The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  “I know,” Tarah said. “But if you didn’t think I could handle it, would you be handing her back to me?”

  “No,” he said and placed the staff in her hand.

  Tarah didn’t feel anything right away. “I take it you have been suppressing her somehow.”

  “I have,” John said. “She would have been disruptive otherwise. You needed to hear that story and you needed to come to an understanding with Tolynn without her interference.”

  She stood. “Thank you, John. I didn’t know how bad of a situation I was in.”

  He stood as well. “It was my pleasure. Come, Steff. I’m ready for that ride now.”

  The rogue horse rolled to her feet and moved up next to him eagerly. He leapt up onto her back and looked back at Tarah. “Train hard and listen to Tolynn and Beth. The things they can teach you will be invaluable. Also, you still have time to decide what to do with that staff. Her abilities will be needed in the upcoming battles, but if you ever decide that you need to give her up, just speak with Tolynn.”

  “I will,” she said.

  He nodded at her and Steff leapt forward. They rode into the trees and were swiftly out of view.

  Tarah sighed and started back towards the city. She decided to keep to one of the main paths this time. You there, Esmine?

  Yes, the rogue horse replied sullenly.

  Can you keep us hidden on the way back? Tarah asked.

  Yes, Esmine said. No one will see you.

  Tarah jogged up the trail in silence for a while before Esmine spoke again. I am sorry about what I did.

  Me too, Tarah replied. Will you promise me that you will never appear as Grampa Rolf or my Papa again?

  But . . . I guess, Esmine said. But what if I want to talk to you? And not just in the head.

  Now that she didn’t have Tarah’s relatives to hide behind, the rogue horse’s thoughts seemed fairly childlike. Then appear to me as yourself, Tarah said. You were beautiful as a rogue horse. That’s how I like to think of you.

  But I can’t talk when I look like that, Esmine complained. I liked pretending that I had lips.

  Then pick someone else, Tarah said. She was quick to add, Not someone I know.

  As the trail crested the top of the incline, Tarah felt a wave of heat hit her. The smell of the grove was gone. It was replaced by air that was less satisfying to breathe and accompanied by a plethora of biting insects.

  “So can we go back to the grove now?” asked a deep voice and Tarah was startled to see a man running alongside her. He was a Roo-Tan man; handsome, deeply tanned and with white ribbons in his braids. “I like it better in there.”

  “We go back in the morning,” Tarah said. “And no, you can’t be this person. Pick someone else. And be a girl this time. You are not a male.”

  “That’s hard,” he grumbled. Then he evaporated into thin air.

  Tarah jogged alone for a few minutes, then suddenly there was a small girl child standing on the trail in front of her. She was a dark-skinned elf child of the race that tended the grove, looking to be somewhere between the ages of eight and ten in human terms. But unlike the Jharro Grove elves, she had a full head of hair done up in the Roo-Tan style with white ribbons in her braids. She wore a child-sized version of garb that the Roo-Tan warrior women wore, with tight pants and a hide breastplate.

  The elf girl carried a Jharro staff in one hand and used it to point into the trees above. “Look out!”

  Tarah looked up and saw a dark shape falling towards her. She had just enough time to raise her staff defensively before it struck.

  Deathclaw’s weight bore her to the ground. The next thing Tarah knew, she was flat on her back. He had gripped the haft of her staff in both hands and had it pinned under her neck. The raptoid held her down, his reptilian face inches from hers.

  Tarah was startled, but not afraid once she saw who it was. She was fairly sure that Sir Edge’s bonded was no enemy of hers. Esmine, how did he see me?

  “Illusions!” he said in irritation, his lips pulling back to expose bits of flesh caught between sharp teeth. “I will not be fooled again!”

  Sorry! Esmine said. He shouldn’t have seen or heard anything.

  “Get off me, dragon!” Tarah snapped. She could feel his rear claws digging into the leather covering her thighs and she didn’t like the way that the sharp end of his tail hovered over them, ready to strike. “Ugh! Do you not clean your teeth?”

  “You are being sought after, Woodblade,” he hissed. “You are not supposed to be here!”

  “Yeah, well I got that all straightened out,” she assured him. “So move it!”

  He snarled. “Not until the others arrive. You-!”

  Now! Esmine cried and the raptoid flinched.

  Tarah saw flames reflected in his eyes as if they were coming out of her mouth. She spat in his face and he recoiled as if she had spewed fire. This gave her just the leverage she needed.

  Tarah twisted her body and pushed on the staff, forcing him to roll off of her. Both of them came to their feet. He wiped his face with the back of his arm, Esmine’s illusion of heat having worn off.

  “Illusions!” he hissed again.

  “She’s not very good at touch yet,” Tarah said as she twirled her staff. “Now back off. I’m tired of dealing with misunderstandings today and I will beat you senseless if you don’t leave me alone!”

  The raptoid smiled, a hideous sight, as he reached for the handle of his sword.

