by R. R. Virdi
“Oh, wow. And if I said I disagree with that plan?” I took a cautionary step back.
He chortled. It sounded like a diesel truck backfiring. “Shum break you.”
“Yeah, I got that. Say it in a Russian accent, huh, Drago?”
The troll’s face tightened as he squinted.
Not all monsters are intelligent. But for what they don’t have in brains, someone saw fit to make up for in bulk and freakish strength.
Whoopee.
I raised a hand in the hope it would give the troll pause. My fingers brushed against the fallen piece of art. It was the canvas of pure and confusing white. I smiled. “Hey, answer a question will ya?”
The troll’s brows furrowed.
“Do you get art?” I snatched up the piece and twisted. It sailed through the air and impacted the troll’s forehead. The frame shattered like glass on concrete.
The troll blinked and brushed a hand against his Neanderthal-like skull. The smile he gave me was reserved for sharks.
“Uh oh. Guess you’re not big on art, huh?”
“Shum fan of abstract expressionism—Pollock. Gonna paint walls with yer blood. Splatter red and bone marrow.”
There’s a first time for everything. Like meeting a troll who can make a better highbrow art joke than you can. I found that unacceptable.
“I don’t suppose you can answer why you want to pancake me?”
“Shum the best. Only one for job. No want you interfering. Leave.”
His spiel sounded like the Night Runner’s. Something was going on that had me wrapped up in the center, and seemed like a contest. One I wanted no part of. I made that clear. “Hey, your elf buddy found out I’m not involved the hard way.” I put a hand over my heart.
Mentioning the Night Runner wasn’t the best idea.
The troll shook his head, sending spittle everywhere. A cavernous roar reverberated through the room. He charged.
Ooooh boy. I leapt to the side, pressing myself flat against the wall as he steamrolled by. Paintings wobbled and shook on the walls. The freak must have weighed over a ton. And he didn’t stop.
The sound of drywall and wood turning into dust is something else. It was like a car had crashed into the far wall.
Daniel was dead, but I felt a bit of obligation on his part to decry the action. “The dead dude’s gallery! You ass crumb!”
An oversized hand popped from the gaping hole and gripped the destroyed edges of the wall. The rest of the troll followed. His eyes settled on me and flattened.
I licked my lips. “Uh, the ass crumb thing, nothing personal.” I let out a weak laugh.
The troll palmed a painting that had managed to remain hanging. He grinned and hurled it like a discus, and I had no intention of catching it.
I fell to the ground and crawled towards the next hall. I didn’t make it far.
Shum covered ground quickly. His fingers clenched around the back of my shirt, and my body left the ground. An amused light hung in his eyes.
I knew what was going to happen.
He sniffed me, and his face twisted in disgust.
I found that unfair, considering that he was the one that smelled like he had spritzed himself in Eau de Garbage. “So, while you’ve got me all warm and tender in your grasp, mind telling me how you figured out who I was?”
“Can smell you, Little Spirit. Smell wrong in wrong body.”
That was new. I wasn’t aware I carried an odor trolls could pick up. Church needed to know about that and fix it.
“Heh, look who’s talking. You smell like shit.”
Wrong words to say.
The troll pulled me close then swung his arm wide. He did so with no visible effort.
There was one benefit though. His ugly mug grew further away from me. So did the far wall as I soared through the air. I shut my eyes and tightened in preparation of the inevitable. The entire backside of my body felt like I’d been whipped and stoned at the same time. Every inch throbbed as the surface of my skin endured bursts of heated shocks. I shook my head and reached out to grab both sides of the crumbling drywall.
Thank God the only stud that got hit was me. I didn’t think my borrowed body would be able to take going through one of those wooden beams without my spine being atomized. My abilities ensure I can take a heckuva lot more punishment than any normal person. They didn’t make me invulnerable—sadly. A low groan was the only sound I could make. I lay corrected when my chest tightened and a dry wheeze passed through my lips.
