Page 29 of The Lost Fae
"More like entertainment."
As long as it isn't singing then we'll probably be good. I had the voice of an old spinster woman when I tried to sing. Not pretty. Very embarrassing.
"They may see the queen if they answer our riddles." They speak again and I fight the need to roll my eyes at them. "We will ask you three riddles, and if you can guess them correctly you may be on your way."
"Pathetic excuse for guards," Beatrice sneers under her breath.
The trolls turn to look at her and offer her a dark smile. "Your crew may not help them. They alone must answer the questions, or I'm afraid you've traveled all this way for nothing. Access will not be granted if they cannot solve these."
"Well, out with them then." I throw my hands up in the air, letting them clap against my thighs when they come back down. Lincoln sighs dramatically, mirroring my own impatience.
Their heads swivel back toward us. The circle of their carved pupils grows and contracts almost mechanically as they stare us down.
“Wetter and wetter but faller and faller. Go away, go away. And yet, I think I’ll stay. What am I?”
What. The. Fuck?
That’s a riddle?
Those are just words. Random fucking words.
Read their minds.
What?I balk totally forgetting for the moment that I'm not just plain human anymore.
Dive into one of their heads and the answer will be there. Trolls are one of the lowest born species. Their minds are easy to tap into. I know you can do it,he encourages.
I brush away the hair that the wind blows into my face and square my hips as I look at them. Stretching the muscle that remains madly sore from the last use. I reach for the troll nearest to my mind. There isn't a wall or anything else there for me to knock on or knock down, even. No. I just waltz right into their thoughts as if they are already my own.
Rain. Rain. Rain.Their thoughts chant. I hardly weigh the options before I can feel the force of the truth behind the thought and blurt the word out loud.
“Rain,” I say, then press my lips together and pray.
They both blink.
"Very good. On to the next," one starts.
The other offers the next riddle. “What goes up, up, up and brings us down, down, down into the ground.”
At least that somewhat sounds rational.
“Aging,” I say quickly before realizing how morbid that truly is. Lincoln shuffles beside me.
Don't say it too fast or they'll make you answer more just to challenge your intelligence.Lincoln scolds.
My fault. Must be a rookie mistake. I've never dealt with trolls before. This is like some god awful cartoon come to life, it hardly feels real.
"Thank you," they say together and give a nod. "That is correct."
"Try another,'' The troll on my left says. I swivel to give it my entire attention. “I have a face, two hands, and never miss a meal.”
This guy, Lincoln answers so sarcastically within my mind that I have to close my eyes slowly not to roll them right in his face.
Seriously?
His rumble of laughter echoes through my thoughts before he says,Just trying to give you pause to really make it seem like you’re thinking these things through.
And to annoy you just slightly.
