Nemesis and the Troll King (2 page)

“What did he say?” Dylan interrupted.

“He yells at her, saying that she be selfish for not sharing her world with him, tells her she be cruel and heartless.”

Dylan sat forward. “What happened then?”

“Ahh …” sighed Nirb, “no one ever be so unkind to Kaylin. To protect her heart from the horror, she dims her light, freezing her sweet self. And the moment she be frozen they be linked—their life's twines forever joined, if ye will.”

Dylan interrupted Nirb again.

“What do you mean ‘their life's twines joined'?”

“Every life be made with a special purpose, a destiny for that life only. By this act, their purposes now be joined. Only they can save each other.”

“How can the human save her if she's frozen? And what does she need to save him from?” Dylan said, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Nirb.

“Let me be finishing telling ye the story and then ye can ask yer questions,” Nirb said in exasperation.

“Nemesis hears what the mortal be doing, and goes to her. But it be too late to save her, which makes Nemesis angry,
very
angry. Nemesis uses a powerful spell, cursing him into the body of a troll and taking away memory of his human life. If the human be wanting to regain his life, he must be seeking the path of redemption. And this way he be saving the fairy Kaylin.”

“But how can the human redeem himself if he has doesn't remember who he is and what he has done?” frowned Dylan.

“Nemesis be leaving him a clue …” began Nirb. “Nemesis says it be in the new troll name he gives him.”

“What was this name?” Dylan asked.

“Yarg,” Nirb replied.

“Yarg …” Dylan mused. Then stood up abruptly, his face darkening as he towered over Nirb. “Which could be Gray spelt backwards. Are you telling me that the human in your story is my brother? That Gray is a troll?” he asked threateningly.

“I don't know that the human is yer brother,” said Nirb, then stopped as he realised that Dylan was no longer listening to him.

“To hurt a fairy doesn't sound like Gray. Oh, I know he was spoilt, sometimes thoughtless, but he was never intentionally cruel.”

He paused for a long moment, struggling to absorb what Nirb had told him, his face reflecting his anger and disbelief. As Nirb watched, acceptance and then worry took their place.

“… but the other pieces seem to fit, don't they? How is he supposed to correct what he's done if he doesn't know he should?” Dylan asked hoarsely. Dylan raised his hand to his face, noticed that it was shaking badly and lowered it again. “If this troll is my brother then I have to help him.”

Nirb raised one bushy eyebrow and looked at Dylan. “Did ye not hear the part about mortals being forbidden in the immortal realms? Ye cannot help Yarg. Perhaps one day he'll remember enough to help himself.”

“I can't accept that. I must help him—he's my brother, my only brother!”

Nirb shook his head slowly. Somehow this human had managed to be different from all the others who only wanted things for themselves, and Nirb felt rather sad that he was unable to help him.

“I be sorry for ye loss, Dylan,” he said softly as he stood up and stretched. “I be going now,” he said and started to walk back through the trees that edged the lake.

Worried about losing the only link to his brother, Dylan hurried to follow. He pushed through the trees in time to see Nirb bend, saying, “Ahh, here ye be me beauty,” as he picked up a twisted, slightly crooked stick. He tapped it to the ground and muttered beneath his breath in a strange language.

Dylan felt something happening around him. The very atmosphere became charged, and then a rainbow appeared, arcing through the air to touch the earth at Nirb's feet.

Dylan had never seen a rainbow so beautiful—it glowed dazzlingly bright in the night with a thousand shades of intense colour.

Dylan watched, mesmerised, as Nirb stepped into the rainbow's bright sanctuary. Without conscious thought, Dylan jumped into the rainbow just as it was leaving the ground.

Dylan felt lightheaded. The air around him swirled and danced and glowed, reflecting back from the rainbow's vivid walls. He was amazed to find that he felt quite safe even though he had no idea where he was going.

When the rainbow's end came into focus, Dylan found himself standing within a massive clearing surrounded by ancient oak trees that towered high above the ground, their autumn leaves already changing colour. He looked around slowly and spied Nirb standing beside a large mushroom, scowling at him.

“What de ye think ye be doing?” Nirb yelled at him, stamping his foot in agitation.