  Esmine, how many duplicates of me can you make? Tarah asked.

  In answer, the forest was full of Tarah Woodblades, scores of them. Each one twirling her staff and heading towards the raptoid. He tensed up, glancing briefly around him, then leapt towards the spot where Tarah had last been standing, swinging his sword in a wide sweep. It was a wicked strike, but Tarah had moved to the side.

  She swung the butt of her staff against the side of his head. It was a calculated blow, intended to render him unconscious, but he turned his head at the last possible instant. It was a glancing blow. He stumbled forward and twisted around with a back-handed slash of his blade. The tip of it gouged her left shoulder pauldron.

  He hissed in pleasure, his grin widening as blood dripped down the side of his face from the gash her staff had left in his skin. “See? I am learning.”

  Then the swarm of Tarah copies attacked. The staff strikes weren’t real, but left a stinging sensation upon impact. Tarah backed away to give them room to work.

  He shied away from the blows at first, hissing as each one landed, but he soon convinced his body that the sensations were not real. He closed his eyes and stood calmly with his sword raised, ignoring the copies as he sought her out with his other senses.

  “Alright, stop this!” shouted a male voice.

  Tarah turned to see Sir Edge riding through the trees, mounted on Gwyrtha’s back. Jhonate bin Leeths was sitting behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. They came to a stop a few yards away and searched with their eyes, trying to discover which Tarah was real.

  Edge frowned in consternation. “Deathclaw, enough! You know she is not our enemy. And Tarah, please stop tormenting him. He’s going to obsess about this for days.”

  Do I attack them too? Esmine asked.

  No. Go ahead and stop but next time you need to warn me when people are approaching, Tarah said.

  “I was focusing on the dragon,” she replied and all the duplicate Tarahs evaporated.

  Deathclaw opened his eyes. He scowled as if his fun had been ended and slid his sword back into its sheath. “Next time I will puzzle it out.”

  Edge and Jhonate slid down from Gwyrtha’s back and strode towards Tarah. The named warrior was regarding her with curiosity more than anger. “Did you know that the Protector of the Grove is looking for you?”

  “It has been that kind of day,” Tarah said resignedly. “He’s been ignoring me for days, but as soon as I poke my head out the door he wants to talk to me.”

  “Is this
what you call ‘poking your head out the door’?” Jhonate asked. “Sneaking off to the Jharro Grove? You are most fortunate that you did not enter. If you had, the elves would have killed you.”

  “Yeah, I was just on my way back from there,” Tarah said, raising her arm to show them the Jharro bracelet. “You’re right. They did try to kill me. But the Prophet stopped them and now I have to train my magic with Tolynn every day.”

  “Tolynn?” Jhonate said. “She is taking on a trainee?”

  “Wait, the Prophet was there?” Edge asked.

  “Hello, Gwyrtha. Do you remember me?” said a child’s voice.

  Everyone turned around in surprise. The elf child had reappeared and was standing in front of Gwyrtha, reaching out to touch the rogue horse’s nose. Gwyrtha sniffed at her and cocked her large lizard-like head.

  “Who is that elf child and why is she dressed like one of my people?” Jhonate asked in surprise.

  “Gwyrtha says it’s an illusion,” said Sir Edge.

  “It’s Esmine,” Tarah said, surprised that the rogue horse was showing herself to the others. “She doesn’t like appearing as her true self. Or, who she used to be. The child thing is new.”

  The little girl turned her face towards them. “John said I should try talking to everyone. That way I won’t be so bored.” She looked back at Gwyrtha. “Remember how we used to play in the big field behind father’s shed?”

  “Uh, she can’t talk back to you,” Edge said. “But she does remember you. She says that she thought you were dead.”

  “I am,” the little girl responded and patted the top of Gwyrtha’s head again.

  They traveled back to Roo-Tan’lan and Esmine’s illusionary elf child rode Gwyrtha’s back the whole way. Deathclaw walked beside them, trying to attune his senses to the rogue horse’s magic. Sir Edge and Jhonate peppered Tarah with questions along the way, forcing her to recount her experience in the grove.

  Each of them brought their own angle to the interrogation. Jhonate seemed to be bothered that Tarah had gotten away without execution, while Edge seemed more frustrated that the Prophet hadn’t stayed around long enough to talk to him. He particularly didn’t like John’s insinuation that major players were going to die during the fight. Many of those that the Prophet considered major players were his friends.

  Tarah was mainly focused on trying to answer their questions without giving away too many personal details. She had so much difficulty with it that twice along the way Esmine offered to create a diversion so that she could escape. Though the offer was quite tempting, Tarah made herself decline. As nice as it would be to disappear out from under their noses, she was counting on these two to be allies.

  They arrived at the palace to find that the guards were in a state of high alert. Elder Qelvyn had vanished from his rooms and a full search was going on for the merman ambassador. Tarah was summoned to speak with the Protector at once. She asked Esmine to stay inconspicuous until her meeting with him was done. The little girl grumbled, but stayed by Gwyrtha’s side.

