Chapter 19
Nineteen
Rose
Rose watched the prince of the trolls climb up the side of the mountain, and she still couldn't quite believe he wasn't an elf. Where the other trolls she had met so far were blocky—more an axe than a sword—this man was a rapier.
He was lean, but still somehow powerful.
His body moved with an ease that was almost sinuous.
Like a big cat. Like he knew how strong he was and how to use those claws on the tips of his fingers if he needed to, and yet it also seemed as though he was very much holding himself back.
It was in the coiled bunching of his muscles as he crested the top of the cliff's edge she stood on, and how he stood there before them, tense and tightly wound.
"My father sent you?" the prince asked.
"King Egil was concerned you would be too easy to pick out on your travels, and considering the state of affairs here, he wanted to make sure his son arrived in one piece.
" Gunnar looked around him to glare at the brightly colored caravan one more time.
"He was correct. The humans would see you coming from a mile away. "
"Perhaps that was part of the point. It is possible to hide in plain sight."
"Or they would find you immediately. If you want to be part of this battle, you certainly can be.
There are no shortages of war bands leaving Trollveggen to fight on our behalf.
" Gunnar looked him up and down, and she swore there was a challenge in his eyes.
Like he wanted to fight this prince just to weigh how much of a burden he would be on this journey.
It was a bad idea. Rose's skin crawled at the thought of standing on this precipice while two men fought in front of her. It was too similar to where she had just been. Too close to the labyrinth.
If she had been able to, she would have slipped away right then and there. Disappeared into the world inside her head without having to worry about what the men were going to do. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway. They were going to do what they wanted, without her intervention.
Unless she could stop them now.
Self-preservation burned inside of her, but the words that came out of her mouth were a croaked, "Where are your tusks?"
Both men in front of her turned to look at her slowly. Neither of them wanted to stop glaring at the other, but apparently her question was just too odd to ignore.
It was the truth, though. He didn’t have any tusks, and he didn’t look like the other trolls.
Up close, the prince was almost painfully pretty.
His face was so well crafted that it looked like it had been carved out of marble.
He had the same larger eyes that Rhydian had, and his elvish ears were long and pointed.
They also moved independently of each other, twitching at every little sound.
His right one was pointed directly at Gunnar.
She wouldn't be surprised if he was keeping track of everything Gunnar was doing just with the direction of that ear.
And then there was his hair. So white it reflected the moonlight.
Little tufts of the same color made up his eyebrows, something Rhydian did not have.
A spiraling fracture spread around his eye.
Like a broken pottery piece of his face, black as night and fissuring through his skin.
It was the only thing that marred his otherworldly features.
But no tusks.
His shapely mouth spread into a soft smile, and she could see that while he didn’t have normal troll teeth, he did have fangs.
"I am not like the other trolls," he replied. "My father has made me into a beast that is unlike anything you have seen before in that mountain. I can promise you that."
"Made you?"
"Birthed, made, it is all the same thing, is it not?
His seed shaped me in a womb that was most unwelcoming.
" A flash of those fangs one more time made her shiver.
"I killed her on the way out. His beloved wife and queen, the perfect almost full-blooded elven woman who would deign to cast herself into the shadows and never see her precious sun again, all for the love of a troll.
It's quite the story. I might tell it to you someday. "
Those teeth made Rose nervous. His words almost felt like a threat, and she took a single step away from him.
Toward the cliffside.
For all his blathering that he would convince her not to jump, the prince only widened his eyes in shock as she felt the world start to slip away from her.
It was Gunnar who let out a curse that made birds leap from the trees behind him.
He was the one who caught her arm, just like always.
He saved her from certain death, as he had done countless times.
But this time he reeled her into his chest and just.. . held her.
It was only a few seconds. Long enough for her to feel the bands of his arms around her back, the wide breadth of his chest inhaling beneath her, and the stir of his exhalation moving her hair.
Long enough for her to realize with sudden surprise that she didn't mind it.
She hated being touched by anyone and everyone, but the tight grip he wrapped her in made her feel safe.
Just for a moment. She didn't mind that the bare skin of his arms pressed against her back, or that he could do whatever he wanted with her, because she trusted that he wouldn't do anything bad to her. Gunnar had saved her life. Again.
And then he stepped back at least three paces, giving her a good amount of time to breathe as he glared at the prince behind her. "Don't threaten the woman."
"Why do you have a woman with you anyway?" the prince asked. Then again, he flashed her a sharp mouthed smile. "I don't mean to scare you. I'm harmless."
She shuddered. "You don't look harmless."
"Am I not pretty to you? I'm pretty to most people."
She looked him over one more time. From the gash along his features, bisecting his eyebrows and down over his left eye, to the soul that was hidden inside him. Trying to peer through the facade to the person beneath it.
Both trolls seemed to wait with bated breath to hear what she would say.
"I have met someone like you before," she replied quietly.
"He told me he was harmless, too. But I saw the sharpness of his teeth and the bitter edge to his words.
He lied for me for years before revealing a truth that unsettled me to my core.
I do not believe, in any sense of the term, that you are harmless. "
The prince tilted his head back and laughed. The sound echoed around them, and she knew without a doubt that this man valued honesty more than he did blind faith.
"Oh, I like her!" he said on the tail end of her laughter. "Do you know how few people will tell me the truth? Most would simper at my feet and tell me they'd do anything for an ounce of my approval. You know that?"
He reached for her hand, pausing when he saw how she pulled it back. Then he did the same thing his father did. He stared into her eyes in a way that made her feel flayed alive.
Perhaps she revealed something, however. Because he dropped his hand and nodded at her instead. "My name is Magnus, my lady. What is yours?"
"I don't share my name with elves," she said. "I learned that a long time ago."
"The same betrayer told you that?"
She nodded.
