“We were so worried when we came from the mists of the arch and you were not there. What happened to you?” he asked.
As Jenny stood back she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. She explained what had happened.
“It sounds like something interfered with your travelling through the arch. You were very lucky to be helped by this snow troll. I would like to thank him for saving your life.”
“He’s here, he just put me down.” Jenny turned to where the white woolly beast had been. It had slipped away without a word. “He’s gone. I never even got to know what its name was.”
“Never mind, little one. Many people help people for the sake of helping and need no gratitude in return.”
Jenny realised that although she felt sure Gentle had not meant it, this statement also referred to her new friends.
“Come, it’s nearly time for ye audience with the Winter Court. We have to get ye ready,” explained Dawn.
Before Jenny could have time to think she was being led into a suite of rooms. Laid out on a huge four poster bed was her beautiful blue dress. At the foot of the bed sat her new shoes. A door opened and what Jenny took for a short albino dwarf ambled out of it.
“Greetings, friends of the ambassador. I am Shall. If there is anything you need during your stay here just call my name and I will do my best to see to your needs. If you would go through that door you will find a nice hot bath ready for you.” Shall had a deep voice for someone so small, surely only four feet tall.
“That sounds nice, but my friends?”
“We will be all right, Jenny. Go on, you need to make yourself presentable for the Winter Court.”
Mollified, but still feeling a niggling doubt she went through the door. Inside was a huge bath, more like a small swimming pool. Steam rose towards an intricate mosaic in tile on the ceiling. Jenny could not quite make it out. It seemed to be some kind of forest scene. The steam coming from the bath was full of scents; lavender, mint, rose, rosemary and scents Jenny did not recognise. The heat coming off the bath was like a siren call in the cold.
Jenny saw a screen decorated like the ceiling so she stepped behind it and placed her clothes on the wooden bench she found there. She stepped down the marble steps built into the pools side and sat in the bath-pool with the deliciously hot water up to her chin. She almost let go and just floated off to sleep. Come on, girl, you’re not here to enjoy yourself, you’re here to make yourself presentable so that you can persuade the Winter Court to let Peter go.
She reached for a large shell on the side. It held a selection of soaps. Some were in the shapes of fish or swans and many had sweet scents. None looked like she could have bought them in her local shop. She chose one shaped like a flower that smelt of jasmine and scrubbed herself clean. There was also a big selection of shampoos. She chose one that smelt similar to the soap. To Jenny’s pleased surprise the water stayed hot the entire time she stayed in the bath.
Okay Jenny, just float here for a few more minutes and then you must get out. She stared at the ceiling, studying the intricate mosaic. At first she had thought it was distorted or the steam blurring it but now she realised that the images of dragons, huntsmen, hounds and plants all blurred into one another like some surreal dream.
She got out of the bath and towelled herself off with a huge silk towel. Jenny did not feel comfortable in all this expensive luxury but there was nothing else to dry herself with. She went through to the bedroom where the cold hit her. She wrapped the towel more tightly around her and studied her pretty dress.
It’s very pretty, White, but it’s not going to stop me from turning into an icicle. Then she noticed some clothes she had not seen before, a long undertunic made from some thick white fur. She quickly put it on. It stopped just above her knees and made her feel a lot warmer. She then reluctantly pulled the dress over her head and tugged on the shoes, more to get her feet of the freezing floor than a desire to wear them. As soon as she put them on they started to radiate heat like they had tiny fires inside them, warming her feet and running up her legs. She noticed a full length mirror, its silver frame decorated with icicles and snowflakes. As she approached it she spotted a dressing table and ornate rocking chair. Draped across it was a huge white fur cloak. On the dressing table there was a large envelope. Jenny was beginning to recognise White’s writing on sight. How had it gotten here? She opened it.
Dear Jenny, if you’re reading this then I am very sorry but something must have gone wrong. Do not worry, I have taken steps in case this happens. In front of you there should be a large cloak. Put it on. It is just as warming as your new skin but will be more fashionable at court. It should contain everything you need to get Peter back.
How can a cloak help me get Peter back? How could he know about the snow troll’s pelt? Despite feeling that White was being overly optimistic she draped it over her shoulders. When she picked it up it felt very heavy but put it on it felt much lighter. As soon as she put it on she felt warmer. It was not just the normal warmth of a cloak. She did not know how else to explain but that it felt like she was wearing sunlight. She fumbled with the clasp. It was an obsidian clasp, shaped into black hands that held each other. They were covered in scales and tipped with claws. It was not pretty, but what else was she supposed to use to keep it closed.
As she wrapped it tightly around her something bumped against her hip. What was it? She reached inside the cloak to find a pocket and felt inside, pulling out something heavy that sparkled in the light. It was the dagger White had left her. She had left it in her old clothes. How had it gotten here?
A soft knock came on her door. “Just a moment,” called Jenny, pushing the dagger back into the cloak’s pocket. “Okay, you can come in now.”
