~

Chapter Seven

~

I didn’t want to tell Zia goodnight. As though entrapped in her aura. Maybe she’s a witch. Beguiled me. I hadn’t said much all evenin’. So why did she continue to share that soft, lovely smile my way?

She loved to bat those lashes. Because I helped the hens clean up the kitchen when the dinin’ room lights were clicked off? Amazin’ my body hadn’t begun shakin’, from bein’ away from a computer for hours.

Definitely bewitched. I did feel a vibration of majic ’cross my body.

Zia was speakin’ about the history of the dorm, the various folk who had made it home for several hundred seasons. The handy little features the dwarf and troll builders inserted into the place, and the inn, those generations ago, long before similar adaptations began to be used in construction anywhere else in the world.

Yeah, yeah, dwarfs and trolls, geniuses. I set my hand to the ancient jamb of her door, a message to her that I recognized the buildin’ is special.

“Ya sure ya don’t want a nice suite in the inn?” Zia asked.

Hadn’t we settled that an hour ago? I shook my head. Pretty much all I had done since I met her was nod and shake. Don’t know why I’m not just walkin’ home. As though Nuel would get lost without me nearby. Though I didn’t mind throwin’ sheets over a bed and usin’ the communal bathroom of the dorm.

“Yar friend Jam was very quiet this evenin’. Clearly ya’re close though.”

Because he’s sharin’ a room with me? Hadn’t we explained he’s my bodyguard? But then, how many words blubbered across my lips the last five hours? Zip. Should I be embarrassed?

If I start talkin’ she’ll catch on to me. For now, I didn’t want that. Though I don’t know why. The witchery. It had to be. She had to be after somethin’. Ma told all of us we had to be careful about folk that treat ya too nice.

But then, Mama also thought our mail carrier colluded with the secret police. That the only reason we survived the winters here was the threads of ethereal still connected to the Lake. She claimed a ley line traversed the Lake.

“So, I won’t see ya in the mornin’ huh.”

Nuel planned for us headin’ out an hour before sunrise. Hadn’t I been the one drivin’ this troll adventure? Suddenly Nuel’s my boss. Explainin’ my duty and responsibility. She’s one headstrong, self-important hen. No wonder Ike hasn’t settled in, admittin’ her to be more than just a friend. Peer. Employee.

Argh, she’s one pushy hen.

Opinionated, even for an ogre. And folk hate me ’cause I don’t like to talk.

“Nice—meetin’—ya,” I stammered. Like an idjit.

“He speaks.” Her laugh rang as deep as ya’d expect from a troll. Not gravelly though. Not as reserved as the average troll hen. Not annoyin’ like an ogre hen, gushin’ sarcasm, their super power. Pleasantly just right.

I peered over my shoulder at Jam twenty feet away, leanin’ against the door jamb of our room. What was he findin’ so interestin’? The bull twisted and disappeared inside. He can be awfully irritatin’. Luckily he isn’t headin’ out with us in the mornin’.

“Enjoyed yar company this evenin’,” Zia said, which struck me with a chill and an accompanyin’ shiver. She asked if I was cold. I shook my head quickly. Cold? That would come ’cross as not very ogerly, wouldn’t it?

“Ya—know. I—live. Just—over. On Elm?” I tossed a thumb kind of westerly.

“Elm Trail? Really? Ya just movin’ to the hamlet? We should get to see each other often then.”

“Born—here,” I admitted.

She scrunched up her beautifully thick brows. Cute how the ends arched downward.

“I’m—kind—of—not—one—to get out—much.” Took a long time to say that. I sound like such an idjit. How can I shift our future conversations to textin’? Might we have future conversations? That wouldn’t be so bad. It might be nice to have a friend. Even if she’s a witch.

Be my first friend. That isn’t a cousin. If I have any cousin-friends.

There’s Ezra.

Would it look awkward, a bull-hen ogre-troll friendship? Folk might not understand. Get the wrong idea. But not like I care what folk think. Never have, much. Don’t care, much, that she stands a good two heads and a half taller than me.

In all honesty, I’ve been so wrapped around my anger all my life, bein’ different. Never, ever contemplated, meetin’ someone I’d want to chat with.

