by Liam Lawson
“Probably not,” Nymal admitted.
“Then plant your banner and hold your ground,” he said. “Fight with honor.”
Had he really just said that to an elf? His brothers would either be appalled or fall over laughing if they ever found out.
Strangely, it seemed to have the intended effect. Nymal stood a little straighter and gave a jerky nod of her head. “Thank you, Trorm.”
He shrugged, then glanced at the door. “We should leave.”
Nymal stepped back from him. “Okay. But…I need to touch up my makeup first.”
Trorm stared at her.
She blushed. “If I’m going to plant my flag then I’m damn well not going to do it showing the world my tears. And if any cops come in, I’ll inform them that you saved me.” She spun around and disappeared back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Elves, Trorm thought. Would her word actually do any good with the campus police? Where the hells were they anyway?
The door to the bedroom popped back open a few inches. “Don’t leave.”
Trorm crossed his arms. “I’m not going anywhere. But only if you agree to let me take you to a hospital.”
She frowned at him. Pouted really. “Fine. But only if you tell me what it was you needed my help with.”
Before he could agree, the door was pulled closed again. Was that an elf thing, a woman thing, or a Nymal thing? She seemed to have bounced back remarkably quickly from whatever her attacker had done to her. No…no that wasn’t it at all, he realized. Trorm didn’t need his sunglasses to tell him what was going on.
Nymal was a warrior attacked in her own home. Right now, she was putting on her war paint, refusing to show weakness, and leading the charge on a fresh battle. She was renewing herself. It was honorable behavior, if tinged with elven oddity.
He waited several more minutes before she emerged. When she did, he had the paperweight ready. If she wanted to overcome her recent defeat by facing a battle she could win, he would not deny her. “What is this thing?”
She took it from his hands and began examining it. Had he ever really thought that she wasn’t female?
After several moments of turning it over in her hands, Nymal took the horse’s head and twisted it. It popped off with a little hiss.
“What the hells?” Trorm demanded. “You broke it?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Nymal said without looking away from her task. “The paperweight was just a disguising mechanism. It altered the aura of magic of the object inside, concealed its properties, and unless I miss my guess, has some kind of tracer spell worked into it. An intriguing item on its own, I’d say.”
The inside of the paperweight proved hollow and Nymal fished out a large amethyst with runes etched into its numerous facets. “Wow,” she whispered. “Trorm, do you have any idea what this is?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have brought it to you,” he said testily.
She waved a hand. “You didn’t even know this thing was in there. Don’t get mad at me for seeking clarification.”
Trorm took a long, steadying breath. A part of him wanted to like Nymal. Another part of him wanted her to hurry the hells up and tell him what he wanted to know already. “So, what is it?”
“It’s a master summoning crystal,” she said. “A conjurer can use it to summon creatures much more powerful than they usually can. And they can use it as an anchor. That means—”
“I know what an anchor is,” Trorm interrupted. “It’s for permanently binding a summoned creature to our reality.” A conjurer was definitely behind the eldritch slimians that had attacked the Roaring Stag and the party. And Lilian had said they’d been connected to a dark cult she’d been fighting with. Which implied that someone wanted to bring something very big and very bad into the material world and give it permanent residence. “Dammit.”
Chapter Fourteen
The hospital was quick, efficient, and all around painless. Trorm got a few odd looks but the staff were accommodating of Nymal. The Orcwatch app alert had gone off en route to the hospital. They’d been spotted leaving the university but only Trorm had been recognized. According to the app’s users, he now had an elven girlfriend and nobody knew what the frozen hells to make of that.
They actually both had a chuckle over it. Nymal never told him what the doppelganger had done to her and he never asked. If she told the doctors, it was after Trorm left. She did file a report that she had been attacked in her home and that Trorm was a witness. She’d been sure to specify that Trorm had chased the attacker away and done everything reasonably within his power to see to her safety, which was all true. It was strange hearing it described that way though and the looks he got after, according to the sunglasses, were those of admiration. Having an elf speak on your behalf seemed to carry some not inconsiderable weight it seemed.
During the brief time they were separated while Nymal was administered and briefly examined, Trorm called Lilian. The call went to voicemail. He followed that up with a text, then called Winnie. She answered quickly and made a kissing sound. That made him chuckle.
“It’s not safe to be around me right now,” he told her, then explained about the Orcwatch app and how the doppelganger had apparently used it to track him. “You might want to stay away from me for a while.”
“Like, fuck that!” There was a hardness to her voice that he had not expected her to be capable of. He hadn’t realized that bunnies could snarl. “Where are you?”
He told her. “But I’m not going to be here much longer. I’m going to the Madden residence as soon as Nymal’s checked in and the doctors give me the all clear.”
“Then I’ll meet you there,” she said. “Send me the address and let me know when you’re heading that way.”
He did, then texted her a short while later after speaking to the doctor. The man wouldn’t tell him much and Nymal didn’t share a lot either. She seemed like she was expecting him to ask questions and somewhat confused when he didn’t. The way Trorm saw it, she’d been attacked in her own home and that was all the information he needed.