The door opened. Standing there was Softy, but for a moment she did not recognise him. He’d had a bath and his bark like skin shone in the low light as if it had been polished or oiled. He wore a white tunic and trousers with green boots and surcoat. The surcoat was decorated with a round red shield and on that was the green silhouette of a sword. Fastened to his arm was the real thing.
What is the use of a shield with a big hole in it? Jenny thought but did not ask. The knightly clothes made him appear taller and broader. He seemed less the scholar and more the warrior until she looked into his eyes. They were still soft and gentle.
“I like your new clothes.”
He did not answer.
“Softy, are you all right?”
“Yes, I am sorry, I did not mean to worry you. It’s just, it’s just…” He trailed off. “It’s just you look so beautiful,” he gasped out, his eyes going huge.
He rushed over to her and before she knew it she was in his arms. He pressed his rough warm lips against hers. At first she was too startled to react, then she gave in to what she had known for a long time but had not wanted to admit to herself. She pushed her mouth against his. Their mouths opened and their tongues darted and entwined with one another. His tongue was, unsurprisingly, rough, but despite that, in fact because of that, it felt and tasted amazing. His mouth tasted of strawberries and mint. As they kissed it felt like time stopped. She could feel his kiss and tight embrace and her pulse pounded in her ears. Their kiss seemed to last forever and ever and not long enough. Then Softy let go and stepped back, his flesh darkening with that blush she was coming to love.
“I am sorry, I could not help myself. If, if you, you do not feel anything towards me I will understand,” he said choking on the words.
Jenny reached out and placed her hand over his. “To be honest, I do not know how I feel. I do like you, do not doubt that, but whether I love you I do not know. So much has happened to me over the last few days that I am not sure I know who I am or what I feel. If we survive all this then we will have to sit down and sort it. I am sorry, but I do not know what else to say or do,” she said squeezing his hand.
To her surprise he smiled. “That’s more than I hoped for.”
There came a
cough from the door. They whirled guiltily to see the dwarf Shall standing there. They had not heard her approach. How long had she been standing there, what had she seen? Did it matter?
“The Winter Court awaits you, it’s not good to keep it waiting,” she proclaimed in a deep sonorous voice.
The Winter Court
Jenny and Softy stepped into a dark corridor where Dawn and Gentle were waiting. Dawn was dressed in a white fur knee length tunic and knee high boots. Gentle was wearing a white loincloth and short cloak that was pulled tight over his shoulders and hung half way down his back. It seemed to accentuate rather than cover his bare chest. Jenny did not know how, but somehow he had lost the gut.
They gave them quick nods and fell in behind them.
Shall led them down a long dark corridor. The only light was a ball of cold blue light that popped into existence when Shall clicked her fingers. It blazed in her palm for a moment, then it floated up to shine above their heads like a tiny moon. The walls, floor and ceiling must have been made of crystal or probably ice, for they reflected back the ghost light countless times.
They approached a pair of huge doors, carved with a massive tree made up of planets and stars. Curled around it was a huge white dragon and standing either side of it were two of the biggest trolls Jenny had yet seen. They must have been nine feet tall and probably just as wide through the shoulders. Their arms, as wide as stone pillars and just as hard with muscles, dangled to the ground. Their white pelts were so white they shone in the dim light.
“Step forward, place your hand upon the doors and state your reason for being here,” whispered Softy, his hot breath tickling her ear.
Feeling very nervous and not knowing whether it was because of her pilgrimage or because of the intimidating snow trolls she approached the doors and placed both hands on them. They were hard, they felt more like stone than wood, and were cold, so cold she could feel her hands slowly freezing. She wanted to pull her hands away but she felt in the depths of her soul that if she did she would lose Peter for certain.
“I am Jenny Charity. I have come here to request that the Winter Court give me back my brother.” Not knowing why she did so she whispered it into the wood of the door.
The doors slowly and silently swung open. Jenny pulled her hands free from the cold door and looked down at them, expecting to see them bloody, her skin frozen to the doors, but they seemed fine. Standing there, illuminated by an unseen light source was a very strange figure. It was tall and thin, dressed in a monk like robe decorated with many faces in many colours. He was juggling with what looked like shrunken heads.
“Jenny Charity and her party have come seeking the graciousness and merciful bounty of the Winter Court,” cried the heads, all speaking at the same time.
As Jenny watched open mouthed the figure removed the head it was wearing and placed another head on its neck.
The King and Queen
“Let her and her party approach,” came a deep rumbling voice. It seemed as if the ground was speaking.
The figure ushered them forward into the room.
They entered a huge ice cave. Ice blue torches flickered on the walls. As in the corridor, the walls reflected these lights. Out of the corner of her eyes Jenny could sense figures moving in the shadows. Despite staring directly into the shadows she could still not make out what was lurking there.
Softy gently nudged her in the ribs. “Keep moving, the king and queen do not like to be kept waiting.”
Jenny looked forward. The first thing she noticed was a huge crystal stalagmite that ran from the floor to the ceiling and dominated the room. Then she became aware of the truly dominating presences. At the end of the room was a platform and on this sat two enormous ice thrones. The biggest pair of cats Jenny had ever seen were lying in front of them. They were white tigers that had the bulk of polar bears but retained the grace of cats.