“Yar expressions share a minglin’ more thoughts than yar lips,” she said. “Yar eyes twistin’, cheeks pinchin’. Ya’re a cute little ogre.”

“Little?” She had to point it out? I immediately regretted my idjit screech. One word. A couple syllables. But truly, I didn’t care she admitted I’m a munchkin of an ogre. After all, she’s a bit on the diminutive side, for a troll. Still, my entire body flamed, cascaded over embers and coals.

“Emotion.” She laughed, that deep, sonorous tone dashin’ me with well water. “Ya can generate an immediate answer after all, without mewin’ it over like a tasty steak.”

Wasn’t sure what she implied. But the statement reminded me I hadn’t eaten in a few hours.

“I tease,” she said. “Wondered if I could rile an honest response out of ya.”

“Rile?”

“It’s true I’ve monopolized the evenin’ with my stories. My ma says I’m too interested in talkin’ about my own self by twice. That I need to learn a bit of quiet will encourage folk to say a few words of their own.”

“I’m—kind of—happy—with ya—managin’ the—conversation.” I struggled in a big way. Worse than usual, pretty sure. Did I inhale a duck? I swallowed hard. Why didn’t I have a bit of spit to ease the effort?

“But,” she hawed slowly, “ya look me up after ya finish seekin’ out the Troll Council, I may be encouraged enough to be patient to hear a thought from ya now and then.” She asked me for my phone, keyed herself into my contacts, then texted herself a smiley face.

Bold in a nice way. Not like Nuel.

So, maybe she enjoys my company? I couldn’t see it. Lava splashed me in the face.

“Oh, that’s so endearin’.”

What? What was she talkin’ about? She reached out that basket of a hand. The back of her long fingers stroked my cheek. I feared she might jerk away, burned to a crisp. But she didn’t.

Oh, her flesh was so soft, warm. The hallway turned dark. Had I passed out?

Oh no.

No. My eyes just rolled into the top of my head. After a moment of caressin’ the fuzz on my cheek, she leaned down deep, a tusk bore into my temple, dragged down to my jaw. My lungs emptied. I might die any moment.

She had to like me. Tusks don’t lie.

~

Nuel

~

Bliar and I conspired for hours with Ike over the phone. Exhaustion wrung me dry. As irritated as I was at the younger bull, I missed he wasn’t walkin’ me to my room, instead of his pa. Bliar’s good company, but ’bout five decades too old for me. And married.

The oldtimer had decided it was too late for the two-hour drive home over a twistin’ road, corners often dusted with snow.

My mind flipped back to Ike. My weak-mind is used to thinkin’ of him as a suitor. My better senses explain the facts of life to me again and again, since that first flick of interest tickled both of us.

Cruelly.

Ike is embroiled in a different life. Ogre Industries—oops, Universe Industries. Universe Ware. The clan. The Range. The Hamlet. There’s no room for a hen in his life. Basketball at the Y is more important to him than any hen.

Wizper and Darshee, for ogres, have been very subtle in the manner they’ve prepared me for this conclusion. My eyes welled a bit. I jerked when Bliar spoke.

“Give ya a knock at five. I won’t be sleepin’ much. Don’t sleep much at home. Never sleep well away.”

I nodded. “Thank ya.”

“Don’t let that troll guide of yars hike ya into bloody mush. Those long legs they got can cross a lot of territory in a short amount of time. Ike’s told me ya also do that silly, human joggin’ thin’, but I guarantee ya that hasn’t prepared ya for the peaks, streams, and gullies ya’ll be crossin’ tomorrow. Take care of yarself.”

Sweet bull.

Shame Ike didn’t wish me anythin’ more than good luck. He cared about my task, not my welfare. Treadin’ into the wilderness to meet folks seems weird.

Hmm.

If no roads, how do trolls get their ore out of the Range? I wasn’t gonna ask out loud. My thoughts may have been spinnin’ a bit. But for a folk that love grubs and scorpions, they have a build and stamina that’s amazin’.

Really bad thought, the grubs and scorpions one, right before goin’ to bed, but I couldn’t help myself. Isn’t that what most everyone thinks about when trolls come to mind? And their toughness. No surprise, even though humans vastly outnumber trolls, they never bested troll kind in a battle durin’ the old wars.

Unless ya read history books written by humans.