Shum came towards me.
Lying around on the job wasn’t professional. Nor was it safe when a troll was headed my way. I groaned and stifled the internal screaming throughout my body. My arms tensed as I pulled against the deteriorating wall to haul myself up.
The troll angled his shoulder towards me and picked up speed. Shum aimed to be a battering ram. If he hit me, I would have my own line of jelly.
There’s always one fail-proof technique to rely on when fighting something laughably out of your weight class. I pushed away from the wall and ran. My feet skidded atop the floor as the room juddered from Shum’s impact against the wall. He passed through like a freaking semi.
Debris spewed across the room.
I gawked at the scene. Running wasn’t an option. If I kept it up, Thomas the Troll Engine would steamroll my ass, and the gallery, into dust. There was one option left. I hate last resorts. I balled my fists and raised them.
He eyed me obliquely. “What doing?”
I sighed. “Proving I’m an idiot. Let’s go!”
He released a series of amused huffs through his nostrils. Shum seemed pleased by the prospect of getting into a fistfight. He raised a hand that could have easily engulfed my head. His fingers curled into a fist and he lashed out to his side. The troll’s hand crashed into an intricately carved obelisk. The stone shattered like it was made from cheap clay.
I gulped.
Shum smiled. He took a single step towards me. His face broke into an expression saying he looked forward to this.
I didn’t. I looked around the room, trying to find something to give me an edge. My chest shook, and I couldn’t hold back the laughter.
Shum stopped and eyed me like I was a lunatic. “Why laughing? You crazy?”
“A bit.” I waved a hand to the pair of metal sculptures in the room.
The troll’s eyes fixated on the copper piece. They filled with a hungry light and seemed to swell.
“That’s a lot of copper. I know how much you folk love that. Think about it; you could walk away from this a rich troll. I own this place. How about we calm down, you explain things—maybe try not to squish me—and you can take all the copper you can carry, huh?”
Shum’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. He scratched the underside of his chin before turning to me. The look he flashed me made my stomach feel like it was churning cement. “Why not Shum kill you and take copper anyway?” He grinned like a kid who found out they could eat their cake and have it too.
Great. I had to end up fighting the one troll who had taken weekend entrepreneurship classes.
“Well, sucks we couldn’t come to an agreement, big fella. I’m going to have to hurt you now.”
He snorted.
I leaned towards him, prompting him to rush me. The plan wasn’t to get in a grappling session with him. I leapt to the right and sped towards the other sculpture. My feet left the ground as I hurtled and tumbled over it. I reached out and grabbed a steel pipe, using my body to lean back and wrench. Metal groaned as one of the pipes relinquished its hold on the others. It popped free.
The piece was the same length as my forearm and as thick as my thumb. Solid enough for what I needed. I gave it a quick flourish.
Shum didn’t seem perturbed by the blunt weapon.
Ignorance hurts most.
I beckoned him with a wave of my hand.
His face twisted as he made an abhorrent gurgling noise. A globule of spittle struck the floor. Shum s
tepped towards me, rolling his shoulders like he was loosening them.
A series of short breaths left through my nose as I tried to calm myself. My plan would work. In theory. Okay, I hoped it would work. My grip tightened on the steel rod, and I rushed the troll.
He snarled and swatted a hand at me like I was nothing more than a fly.
I took offense to that. My knees bent, and I twisted my torso, avoiding the hand as it sailed overhead. I reversed the pipe, ensuring the sharper edge pointed out. With a snap of my arm, I sent the piece plunging towards the troll. It bit into the side of his forearm. There was a flare like the first light of a firework.
Purple light strobed, and the troll’s skin sizzled like meat hitting a skillet. The pipe parted flesh with ease. It skewered the arm and shot through the other side.
Faeries cannot abide the touch of iron and steel. Man’s metal is like a poisoned scalpel on their flesh. He should have paid more attention to what I had grabbed.