“Greetings, man child. We understand you wish a boon from us,” said the male tiger.
“I have come to ask the king and queen of the Winter Court to please let my brother go.”
“You are speaking to the king and queen of the Winter Court,” rumbled the tiger.
“I am sorry, I, I…”
“You expected us to be humanoid,” said the tigress, a growl in her voice, her claws slowly extending.
Good god, they were longer than Jenny’s forearm. “Yes, I was, please forgive my ignorance of your world.” This is not going well.
“What makes you think we have this brother of yours? What would we want with a smelly, noisy human brat?” asked the king.
“I was told that you were holding him.”
“Who told you?”
“Softy had a vision and White explained that it meant you were holding Peter so that you would force White to come back to your side or something.” Jenny was beginning to babble. She could not help it. These beings were intimidating the hell out of her.
“Who is this Softy?” asked the king.
“Me, your Grace, Sarcras Ooffoo Farraf Tarrat Yeggey of clan Wood, your Graces,” whispered Softy, his eyes on the floor.
“Did you have this vision the human child speaks of?”
“Yes, your Graces.”
“She said that someone called White explained what the vision meant. Who is this White?”
“White is one of the many names the ambassador used in the human world, your Graces.”
“So you know the ambassador.”
“Yes, he was my friend,” yelled Jenny who felt that the cats were ignoring her.
“Was? What do you mean was?” asked the tigress sharply.
“He was killed by the wild hunt.”
“Then you have nothing to bargain with, do you?” asked the tiger.
A movement caught the corner of Jenny’s eye. She turned to see what it was. The column had been translucent, the deep blue of ice, but now it was changing, darkening, becoming transparent. Jenny found herself looking into a dark room lit only by low lights being given off by luminescent mosses.
“Peter!” Jenny cried in delight. He was dressed in trousers, coat, boots, gloves, and a cloak of thick white fur. They were fastened with bone buttons decorated to look like snowflakes except for the cloak which was fastened with a large bone broach bearing the naked tree emblem. He looked happy. He was playing with what looked like human children but were probably fey children.
As Jenny watched an impenetrable darkness slid up the window-stalagmite like tar. Out of this tar stepped the black monster from Jenny’s nightmare.
“She has nothing to bargain with. You said it yourselves, your Graces. The ambassador is no more so the bait no longer matters. As your ever faithful servant and the one who brought you the boy I humbly request that you give me the boy to do with as I wish,” he hissed in oozing words. A long tongue licked across its fangs in a way that made Jenny shudder.
For once she wished she knew how to summon the swords like she had done in the fey market, but despite her unspoken urgings and raking her memory to try to remember the words she had spoken to make them appear nothing happened. Then she remembered what White had written to her.
“I do have something to trade,” she called out.
“Oh yes, and what is that?”
She slowly reached into her cloak and drew out the knife.
“That is what you offer in trade? We have an entire hall full of knives and daggers. Perhaps we should let your pretty flesh sample some of them?” hissed the queen.
If Jenny had thought about it she would have known she did not have the strength to break it, but she did not think about it. She took the dagger in both hands and with a strength she should not have she broke it in half. The crack that came from this came like an explosion. Jenny was driven to her knees and dropped the halves of the thing, holding her hands to her ears.
Swirling out of the dagger’s shards came a deep black fog. It roiled as if moved by a non-existent hurricane and slowly congealed into a solid column, t
hen brightened as if light shone from within. Then as if a curtain was yanked aside they could see inside the darkness which continued to swirl behind a figure. it shifted through images like a shape seen in a fire. For just a moment it took the form of White, who smiled at them, then it became whiter and larger until it was the snow troll that had helped her. Then the dark fog was drawn into the figure until it was as black as the dream monster. It was huge, at least eleven feet tall and broad through the shoulders. Under a thick black scaly hide muscles bulged and rippled. It had only one massive taloned arm, the other nothing but a ragged, scaly stump with a nub of black bone sticking out. It stood there, one moment a shadowy smoky ghost but now more solid than most of the creatures in the Court.
Jenny looked around to see how the rest of the people were dealing with this whatever it was. To her great surprise everyone except the tigers were on their knees, heads bowed in respect. Jenny, not knowing what else to do, knelt as well.
“No, Amazon, please stand. You have nothing to kneel to me about, none of you do.”
Jenny looked up at that. Although there was a sibilant, serpent hiss to its voice and words it was still White’s voice. Now she had heard his voice she realised what had seemed familiar about the snow troll. Just as now, under the monstrous features was White’s face. He smiled at Jenny, doing his best not to show off his very sharp fangs but failing. He must have seen the realisation in her face.
Most of them had risen from their kneeling position but Softy was still kneeling, head bowed. White, or whatever this thing was, reached down and stretched out with its one arm and gently pulled Softy to his feet.
“Me lord Grendel, if I had known I would have treated you with the proper respect,” Softy whispered in awe and fear, eyes still looking at the floor.
Softy the Troll Page 10