Page 41 of Ransomed to the World
An old troll limped out from behind a blanket hanging from a string. Her hair was a solid gray, frizzy with age and drooping. Her skin was a faded green so pale, it barely had any color. Wrinkles lined her body, her skin sagging. Despite her stature, she looked fragile.
Her sharp eyes surveyed Mason, she harrumphed, and then her pale green eyes landed on Annora before narrowing. “He must love you very much.”
Ignoring the way Mason stilled beside her, Annora studied the old crone. “What do you mean?”
“To win the heart of a troll is rare. Trolls often show their prowess by displaying the stone in rings, necklaces, and such. The more the elaborate and expensive the jewelry, the more highly he values you.”
Annora flushed under the woman’s scrutiny and glanced over to see Mason seriously inspecting the different pieces, the short bracer still in one hand, and her heart melted at the dedication and care he invested in selecting just the right piece for her.
When he straightened to his full height, he gave a satisfied nod. He turned toward her and held out his hand. “If you give me the stone, I’ll have it placed in the setting.”
He didn’t demand the stone, still giving her a choice to back out, and she dug it out of her pocket. She ran her thumb over the opal, the colors still swirling like liquid fire inside the black stone, and she couldn’t help wonder why he didn’t tell her sooner. “They call it a heart stone?”
“Only after it has been won.” A proud smile quirked up one corner of his lips. “If the match is denied, the magic in the stone will dull until another challenge is issued, and it will continue until the right match is found. The brighter the stone, the stronger the connection is between the pair.”
Annora glanced down to see the gem shimmering brightly in her palm, and tears burned her eyes.
It was physical proof of his love.
She blinked quickly to banish the tears, then carefully placed the stone in his waiting hand, her chest aching with such vast emotions, she didn’t know what to do with them. He gave her a brilliant smile, then walked toward the end of the table to where a pile of thin metal strips waited. He carefully picked through the strands, selecting the perfect ones. Using his fingers, he began to twist and spin each one around the stone and thread it through the bracer to secure it.
“It’s a labor of love.”
Annora tore her eyes away from Mason and gave the crone a jerky nod.
The old troll gasped. Annora followed her gaze and saw the skeleton bowl in her hand had shifted. The remains of Mason’s shirt that she’d used to keep the stones covered had slipped, revealing the gems.
The crone froze, her shattered expression wrenching at Annora’s heart.
Annora carefully set down the bowl and pulled aside the ragged edges of the shirt. She thought maybe one of the stones had belonged to the old troll or perhaps a loved one. She glanced through the colorful stones, waiting for one to speak to her, but it was a charcoal rock near the bottom that gave a sorrowful, almost discordant hum.
She picked it up, then offered it to the old woman. “I believe this is yours.”
The troll’s head snapped up, and she gaped at Annora in shock, pain and wonder twisting in her eyes. Without saying anything, she reached out and carefully accepted the stone, then clutched it to her chest.
Annora looked away from the jagged emotions that crumpled the crone’s face, and covered the rest of the stones carefully, giving the old troll time to recover.
“Why would you return this to me?” The crone’s voice was sharp, the harsh tone drawing a crowd from those nearby.
Annora frowned, not sure she understood. She glanced at Mason and saw him nod at her before going back to his task. “Because it belongs to you?”
She couldn’t keep the question out of her statement.
“My son.” Instead of being pleased, she inhaled sharply and then looked down her nose at the bowl. “And the remaining stones?”
Annora shrugged one shoulder, shifting uncomfortably when more trolls began to gather. “They’ll be returned to the queen, who I assume will return them to the rightful owners.”
“You would give up that power.” The crone glared at her, rage saturating the air.
Only then did Annora understand. “It’s not my power.” It was as simple as that, but no one seemed convinced. “I have no intention of staying. We’re on the run because I have too much power already. I don’t need to borrow any more trouble. If Mason says trolls are worth a second chance, then I’ll give them a chance…but only because it’s what he wants.”
Mason came to stand behind her, his warmth and the smell of fresh pine soothing her. His big, warm palm came to rest on her shoulder.
Ignoring everyone else, he turned toward the crone and lifted the bracer he created. “How much do I owe you?”
The troll dragged her attention away from Annora, then bowed her head. “Take it with my blessing.”
Without saying more, she shuffled back behind her screen, dismissing them.