“My brother deserves to be warned of his fate and his mistakes so that he can correct them. If none of the immortals will warn him, then I will. He is my brother and I can't just leave him like this. Now, will you tell me where I can find him, or will I have to seek him out alone?”

“Don't ye be taking that tone with me, mortal,” Nirb snapped. “Fool human, ye just don't know when to leave well enough alone,” he grumbled.

Dylan glared down at him. “Be that as it may, I intend to save my brother! So will you
please
tell me where I can find him?”

Nirb snorted. Scratching his chin he finally said, “Ye follow that path over there out of this realm, then ye head straight until ye get to a forest. Be careful, the trolls often be thumping and hunting there. Through the forest be the troll's realm. Half a day's journey to the east be Yarg's castle.”

He watched Dylan as he listened to the instructions he'd just given him, “I hope ye will be safe enough, but remember, do not draw attention to yerself until ye reach the castle. Ask to see Yarg, but if the trolls look set to cause ye any trouble, ask that Nemesis be summoned immediately. It will likely be the only thing that will save ye.”

As Nirb finished, Dylan brought his gaze back from the path he was to take and looked at Nirb. He found himself a little reluctant to leave the only familiar thing in this strange place, but he was more anxious to find the brother he had lost so long ago. Thanking Nirb for his help, Dylan set off.

2

Be They Brothers

D
ylan waited in his hiding place beneath the thick lush leaves of a forest fern, trapped by the massive blue trolls that patrolled the pathways before him. He could hear them thumping their clubs through the undergrowth, venting frustration that their quarry eluded them. He sat still, almost not daring to breathe for fear that they would discover him.

Through tiny gaps in his cover, he watched as two of them approached his hiding place, coming so close that he could have reached out and touched them. The breeze carried their smell toward him, the stench almost unbearable.

Rotten … something,
Dylan thought, not quite able to place it. He held his nose, trying desperately not to gag.

The trolls stopped a hand's breadth from him, and rested on their clubs. Dylan's heart was beating so wildly, he was sure they would hear it. He drew in a deep breath and held it. Just when he thought his lungs would burst, they picked up their clubs, and growling snarling, moved past him.

Dylan carefully released his breath and thought back to how he had found himself in this situation.

He was strolling along the forest path thinking about Yarg, trying out in his head the things he wanted to say to him, when a thwacking sound came from nearby. He stopped, looking around for the source of the noise. Several huge trolls lumbered onto the path ahead. Catching sight of him, they bellowed and rushed at him, clubs raised above their heads.

He threw himself into the thick vegetation, just narrowly avoiding being caught. After what seemed an eternity of frantic dodging through the greenery searching for a place to hide, he stumbled upon a small hollow and dived into it, pulling a cover of thick leaves around himself.

Another fat troll moved near and Dylan drew his feet closer to his chest. Two more followed to stand beside each other a mere metre away, their backs to Dylan. They grumbled to themselves, something about not having any fun without something to whack.

Dylan was desperate now; he knew that it would only be a matter of time before they turned around and saw him. He moved his hand slowly through the groundcover around him, searching for something he could use to distract them. His hand found a small stone and closed around it. He threw it as far as he could from the confines of the hollow. The stone clanged loudly against a rock, causing all the trolls to turn towards it.

In a few seconds they had rushed off in the direction of the noise, and in a few more, just long enough for the last to disappear from sight, Dylan was rushing off in the opposite!

Dylan breathed easy for the first time since he had encountered the trolls. Despite the very recent experience, he found it hard to believe that this was really happening. Nirb had tried to explain about the immortal realm, but Dylan could not have imagined anything like this. What added to the unreality was that for the most part the land looked just like the human realm. The valley was lush and filled with different shades and textures of green, birds sang in the trees and insects flitted around. But the familiarity stopped short at huge blue trolls. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought anything like this existed outside storybooks. And he would never have imagined that trolls were blue!

It occurred then to Dylan that his brother would be blue now too. The thought was just too much for him to take.

At least he is still a royal,
Dylan thought with wry humour, and almost laughed aloud at the thought of how much he would tease his brother if they ever made it out of this.

Coming out of his reverie, Dylan eased out from his hiding place to see what the trolls were up to, and came face to face with a portly troll whose great bulk seemingly explained why he trailed so far behind the others.