I twisted and wrenched the pipe free. Another twist and snap sent the piece dragging across his belly.
The skin split and seared.
I winced and recoiled. Burning flesh has a smell that clings to the hairs in your nostrils. It stings and makes your nose feel like you’ve snorted sand.
Red, hair-thin lines streaked through Shum’s eyes. Moisture lined his lids and a few drops fell down his cheeks. He pressed a hand to his belly, staring at the wound in disbelief. He blinked several times as if it would clear his vision and he’d find the injury was an illusion.
Too bad.
Shum turned his watery eyes to me. “You cut Shum...with steel?”
I shrugged and twirled the rod in my hand. “Shum wrecked my gallery, tossed me through a wall, and wanted to turn me into a spread for toast. Shum can go fuck himself.” You know your life has taken a wrong turn when you’re talking to the monster you’re fighting in third person.
The troll glanced at the rod. It was coated in a viscous ichor the color of boysenberry. Troll blood wasn’t a pretty sight. Shum got that much. He also knew if he kept it up, there would be a lot more spilling over the place.
“Go again?” I twirled the pipe in a flourish. It got the point across.
Shum eyed the weapon, then me. The hungry look from earlier returned.
That’s never a good sign. My heart felt like a row of firecrackers going off. Liquid nitrogen flowed through my veins.
Shum confirmed my fear the next second. He squinted, looking like he was using all his brain-power to accomplish the task.
The air hissed behind me. I turned.
A streak of poppy-colored light rolled through the air, splitting open like a blossoming flower. Another Way.
I turned back to Shum. I should have done it sooner.
The troll closed his fingers around my left arm and shoved.
I spun, trying to keep my balance. There was only one way to go—backward. The orange light enveloped me, and I passed through the Way.
I had a bad feeling Shum would follow.
* * *
My back cried out for the hundredth time since starting my case. The skies were streaked with colors pulled from a neon sign. A shock ran through my body from my heels to the base of my skull.
Shum had landed.
Wonderful. The Neravene. A world of infinite domains belonging to everything out of mythology that called it home. That included the crude, business-savvy troll keen on killing me.
I propped myself up on my elbows and glared at him. “So, now that you’ve dragged me back to your place for a night of drinks and gossip, care to tell me what’s going on?”
Shum squinted. “You making fun of me?”
I sighed. “No, just tell me what the hell is happening. And be clear.” I smacked the pipe against the ground to accentuate my point.
His eyes traced the pipe’s movements. He whipped his head around like he was worried about being seen. Shum leaned forwards and put a hand to the side of his mouth. “It safe here. Alone. Quiet.”
I bristled. Those weren’t the words I wanted to hear after being tossed through a magical doorway. Not from a troll, and definitely not in that order. “Uh, thanks?”
He nodded. “No more hurt Shum?” The troll arched a brow and stared.
“You started the fight. I was just finishing it. I’m totally fine with moving on. Just answer my questions.”
The troll twiddled his thumbs before tapping the points of his index fingers together. It was like watching an anxious child—a kid that weighed tons and had a hankering for eating people—work up the courage to say something that should be kept secret. “Shum fighting for job.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. “Yeah, I hear the job market is shit these days. How does that involve me?”
His body went rigid, and his eyes widened. “You don’t know?”
“No! That’s what I’ve been saying.”
He pursed his flabby lips and put a finger to them. “Um, Shum don’t know word.”
That wasn’t a surprise.
“Powerful being looking for help. Many rewards.” He mimed a large circle with his hands. “Big ones. Do job. Lots of favors.” His mouth spread into a leer. “Much power.”
Trolls coveted that more than they did copper. They were competitive to the point of being barbaric. Strength and power were the way to the top. You fought. Weak trolls were torn apart by the strong. It’s not pretty what happens to those that can’t cut it.
It’s a troll-eat-troll world—literally.
“Okay.” I nodded. “I think I’ve got a bit of it. Someone’s putting a call out for what, muscle?”
