Troll Or Derby, A Fairy Wicked Tale (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Down in the Dumps

Deb

The sandwiches he brought back were good—just not what I’d expected.

“You thought I was going to drag in a billy goat, didn’t you?”

“Or a kid,” I said.

He stared at me a long moment. “You mean a child? Or a goat kid?” The corners of his eyes crinkled. Laugh lines. I was safe.

I shrugged. “Either one.” I took a big bite of the meatball sub he’d given me. After a minute, I added, “You know—whatever’s available, right?”

He laughed. “Right. Whereas the sub shop is only ten miles down the road …”

We both laughed. He passed me a two-liter of Big Red and a plastic cup that spelled out the IU basketball season from the previous year, in faded red letters. I had the same cup at home. Home.

“Will I ever be able to go home?” I asked.

Harlow’s smile slipped down the hard lines of his face. “Do you really want to?” he said. “You’re safe here. I mean, I know my place is a little small, and it could probably be cleaned up a little, but from what I’ve heard about your mother …”

“What have you heard?” I stood up. “Have you heard anything about Gennifer?” I scanned the room for my shoes.

Harlow put his sandwich down and stood up himself. “You deserve some answers. I’ll tell you everything I know—but, please, Deb, you’ve got to sit down, eat something, get some rest. You can’t pass out from exhaustion or blood loss every night of your life—not if you want to live to see your sixteenth birthday.”

There was something about his tone, the look on his face, the sympathetic tilt of his head—I trusted him. I truly did.

“Why do I trust you? I don’t even know you. Is it a spell?”

He laughed. “So you do trust me? Well, that’s a start.” He took a big bite of his third sandwich and sat back down on the desk where he’d been perched above me and my pallet. “The thing is, Deb, there’s a lot to tell. Lots. And I won’t be able to get through it all if you ask a lot of questions—but I promise I’ll tell you everything I know, and I’ll help you find out the rest, no matter what.”

“But? Isn’t there a catch?”

He laughed. “Smart girl. With a troll, there’s always a catch. Rule number one. Remember that.” He sipped a drink, so tiny in his hulking hands, then looked around the mansa. “Enough of that, though—you’re pretty well caught as it is, I’d say.”

I smirked. The bed was so soft, though, and now that my belly was full, I felt so tired again—but I wasn’t going to sleep without some answers.

“I really do want to find my sister as soon as I can,” I said. I lay down on the bed and gave in to the comfort of soft blankets around me. Sometimes in the middle of the night, Mom would drink too much and throw up on her blanket, and then she’d take mine. I used to climb into my sister’s bed to keep warm, but I stopped when we weren’t little anymore.

I stretched out on the pallet and yawned.
I could get used to this.
Harlow’s gruff, quiet voice almost didn’t break me out of my doze.

“I’ll help you find Gennifer,” he said. “It won’t be easy, but I think we can liberate her from McJagger if we approach it the right way.”

“McJagger!? That black hole has my sister?” I sat up, cold and feeling a little sick.

Harlow dropped to his knees before me on the floor. He held me gently by the shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes. “Trust me, Deb. Slow down. You have to trust me, or we’re never going to get anywhere.”

I nodded, but I was really tiring of this. I mean, he was a troll, for Pete’s sake! Part of my mind was screaming that he was probably going to eat me, eventually. The other part actually did trust him. I wasn’t sure which side was winning.

“Start talking,” I said.

He laughed. “Bossy, bossy. You know, I’m breaking a lot of rules by having you here.”

“Start with ‘here.’ Where are we, exactly? Then tell me about these rules. Whose rules?”

Harlow stood up and walked slowly around the room. “This,” he said, opening his arms wide, “is my mansa, my mound. My home.”

“Are we underground?” I wondered why it was such a sunny place.

“We are. I put a lot of skylights in, though.” He pointed to the circular ceiling, where mismatched windows hung. “Never was a fan of dark, cold places. We’re all going to end up underground, eventually, right? I’m not in a rush for the darkness.”

“Are we very far from … the Fog?”

“Far enough, yeah. They couldn’t follow us even if we were right next door. When you took the vow with me, you sealed yourself away from any harm at their hands. Only your own people can hurt you, while I live and walk by your side.”

“God, you make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Harlow looked chagrined, but said nothing.

“But that’s impossible, right? I mean—thanks for saving me and all, but I don’t want to marry you.”

Again, he was silent.

“Harlow, come on … I can’t be married to a troll. I’m a human!” I wanted to grab my skates and make a break for the door, but I knew I was never going to find the answers to my many, many questions if I didn’t hear him out. I sat cross-legged on my bed and waited. Something deep within me knew what he was going to say next.

“You’re not as human as you might think, Roller Deb.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, many reasons, really. For starters, how about the glamour you were wearing at the High School Homecoming thing? Cowboy boots? Really.”

“I, uh …” I wasn’t sure what to say. How did he know I’d imagined myself in cowboy boots?