Before Dylan could escape, the laggardly troll grabbed him and lifted him high above the ground. Exhilarated by his catch, the troll began to shake Dylan like a rag doll, all the while grunting excitedly to his friends how brave he was to have captured the intruder.

He is incredibly strong,
Dylan thought, and his heart scrambled around rapidly in his chest as he realised that it was not going to be an easy matter to escape.

As the troll finally slowed and stopped the shaking, Dylan, who had only been able to see the troll's fat face below him, was able to get a look at the rest of the creature. He was of medium height and a stronger blue than the other trolls Dylan had seen. He was filthy—his body covered with caked mud and smudges of grime, his hair a thick mat of dirty brown streaks that resembled a mass of rat's tails clumped together.

His chest was bare, but he wore holey and rough-patched pants that reached his knobbly knees. His hands were thick and stubby, with pudgy fingers that would usually grasp the roughly-made club he had dropped to grab Dylan.

The other trolls had now reached their fellow and began adding their growls to his. An angry glare crossed the portly troll's face, and he began to grunt agitatedly at the others, who were only too eager to return the favour. Dylan did not want to imagine what they were arguing about, nor did he think being the subject of their disagreement would prove to be healthy. It was time for him to do something about this!

Having no experience at all with magical beings, Dylan drew on the qualities that had been drummed into him by his parents from the time he could walk—a healthy dose of confidence mixed with an air of authority.

He took a deep breath and said, in the most commanding tone he could muster from his position above the troll's head, “I want to speak to your king!”

The trolls stopped their squabbling. All eyes turned to Dylan. The portly troll gave him a savage shake for extra measure, but stopped when the largest troll made a grunting noise.

“I said, I want to speak to your king!” Dylan repeated, his voice gaining confidence.

The leader made another grunting sound, and gestured down the path in the direction that Dylan had been travelling. Perhaps there was hope after all, Dylan thought.

Dylan's newfound optimism took a bit of a setback when the portly troll shook his head and grabbed Dylan tighter, but after an angry tirade from the largest troll, the troop began to move off.

The portly troll flung Dylan over his shoulder and set off after them. Dylan's head was now reaching down the troll's back and his legs were flopping over the troll's huge jelly-belly. Dylan was not happy at these turn of events: not only was this position very uncomfortable, but the odour from the troll was now overpowering.

But Dylan soon found that things could be worse. He was jostled from side to side with each of the troll's wide and lumbering steps, and continually poked and prodded as if the troll needed to reassure himself that Dylan was still there. Looking down as he was forced to do, Dylan could see that the growth surrounding the trolls was crushed from where their clubs had clobbered and bashed and their big feet had trampled the lushness right into the ground.

They walked for what seemed ages. When they finally stopped, Dylan could see that they were in the courtyard of an old, dilapidated castle. From the filth encrusting it, Dylan guessed that this was what the trolls called home. Without warning, the portly troll dropped him onto the cobblestones. Dylan tried instinctively to brace himself, but it was no use, he smacked the ground with a loud thud.

“Owwww,” he muttered as he turned his sore head, the better to view the trolls who were beginning to form a circle around him.

The trolls grinned wickedly down at him. They lifted their clubs one after another in a great sweeping wave and then brought them down to the ground in a fluid motion. The noise was dreadful.

Dylan strove not to panic. He had told Nirb that he wasn't afraid to save his brother, but in all fairness, that was before he'd been surrounded by trolls that were so much bigger and more ferocious than he was. Scrambling to stand, he shouted to be heard above the din.

“I demand to speak to your king.
NOW
!”

The trolls stopped almost instantly. Dylan would have found the surprise on their faces quite comical had his situation not been so dangerous. One of the trolls turned and disappeared into the castle. Dylan hoped that it was to search out the king.

The trolls, having reached the limit of their short concentration span, became restless and started to play. They shoved and pushed and jumped on top of one another, their prisoner all but forgotten. Watching them, Dylan wondered if they were truly as dangerous as they seemed. Maybe their size and their clubs cloaked them with that air of menace. He was still considering this when he noticed a huge blue troll leaning against the side of the castle's entrance, watching him.

Dylan's tongue suddenly felt rather thick, and he struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat. He knew without doubt that this was Yarg. He was impressive, arresting, every bit a king. Dylan looked more closely, noticing many differences between him and his subjects.