Magnus sucked his teeth in before tilting his head to the side in acknowledgment. "Interesting."
Gunnar stepped between them, and all she could see was the broad expanse of his back. His shirt was darkened with sweat, and, oddly, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him sweat before.
"We have to get going," Gunnar snarled. "You seem to have arrived without a pack."
"Well, I was planning on traveling by caravan.
Thus, there is much for me to have in those wagons but very little to carry.
" Magnus stretched his arms over his head, revealing a line of dark gray skin and a V of muscle that disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
"But, from what I am used to, if someone is sent to gather me then they should have prepared to have me on their trip. Yes?"
Gunnar grumbled something under his breath, and Magnus passed by him with a slap on the shoulder.
This was going to be interesting. Very, very interesting.
Gunnar did not like this prince at all, and she had to wonder why.
Magnus had done nothing particularly strange to her.
He'd even noticed she didn't enjoy being touched, and that should have been something Gunnar had seen as well.
It was a good thing. The prince had been.
.. Well, not kind thus far, but he was a very intriguing character to add to this adventure.
Stepping closer to her, Gunnar murmured under his breath, "You keep an eye on him. I don't trust him."
She looked up into his features, seeing the creasing of his brow and how he never quite took his eyes off Magnus as the prince meandered somewhat in the right direction. Then asked, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you trust him?"
Apparently, the question was an odd one. Gunnar blinked a few times, the anger clearing from his gaze as he looked down at her. "Because I don't like the way he looks at you."
Then he walked away from her. He headed after the prince, all broad shoulders and bulging muscles, stalking like he was hunting someone he wanted to bludgeon to death.
It occurred to Rose that maybe her feet were rooted to the ground because she was surprised at how much she liked hearing that Gunnar was a little jealous.
Overprotective. Just like he always was.
Even this new version of herself hadn't shaken him from wanting to take care of her, and that was reassuring.
Taking a deep breath, she headed after the trolls into the forest beyond.
Their journey was significantly slower with Magnus.
The troll prince did not enjoy putting in any sort of hard labor.
Walking around meant he complained about literally everything.
His feet hurt. The pace was far too fast for him to admire the forest. Did they think that it was normal for him to not have water yet?
But the more she watched him, the more she realized this was a show he was putting on. Magnus was goading Gunnar. He was trying to get the other troll to do... something. She just didn't know what.
Magnus leaned dramatically against a tree branch as the sun started to rise, sighing as though he were some thespian in a play. "I truly cannot go any farther."
"I am looking for a campsite that is safe," Gunnar hissed through his tusks. "Why don't you rest your delicate feet and I'll come get you when I find it?"
"That would be perfect, Father's warrior." Magnus had started calling him that. Likely because it made Gunnar grind his teeth together.
An angry huff of breath exploded from Gunnar before he turned into the trees. "Rose. Come with me."
She was curious, though. It was a new emotion that she hadn't felt in a while, and she also suspected that she was right about why this prince was so pompous.
So instead of following alongside Gunnar like the dutiful little pet she had been for many months, she said, "I think I'm going to stay here with the prince. "
He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. And maybe she had. Rose was with an unfamiliar male in a dark forest where anything could happen. If Gunnar strayed too far, he wouldn't be able to save her.
She stared back at him. Willing him to leave and give her this chance to prove that she wasn't as broken as he thought.
Gunnar gave her one sharp nod before melting into the shadows.
The prince's ears flicked, moving slowly until finally he turned to her with a gleeful expression. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Why are you taunting him?"
"Because it's fun."
"Why?" She hardened the word, and was surprised to see him shift back from her a bit.
Magnus relented. "Because I want to see what his magic is.
I can sense there is something strange about him, but I can't put a finger on what it is.
Every troll has magic. But that one in particular has a sensation that I haven't felt in a very long time.
I can smell it, you know. Magic. You have a lot of it about you as well. "
"I don't like what you're doing to him."
He scoffed. "Okay. And?"
She could feel a piece of herself shifting at the incredulous tone. Anger bubbled up inside her. Anger that was hard to get ahold of, again, like this beast had been birthed in her chest and she had no idea how to put a leash on the damn thing.
But that anger pulled at her, at something else inside of her.
It was like someone whispering a story to her that she wasn’t supposed to know.
Her pale hair fell in front of her face as she looked down at the prince's feet, and words spilled from her lips: "They hid you away because they were afraid of your power, so I find it ironic that you are so fixated on others’ powers.
You look like an elf, but you do not act like one.
They wanted to create dark elves, and you are the closest they have come.
But you know nothing of your heritage, where you came from, or how you have become what you are. "
"And you do?"
"I know much about the elves." Rose lifted her gaze to glare at him.
"I know more than you will ever guess at.
Their language is seared into my mind, both spoken and recorded.
I know their traditions, their ways, and all that they desired to do in this realm.
I know their pain and torment, just as I know what runs in your veins, prince. "
The darkness around his eyes seemed to move. Writhing beneath his skin as power flexed beneath the charcoal gray. "You know nothing of my power, human."
"The mountain doesn't speak to you when you're so far away from it, does it?" she asked, more words that came from somewhere else. Someone else. "But you should be able to hear it by now, prince of Trollveggen. So why can't you hear her any longer?"
Magnus seemed to freeze, staring at her in a new, frightened light. His eyes widened. His body stiffened. He lurched away from her only to see Gunnar materialize behind him.
Her troll wrapped a fist around Magnus's throat and tossed him backward. The prince caught his leg on a log and went down, hard. Hard enough that the moss would likely have an imprint of his body there for a while yet.
"No more tricks," Gunnar snarled. "No more games. You will behave while you travel with us, or I will lose you in these woods and you will never find your way back to your mountain. Do you hear me?"
Magnus swallowed. "Heard, Illusionist."