling off the floor as I cuddled him tight. “Brev, I thought you’d left us.” The joy in my voice couldn’t be contained, nor could the tears.

  Brevin’s little head leaned against me and he went limp as a noodle, arms wrapping around me tight to return my enthusiastic embrace.

  “When you left, oh, I was so worried. I mean, where were you? Where did you go? Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you?” Setting him none too gently on his feet, ready for answers right this minute, I took his little hands in mine, throwing questions at him left and right. “
Have you been warm enough? Are you eating enough? Are you hungry now? I-”

  “Missus,” Brevin mumbled embarrassedly, tugging his hands away to rub at his scrawny little arm with dirty fingernails as his face flushed a deep pink, “I’m fine, as I said.”

  Frowning, hands on my hips at his put out tone, I arched a brow. “Fine, huh? And since when, did you say?”

  At my tone his chin jerked up.

  Thinking it over for a moment, eyes wide, he cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. “I would have, if missus would’ve let me.”

  “Pfft. Cheeky,” I huffed, chucking him under the chin.

  Tilting his head to the side, a small smile played at his lips, brown eyes alight, brimming with happiness. “I just came to see how my missus and the babe were doing,” he shrugged and tugged at the hem of his filthy shirt, “then, I’m off.”

  “Off? But you just came back.” I had trouble accepting that, but felt a soft touch was necessary. If I demanded he stay, he might balk and run off anyhow.

  He’s a boy! He can’t just gallivant around the countryside by himself. And besides, I’d missed the little bugger.

  A noise echoed off the cave walls and Brevin walked to the entry way, leaning forward enough to peer into the empty hall beyond. Once he was satisfied, he ducked back in, hugging along the wall.

  “Is missus alright here?”

  Earnest and clearly concerned, I found myself smiling a little as I stared down at him.

  “We’re fine. Are you... did you... Have you found a safe place to stay?” I chose my words carefully.

  Were we? Fine, that is. Calder was.

  In fact, Calder has been doing wonderfully. He’s growing like a weed, much faster than a human child, and I was already mourning the loss of a few more baby years with my little boy. Ornthren, apparently, develop faster, much faster. Already holding his head up, trying to pull himself up and roll over. I wanted to both cry and rejoice each mile stone.