Yarg was solidly built, as they were, but his coverage was muscular, his belly flat. His pants were somehow neater, although it was obvious that they had been repeatedly patched. His brown hair showed that he had made some attempt to keep it in order. His very stance conveyed intelligence, which even the kindest could not say of the trolls cavorting around the courtyard, and far from being restless, his strong arms were crossed across his chest as if he had all the time in the world.

Just as Dylan noted this, Yarg pushed himself away from the wall and began to walk towards them. The trolls, noticing their king in their presence, stopped playing and turned towards him in a gesture of respect.

As Yarg walked, he took in the human's appearance. His first thought was that this human seemed familiar to him somehow, although he was positive that they had never met. Stopping in front of the captive, Yarg tilted his head to one side and asked, “What is a mortal doing deep within the forbidden realms?”

Dylan blinked as he looked into Yarg's eyes.

“My brother is trapped here and I seek to free him,” he replied.

Yarg burst out laughing.

“A mortal trapped within the forbidden realms? Nonsense! We would have heard of such a thing.”

Dylan growled. “I assure you I am not jesting,” he said.

“Alright, let us for the moment assume that what you say is true. Why did you ask to be brought to me?” asked the troll.

“Is there perhaps some place that we might speak privately?” Dylan responded, looking pointedly towards the castle.

Yarg stared hard at the human in front of him, then abruptly turned and began to walk back towards the castle. He sent a single glance back over his shoulder, his piercing gaze conveying the unmistakable message that Dylan should follow him.

Dylan breathed a sigh of relief and began to trail Yarg to the castle.

The castle was not at all what Dylan thought a castle should be. The large hall they entered was crude and dark and mouldy, with a rotten stench lingering in the air. Huge cobwebs stretched from high beams to the ground, and there was rubble, dust and debris piled in the corners and covering the floor. It was very obvious that his brother did not have a housekeeper!

Yarg crossed the hall to sit down on his throne, which was half-broken away, the corner edges missing at the back. He could see that the human did not altogether approve of what he saw. Humans, he'd heard, were supposed to be very clean creatures, with no appreciation for the finer art of just living as one wanted to. Yarg gestured for Dylan to sit on a crudely shaped slab of stone that faced the throne. Dylan looked at it consideringly, and was taking his handkerchief from his pocket to remove the excess dust when Yarg demanded, “So, mortal, I ask again, what is it that you want from me?”

Using the handkerchief as a stalling ruse, Dylan wiped the slab with painful slowness. The moment he had worked towards was at hand, and yet he found that his mind was having trouble deciding how to say what needed to be said.

Yarg cleared his throat with impatience and Dylan realised he could delay no longer.

Shaking his head, he looked at his brother and said softly, “My name is Dylan James. Do you recognise it, or perhaps my face?”

“Should I?” asked Yarg, an edge to his voice.

Frustrated, Dylan tried another approach.

“Would you tell me your name?”

“My name is Yarg. I am the King of the Trolls. But I think that you already know that, since you asked to see me.”

Dylan closed his eyes for a moment. His brother might be a troll but he hadn't lost any of his wits. As far as Dylan could see, there was only one way to move forward with this now.

“Yarg, I'm going to tell you something. I think that you might not believe it, but it is the truth. You are my missing brother. You are a mortal trapped in the body of a troll.”

Yarg burst out laughing. He laughed so loud and so hard that he doubled over and tears poured down his cheeks. The other trolls in the hall joined their king's laughter, and when several more entered to see what the noise was all about, they too began to laugh.

Yarg finally stopped laughing long enough to say in a wheezy breath, “No one ever mentioned how funny mortals could be.”

An angry Dylan snarled at him, “I assure you that I am not joking.”

At last, having realised that the mortal was actually serious, Yarg said, “What in troll's tarnation makes you think that I could be your brother?”

Dylan raised his brows. Apparently his brother had picked up a few choice words along the way.

“Three years ago, my brother, Prince Joshua Gray …” Dylan stared pointedly at Yarg before continuing, “left our castle to attend to some family business. He didn't come home. We couldn't find any trace of him, even though we searched every possible avenue. We had all but given up hope that we would find him alive …”