“Thanks for…stuff,” Nymal said when he turned to go.
“You too,” he replied.
“Don’t forget our meeting next week,” she said. “We’re going to crush that spell template assignment.”
Trorm had almost forgotten about that in the wake of everything else going on. He needed to hurry and get this thing with the doppelganger and conjurer sorted so he could get back to his studies, otherwise he was going to flunk out before the semester was out. That was a shame he did not think he could handle.
He tried calling Lilian again on his way to the Madden house and once again got her voice mail.
Winnie was waiting outside the house for him when he walked up. She was dressed in her cheerleader uniform and carrying an impressive looking baseball bat over her shoulder. She grinned at him when he approached and threw herself at him, leaping up to wrap her legs around his torso and capture her lips with his. He put an arm beneath her to hold her up, his other holding onto his staff.
“That’s a traditional lagothrope greeting,” she said when she finally broke the kiss, giving him a wink.
“I think I like your traditions,” he said, then gently set her down. “What’s with the bat?”
“In case there’s not a folding chair nearby.”
Trorm opened his mouth to say something. Realized he had no argument. And closed it.
“So, this is like, where you live, right?” she asked, following him up to the front door, wrapping one of her arms around his and pulling herself close.
“It is,” he told her.
“I kind of expected you to live in some dark and gloomy fortress with lots of spikes and stuff,” she said.
“I’m a foreign exchange student,” he said. “Not a conqueror.”
“But you’d totally take the spikey castle if you could?”
“Definitely,�
�� he said. “There’d be many advantages.”
The door swung open as the approached.
Abigail Madden
Gender: Female
Emotions: CONGUSED. JEALOUS.
Interest Level: 10
Trorm nearly stumbled. Had he misread that interest level? It was as high as Winnie’s. But he and Abigail hadn’t had sex or even gone on a date. Then again, there had definitely been a connection between them that night at the Stag. And she’d been the one to repair his sunglasses and modify them with the Interest Level feature. Why had she done that?
“Hey, Trorm,” she said, a little stiffly. “Who’s your friend?”
“Hi,” Winnie said, hopping free of Trorm’s arm and extending a hand. “I’m Winnie. Like, thank you so much for taking such good care of Trorm. I can totally tell how much he loves living here with you.”
Abigail flushed and adjusted her glasses, then seemed to realize she’d done both and stubbornly shoved her hands down, standing straighter. “Nice to meet you, Winnie. Thanks. Guess it makes sense, a football player and a cheerleader hooking up.” HURT. JEALOUS.
Winnie shrugged. HURT. JEALOUS.
Both of them were hurt and jealous? But they were both smiling. What had he done?
“Why don’t you both come inside,” Abigail said, stepping back into the doorway to allow them through.
“Thanks,” Winnie said.
“Have you heard from Lilian today?” Trorm asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”
HURT. That had apparently been the wrong thing to say. “You and Lilian talk on the phone?”
Winnie gave him an odd look. Then shook her head. “Actually, it’s all about this weird case thing she’s working on. The guys who are like, attacking her with slimy monkey things are totally after Trorm now.”
Abigail did a doubletake. CONFUSED. “What?”
Trorm brought her up to speed. As they spoke, they made their way to the living room. Trisha was back at the Roaring Stag cleaning and getting ready for that night’s fresh wave of customers. When he got to the part about finding the doppelganger’s cellphone, Abigail leaned forward and he didn’t need the sunglasses she’d given him to read her anticipation. “Do you still have it?”
He tossed it to her. “I was hoping you might be able to get it open. It’s the best clue we’ve got so far but it’s password protected.”
She looked down at the phone for a moment, then glanced at Winnie, before looking up to meet Trorm’s eye. She held the phone up. “I unlock this, and I’m a part of whatever it is you two are involved in.” RESOLVED.
Resolved? As in determined? “Very well, I understand.” Trorm held out his hand. “I’ll find someone else.”
She recoiled, clutching the phone to her chest. HURT. He’d said the wrong thing again.
“I’m sorry,” Trorm said. “I seem to have misunderstood. You are telling me this because you do not want to be put in danger.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m telling you this because I’m not letting you two and my sister face this danger without me.”
Trorm found himself leaning back and nodding his head in appreciation. “Respectable. Honorable. Your sister will not like it.”
Abigail snorted. “Please. My sister…Lilian’s great, but she’s not the boss of me. And I can do this better than anyone else you find.”
“Probably,” Trorm agreed. “But if we agree to this…then you follow my lead. I will be the war chief of this battle.” He looked back and forth between her and Winnie. “I’ll have both of your words of honor.”
“Deal,” Abigail said.
Winnie crossed her arms. For a moment he didn’t think she was going to budge. He stared her down. She broke into a grin. “I love it when you do that! Yes, you can totally be my war chief.”
Abigail stood up. “I need to take this to my room. All my stuff’s there.”
A few moments after she left, Winnie climbed into Trorm’s lap. “So…?”
He furrowed his brow. “So, what?”
“SO, have you and she, like, already done it and you didn’t tell me?”