He bowed his head and winced. The bleeding hadn’t stopped. They weren’t fatal injuries, but they weren’t paper cuts either. Shum was hurting. Good. It’d serve as a reminder to keep him from trying anything.
“What do they need this muscle for?”
Shum shook his head. “Dunno. Only know rewards.”
I bit my lip. This seemed less to do with my case and more to do with something stirring in the paranormal world. Something that had managed to drag me into it. “Do you know anything else?”
“Nobody want competition.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out for a moment. “Are you saying I’m part of the competition?”
He nodded.
“But I didn’t even know about this!” I’ve built a bit of a reputation for causing trouble and starting problems in the paranormal world, but this was ridiculous.
“You were named, Little Spirit.”
Someone called me out by name. That meant someone wanted me dead. Another thought crossed my mind. This was starting to look like tryouts. Someone was watching me to see if I was recruitment material.
Yeah, but for what?
“And you know nothing else about the job, right, Shum?”
He shook his head again.
“Okay, fair enough. So, a supernatural draft is going on, and I’m in the running.”
Shum’s eyes lost focus as he fumbled to make sense of the string of words. “Uh huh.”
I eyed the troll and crawled a foot away. “Does this mean you’re going to jump me again? You’re not still raring to take out the competition, are you?”
He raised a hand and waved it at me. “No. Shum no want more pain.”
Wow. I’m not one to push my luck. I inclined my head as a way of thanks. “I don’t suppose you can open a Way and let me get out?”
He shook his head.
My stomach knotted. “What?”
“Shum open only two Ways.” He jabbed a finger to the ground below. “Home.” He arched his arms over his head, interlocking his fingers to form an arch. “And safe place there.”
His place of holding. Every creature out of the Neravene had one. A place they could home in on that established a connection with them. Navigating and opening Ways was complex. It’s like driving across the world with a road map, except the routes are always changing. And if you don�
��t have that map, you’re not going far. Most beings struggle to discover more than a handful of Ways. Two is commonplace.
My stomach wound tighter. I had an idea where the troll’s Way would lead. “Is the bridge in Queens? Better yet, how ‘bout Long Island City?”
Shum’s brows knitted together. “Not bridge. Shum not...” He looked away before turning his gaze to the ground. “Shum not big troll. No have bridge of own.”
I resisted the urge to snicker. That would have been rude. I was starting to feel sorry for Shum. A fist-sized spasm in my lower back caused me to reconsider my sympathy. The jerk had battered me good. I arched a brow and waited for him to clarify.
“Alley.”
Oh. That would work just fine. “Okay, so how’s about you pop open the magical express and let me hop on through?”
He nodded and repeated the action of opening his Way.
The air parted, and I stared at a mirror image of the opening from before. A vice-like grip ensconced my ankle. My eyes widened.
Oh no.
Shum wasn’t a bright guy.
I shut my eyes and tensed as my body left the ground. Air rushed by as I flew through the Way.
I hate trolls.
My body tingled as the magical opening swallowed me. Tingling turned to feeling like I had been body slammed by a bus. I opened my eyes.
The alley was dark, but I could see morning light filtering through the opening.
I lay against the wall. My brain was still doing an acrobatic routine inside my skull. Passing out seemed like a good idea.
So I did.
The alley’s darkness enveloped me.
Chapter Six
My lids felt like they were sewn shut. I buried the heels of my palms against my eyes in the hopes they’d open. “Hsst.” I winced and recoiled from the mouth of the alley. My eyes shut on reflex from the morning light.
My nap must’ve lasted a while.
A jolt of electricity coursed through my mind and nestled in my heart. The thought galvanized me to check my forearm.
Six hours had passed. I had forty-nine left and not much of a clue where to go. Never mind the fact I didn’t know where I was.
Everything the troll had given me pointed to a power outside my case. It was too much of a leap to assume my search and the strange interruptions were related. All that train of thought would do is taint my investigation with a bias it didn’t need.