Page 3 of Arise the Queen
Fortunately, neither troll appeared to notice Gwendolyn—thanks to her mithril?
In his present form, the Púca was no help at all.
Oblivious to Gwendolyn’s presence, the trolls continued to argue feverishly, but Gwendolyn couldn’t make out a word they spoke until they stopped an arm’s length from where she sat—so close that if the smallest of the two only retreated a long step backward, he would surely meet the edge of her blade.
Breathe, she commanded herself.Breathe!
Swallowing the knot of fear that bobbed into her throat, Gwendolyn fought the most overwhelming urge to bolt, not daring even to draw back her sword, if only to make certain it wasn’t met by a clumsy, oversized troll foot. The last thing she wanted for one of these creatures to do was to trip over the sword.
“Wewants her,” growled the smaller of the two, but then, for all his boldness, he shrank back from his companion’s spittle-filled growl.
Warm slime sprayed Gwendolyn’s cheek, but she daren’t swipe it away, nor even twitch her nose over the terrible smell.Gods.For all that their height had surprised her, they smelled precisely as she’d imagined they should. Never in her life had she smelled the like—except for the one time she and Bryn ferreted away that crate of oysters to the Dragon’s Lair, only to forget about the bloody thing, and return later to find it reeked.These twosmelled likethat.
“Itmyidea to search here,” complained the smaller troll and his companion gave him a long-suffering scowl.
Meanwhile, Gwendolyn weighed her options…
If she rose, slowly… she could back away… find shelter… behind a boulder stone, although there were none in sight so large as to conceal her… none except for the one the Púca was using now.
However, the path between them was narrow, and if Gwendolyn intended to join him on the other side of this grotto,she would have to slip between these trolls, and even as she contemplated that possibility, the larger of the two pounced, and the pair erupted into a blur of limbs, moving quicker than Gwendolyn might have imagined two hairy blobs could move. Hissing, snarling, claws swiping at the air, they sidestepped the sword, and Gwendolyn as well. But they didn’t stop till blood spiced the air, and then the smaller of the two retreated, petting his arm and whimpering. “’Tis true what they say about Yavo—Yavo be selfish!” he complained, and then suddenly, his mood changed, and he emitted what Gwendolyn surmised to be a squeal of delight, forgetting his wound as he lifted a long-clawed finger. “Weknow!” he said gleefully. “Weknow! Rip ’er in twain!” He poked his blood-stained claw at his partner, then turned it to his own breast. “Weget half!” he said, chortling. “Webothget half!”
But for all his enthusiasm, the proposal failed to rouse his companion.
“If we rip the girl in twain, she’ll be dead as your pea-sized brain,” said the larger troll, whom Gwendolyn now presumed must be Yavo. “He said alive, so we take her to Manannán alive!”
Manannán?
Gwendolyn blinked, recognizing the name of the Sea God. Without a doubt, she understood these trolls must be speaking of her, but why should they wish to drag her before Manannán? Confused, she furrowed her brow—no less befuddled for the fact that she somehow understood everything these creatures were saying as well.
“But… the King wants her, too,” maintained the smaller troll. “He will pay!”
“We will take her to Manannán!” growled Yavo. “If you argue, I put my blade in your belly.” To emphasize this threat, he laid a hand over a small, but nasty-looking dirk that lay nestledwithin his belt sheathe, and thereafter, both trolls stood facing one another, neither prepared to capitulate.
For a long while, silence permeated the grotto, punctuated only by the nearby dripping of water from the ceiling.
Drip.
Drop.
Gwendolyn was certain that if these two fought again, she would be caught in the middle. She couldn’t imagine being so fortunate as to escape the fray twice.
Sweat dampened her palms as she cast a prayerful glance at the Púca, who lay still as stone. Only this time, he cracked an eyelid, revealing a shining, black pupil. He said nothing and closed the eye again. Still, there was no mistaking the warning gleam in his eye. Without words, he’d urged Gwendolyn to remain silent, though she hadn’t any need to be warned. With her legs twisted beneath her, she would find Yavo’s dirk in her belly long before she could even think to rise. Better to sit and wait despite fearing the silence would betray the pounding of her heart.
“Understood?” pressed Yavo.
“Understood,” relented the smaller troll. And then, to Gwendolyn’s utmost relief, both creatures left off with the disputation and turned to saunter away, continuing along their journey, with the runty one grumbling behind. “Nothing for Razi! Always, Yavo! Selfish, selfish Yavo!”
He sounded on the verge of tears, and how ludicrous it was that Gwendolyn should feel the least bit for this creature, despite comprehending that the girl he longed to “rip in twain” was Gwendolyn.
Blood and bones.
This must be a dream, she thought—it must be!
A dream would explain so much—for one, that odd, preternatural quality to this air, a cold, damp mist that tickledGwendolyn’s memory even as it tickled her nose.Remember!Málik had begged. But for the life of her, she still hadn’t the first clue what it was she was supposed to recall.
Only to be certain she wasn’t dreaming, Gwendolyn pinched the tender flesh of her inner wrist—hard.Then, again, even harder the second time, gritting her teeth when it brought a sting to her eyes.It did not feel like a dream.
But then she had a brief, hopeful thought.