  Xedrion bin Leeths was in the visitor’s section of the palace standing in the hallway outside of the ambassador’s rooms. It was only the second time Tarah had met the man in person. He had a stern countenance similar to his daughter Jhonate’s, and his piercing green eyes seemed to analyze everything they fell upon. At that moment they were focused on Tarah and they were not kind.

  “I am not pleased with your actions this morning, Miss Woodblade. I left specific orders with you and your party that you were not to enter the grove. If I had not just received word that Tolynn has taken charge of you, you would be facing a disciplinary council. Believe me, I would not have been as lenient as the Prophet was!”

  “I understand, sir, and I apologize,” Tarah replied. She still felt everyone was overreacting, but now wasn’t the time to bring that up.

  Xedrion nodded and his expression went from angry to merely focused. “However, at the moment, I require your assistance. You may have heard that our merman guest has left us. I understand that you can pick up thoughts from tracks?”

  “I can,” Tarah replied.

  “Then I want to know what he was thinking and where he went and why,” Xedrion said. “As much as you can tell me. His door is the one at the end of the hall.”

  “I’ll see what I can find.” Tarah crouched and looked at the polished floor. The servants in the palace kept the floors remarkably clean, which was helpful in this case. She could see the light outline of every foot print booted or barefooted.

  “I take it your men have been running up and down this hallway while they were looking for him?” she asked

  “They have,” the Protector admitted.

  “That’s not ideal. If someone steps on a track, they replace that memory with their own.” Many of the prints were overlapping. The barefooted tracks were likely left by servants. The Roo-Tan warriors Tarah had seen wore boots or shoes. “What kind of shoes was the ambassador wearing?”

  Xedrion frowned as if unsure, but Jhonate spoke up. “They were sandals of some kind. With wooden bottoms. They made a clacking sound when he walked.”

  “Good. That would leave a distinctive print.” Tarah moved slowly down the hallway, touching a print or two to make sure. The prints mostly belonged to worried soldiers wondering how the merman had gotten away. Then she saw it, a striated pattern. She touched several of them. “This is him. He was worried. Something you said in a meeting earlier caught him off guard. He was rushing into the room intending to leave.”

  “Do you know what bit of information bothered him?” asked Sir Edge.

  “Not yet,” Tarah replied. She stopped in front of the door and looked back at them. “I guess your men have been all through his room as well?”

  “They have looked through it,” the Protector said. “But I told them not to touch anything until I arrived.”

  “Let’s see, shall we?” Tarah said. She touched the outside of the door, but felt no memories of interest. “Would you mind staying outside until I’m finished looking around?”

  The Protector agreed and Tarah opened the door inward. Esmine’s elf child stood there with her finger to her lips. Tarah let the door shut behind her before the others saw.

  I thought you weren’t gonna show yourself in here, Tarah said mentally.

  “They won’t hear me or see me unless I want them to,” the little girl assured her. “Do you want me to make your voice quiet too?”

  Just don’t show yourself to the others, Tarah replied, frowning. And why is it even necessary for you to show yourself to me at all right now? You’re in the staff in my hands for mud’s sake.

  “I like this new form,” the child said, sticking out her lower lip in a cute little pout. “I want to use it.”

  Fine, but I have a job to do. Will you please try not to be disruptive? Tarah asked.

  “I won’t be!” she promised.

  Tarah started her search of the room. Once again, the cleanliness of the servants in the palace made things easier. She went over every available surface, looking for traces of the merman’s thoughts. She didn’t have to look hard. They were everywhere. He had been a ‘guest’ in the palace for quite some time and had spent most of it confined to this room.

  This made the memories a bit jumbled, but eventually, a clear picture began to form in Tarah’s mind. Esmine’s elf child form followed her around as she went through the closet, the washroom, and the bedroom, finally stopping at one of the meshed windows.

  She looked at the little girl. Esmine, will you continue to keep yourself hidden from the others? I know you want to interact with people, but just for now while I’m telling them what I found. I don’t need to complicate things having to explain you again too.

  The little girl pouted again.

  I’ll tell you what, Tarah suggested. Djeri, Cletus, and Willum are probably nearby in your range, right?

  “Still in their rooms,” the girl said. “Djeri’s pacing around and Cletus
is doing tricks with his chain.”

  Why don’t you appear to them and tell them what’s going on? I’m sure they’ll be nice and confused.

  The little girl grew a devilish smile at the idea and disappeared with a tiny pop.

  Tarah sighed and opened the door, calling the others into the room. “Well, I found out where he’s gone off to.” She pointed at the window. It was about three feet by three feet and covered with a thin fabric mesh to keep the insects out. “Out and down.”

  The Protector walked over and looked outside. “There is quite a long drop here and the mesh is still intact.”