“The Coach told me all about it. You know, I know you had a head wound and everything, but, really. That’s just not your style, is it? I heard the belt buckle was amazing.”

“How do you know the Coach?” I instantly knew the answer, before Harlow could say it. “He’s a troll, too, isn’t he?”

“He is. He’s been watching you for years. Longer than me, actually.”

“Exactly how long have you been stalking me, then?”

“Stalking’s a strong word, Deb.” He rubbed his beard, deep in thought. “Geez, I don’t know how to explain this, exactly. You still feel like getting out of here?”

“Forever?” The look on his face told me I said it a little too eagerly.

“No, not forever—just for a field trip. There’s someone you need to meet.” He handed me my shoes. “No need to take your backpack with you,” he said. “It’ll only slow you down.”

“But my skates,” I said.

“I know, I know,” he said. “But where we’re going, the last thing you want to be seen doing is skating.”

He held open the door flap of the mansa. Fading sunlight glowed pink and orange outside. “Magic hour,” he said. “Best time for travel, anyway.”

I put on my shoes and joined him at the door. “After you,” he said.

The smell of curdled garbage hit me like a tsunami. “Your place is a dump,” I said.

“
In
a dump, my dear. In a dump. And the proper term is ‘landfill,’ these days.” A discarded refrigerator lay on its side, nearby. Harlow opened the door and gestured for me to get in.

“You’ll fall for a minute, but you won’t land hard,” he said.

I stared into the fridge—despite the light of the sunset, the inside was black and foggy, like looking down a well filled with smoke. I started to ask Harlow how exactly I was supposed to get into the thing, when he pushed me.

I fell headfirst through the black fog—and for the second time on this journey, I did so fully awake.

Chapter 14.5

The Way We Were

Harlow

So far she was taking it as well as I’d expected, if not better. She hadn’t bolted yet, although I could see it in her eyes—she wanted to. The way she hungered to save her sister felt familiar. Was it possible that she was pledged as her sister’s Protector, the way I was hers?

The memories crowded and mingled in my mind, catching up with themselves like old friends at a loud party. I wanted to shake my brain and scream “Wake up!” to the part of my psyche that someone had stolen from me. Now that it was back, I needed to remember it all—fast—so I could figure out what to do before it was too late.

A few things were very clear to me:

1. I was Deb’s Protector

2. We were now married

3. All of this was as prophesied

4. Deb is a full-blown fairy

5. She isn’t aware of any of this

The nervousness over what Zelda would say next made me sicker than the ride down the Fridgerator Shoot. It’s the reason people stay away from her, you know? Nobody wants to hear that he’s going to die, or that his brother will turn on him—my Dad sure didn’t.

And there it was. A memory.

My mother and father, and me. Mannox and Marnie Wheeler, and their baby. I was so young, I didn’t have my tusks yet. Just flowing golden hair, fine as any baby’s. Where were we? The Wheeler’s home?

And the Wheeler baby—Debra—so tiny and willowy, she’d looked underfed by human standards. Her mother held her in one arm, and with her free hand, she lifted me up. She was so strong, and so stark. Her skin was as white as bone, her hair an ebony fountain of sheen. She smiled, and her ruby lips parted, dazzling pearlescent pointed teeth in what I’m sure would have been a menacing smile to anyone unaccustomed to the look of the fae.

How could I ever have forgotten? She spread her black leathery wings wide, and wrapped them around us. Her husband Mannox spread his, and encircled her, with Baby Debra and me in the center, like the heart of an artichoke. There was chanting—my parents’ voices pierced my heart, as if this memory had been bottled fresh just yesterday, opened today, exploding everywhere inside me. The smell of incense, a pinprick of blood, the baby’s tears—and then all was a cascade of laughter, warm sunlight, and there was so much flying!

Mannox Wheeler held me against his chest, his powerful wings lifting us above the small town below. I could see our house—not a mansa, but a real house—from these heights. I could see the Wheelers. I could see the vegetable garden that Marnie and Mom had put out, the magical haze of their special herbs rippling in the summer breeze.

And then the baby. We were on the ground in an instant, the moment I’d seen her. I was little—far too little—but I’d have dropped like a stone from any height to be by her side. I must have tried, because Mannox panted behind me as I clung to Marnie’s knee, reaching for my Debra.

“She’ll never know any different,” my mother said, her good-natured husky laugh like the sound of water rushing over stones. “Wherever she goes, Harlow will be right there.”

And then there was the black fog. A bony black hand reaching out to grab my neck.

And that’s the last thing I remember from that day.

Chapter Fifteen

Troll Market

Deb

I landed on my seat, bouncing a little on the wet grass. Harlow was about five seconds behind me, landing in a crouch and springing upright, instantly.

He held his hand down to me, and I grasped it. “It gets easier with practice,” he said.

“I don’t ever want to do that again,” I said. I looked around automatically for my backpack, to collect it. Back at the ranch.