Trorm shook his head. “Nothing like that. I was completely honest with you last night. You are my first sexual partner in several months and my only one in this country.”
She nodded, ears bobbing. “Okay. Good. Cause, like, I’d have been really hurt if you lied to me.”
“I am not that dishonorable,” he said, and couldn’t help a note of a growl from escaping into his voice.
Winnie shivered, then whispered. “I like it when you do that with your voice.” She looked down the hall after Abigail. “That girl’s got it bad for you. I might have some competition.”
“I understand that polygamy is frowned upon in this country,” Trorm said. “I shall endeavor to respect your ways and culture.”
Winnie waved a hand. “No, no, don’t worry about that. She’s just so obviously head-over-heels for you I thought for sure you guys must have already…but you said you didn’t and I believe you because you’re my honorable war chief. Ooh!” Trorm had had an involuntary reaction at those last words and it made Winnie grin, and grind herself against him. “My. Honorable. War. Chief.”
With a great deal of effort, Trorm lifted Winnie from him and sat her down on the seat beside him. “I want you. This is not the place to take you. Later, I will ravish you for that.”
Winnie gave a little shiver, ears quivering. “Promise?”
“My word of honor.”
She bounced in her seat and clapped her hands.
“What’s got you so excited?” Abigail asked as she stepped back into the living room. “Trorm’s promised to ravish my brains out later. I don’t think he’d mind if you want to join in.” She said this like a little girl just given her favorite candies in such abundance that she wants to share with her friends. “You’re very pretty.”
Abigail blushed. EMBARASSED.
“Uh, right. I got the phone unlocked. Here” She handed it over to Trorm.
He started looking through it. It was oddly bereft of helpful information. Nothing but the standard apps. Nothing in the email. None of the numbers programmed in had names attached to them. Had the doppelganger simply memorized them all? That was impressive.
Without considering it further, Trorm selected the number from the most recent incoming call and called back.
Abigail’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Finding out who in the frozen hells our doppelganger has been talking to,” Trorm said.
The phone rang several more times before it was answered and a familiar voice said, “Did you get it?”
Trorm froze. He knew that voice. Knew who the speaker was and hearing him now was like a kick in the gut. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he, of all people, be trying to get the summoning crystal from Trorm? He’d already had easy access to it.
“Hello?” the speaker asked. “You still there? Got a bad connection or something? I told you, you should upgrade to a better fucking phone.”
Trorm bared his teeth. He was standing up. When had he stood up? His free hand flexed, clenching and unclenching. He wanted to commit violence. Savage, brutal violence.
With a snarl he spoke into the phone, voice low and gravelly with barely controlled rage. “Hello, Arlen.”
“Oh, fuck. Hey Trorm. How’s it going?” Arlen “Hellhound” Hunt said. “Guess this is a little awkward, huh?”
Chapter Fifteen
“You,” Trorm growled. “How dare you?”
“Whoah, freshmen,” Arlen said. “So much hostility. Get the fuck off that high horse before I knock you off of it.”
Trorm bared his teeth. His fists shook. This man was supposed to be his ally. His teammate. There had to be an explanation. Something he was missing that in hindsight would seem perfectly obvious and pull it all together. May
be Arlen was working against the cult Lilian had been facing off against and thought he needed the summoning crystal?
“I will when you offer an explanation for your actions,” Trorm said.
“Don’t be a douche, Froggy,” Arlen said. “It sounds like you’re accusing me of something, which we both know you’re not stupid enough to do. Or have you thought that through yet?”
As much as Trorm hated to admit it, Arlen was right. There was a lot to think through. A public or legal accusation would dissolve into a contest of his word against Arlen’s. The phone they’d recovered proved nothing except that the doppelganger had Arlen’s phone number and getting Trorm to steal the paperweight with the crystal inside it in the first place still didn’t make any sense. It had been right there, in Arlen’s father’s home. What had been stopping him from simply taking it if he’d truly thought he needed it.
And Trorm had everything to lose. Arlen was a well-respected champion football player, a student of the arcane academy whose own father was a professor there. Trorm had an app dedicated to tracking his movements to make sure he didn’t commit any spontaneous crimes. Arlen had probably gotten away with plenty of shit that Trorm never would be able to. Accidents and accusations were swept under the rug. The school liked its mascots and its champions. It liked winning. Trorm hadn’t been here long enough to garner any real loyalty from the system.
Apart from that though, there was the team itself. Arlen had their support. Trorm did not. If he did bring an accusation against Arlen, no matter what happened the team would resent him for it. Assuming that he wasn’t simply expelled and deported.
“You betrayed the team,” Trorm said slowly. “You took the initiation ritual and profaned it.”
Arlen blew a raspberry. “Profaned? Dude, it was a fucking prank.”
“One that you made work for you,” Trorm said. “Do Erik and Wilbur know what it is you sent me in there for? Or are they are part of your cult too?”
“You leave them the fuck alone, Froggy,” Arlen said, all trace of geniality gone from his voice. “They’ve got nothing to do with those douchebags.”