Chapter Eleven
Walker
T he off-brand gargoyle stared at us with a wonderstruck expression. At least, I thought it did. It was hard to tell with the too-large eyes and granite skin.
“Visitors,” he crooned in a gravelly voice. It took another hit of its blunt. “So long since we’ve had visitors.”
With her mouth agape, Freya took a step closer to the creature. I held out a hand to stop her, and she startled. Her jaw clenched.
“They’re trolls,” she whispered.
From the way she said it, this was supposed to be enlightening information, but it only told me they were not in fact gargoyles. I learned more about how dangerous they were from Freya’s shocked expression.
Freya rarely showed her surprise.
“Not visitors,” the one next to it corrected, “adventurers. Trespassers. Vile, wonderful beings.”
“Two worlds they come from,” another said, “but not the vessel for the new world. Remnants of the past.”
“Come into the light,” one of them with his back said and chuckled. “Let me see you as well as I smell you.”
In the last few months, I had been creeped out plenty, but never on so many levels at once.
I grabbed Freya’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
She hesitated.
“Freya,” I growled, “they’re smelling us.”
“We didn’t just stumble upon them,” she argued. “Trolls are so rare, we thought they might be extinct. Finding them here is—it’s extraordinary.”
I glanced around at the chuckling, high-as-hell monsters. Extraordinary was not exactly how I would describe them.
“Don’t be afraid,” the troll facing us said. “Our teeth are sharp, but our tongues are clever.” A beat later, they broke into more laughter.
“I don’t want to find out about their tongues, Freya,” I said and stared into her gaze.
“The future,” she said, “Walker, they can see the future. I think we were meant to find them to help us track the chimera.”
The trolls hissed.
“Vessel, vessel, vess…” the one with his back to us muttered.
“Prices and pennies and prizes,” another said.
“What’s your price?” Freya demanded and stepped forward. With dread swirling my stomach, I followed her.
“Come closer,” one troll crooned. The others repeated the command.
We walked until we stood only a few feet from the fire and faced the trolls. Arion paused at Freya’s heels with his hackles raised. The trolls’ skin tones and hair color varied in shades of gray and brown and green, but their eyes and teeth were the same—large and eerie.
“Your price?” I asked.
The troll—the one who smelled me—took a hit of the cigar and grinned. “Witches and wars, and wars and witches.”
“Helpful,” I muttered.
“Want to hear more?” another troll asked. “Show us the riches.”
“Freya,” I grumbled and met her wide-eyed gaze. “I’m not getting naked for trolls.”
She winced. “Surely, that’s not—”
“Riches of gold,” a troll interrupted. “Riches of silver. Riches of such things matter so little.”
“Riches of want,” another chimed in. “Riches of ember. Riches of those are the ones to remember.”
“You want fire?” I said. “Freya loves summoning fire.”
Freya elbowed me.
“ Really?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “At least I didn’t suggest you strip, but on second thought—"
Freya elbowed me again, and this time, I couldn’t blame her.
“Down to the bottom,” a different troll continued, “you must go. Find the ember where it grows. In return…”
“You’ll become one who knows,” the other troll finished and puffed the cigar.
“Bottom of what?” Freya asked.
“Does it matter?” I whispered.
I struggled to share Freya’s faith in the tripping trolls.
Tripping trolls, I thought. This is what my life has come to.
“Bottom of life,” the troll who’d spotted us said. “Bottom of spring. So close but so far, just out of our reach.”
The other trolls grumbled their agreement and looked longingly in the distance.
“The pond,” I realized. “Whatever they want is in the pond.”
Freya sighed. “I imagine swimming is difficult when your body is made of rock.”
I barely held back my laughter, then I sobered. “We have to swim to the bottom of the pond, don’t we?”
“For a chance at discovering more about whatever deadly thing we’re chasing?” Freya said. “Yeah. I think we do.”
I grunted. “I guess I don’t want to find out how they’d handle our refusal anyway.”
“We will return with what you seek,” Freya declared to the trolls, “on the condition that you help us on our quest. Help us capture the chimera.”
An awkward beat later, the trolls erupted into laughter and cheers. Their huge teeth gleamed in the firelight.
“To the depths and to the deep,” one of them agreed. “Then we shall give you what you most desperately seek.”
“Cool,” I muttered and quickly followed Freya and Arion in the direction of the pond.
“Cool?” Freya tittered. “You’re faced with ancient, powerful creatures, and your best response is ‘cool’?”
I lifted my hat and ran a hand through my curls.
“You were gonna let them see me naked,” I shot back.
Through the thick trees, the pond came into view.
She shrugged. “It seemed a small price to pay.”
“For you,” I said and snickered. “I get it now. You just wanted to join the peep show.”
I waited for her to scold me for flirting, considering she ended our non-relationship, but she said nothing. Under the moonlight, her cheeks flushed. A tightness in my chest eased. It was foolish. Freya’s feelings changed nothing in our situation. She couldn’t be with an out-of-control he-witch.
Regardless, it felt good to make her blush.
It felt good to be the two of us again.
We reached the pond and hesitated at its sandy, rocky shores. Bugs hummed, but the water was still as glass. The scent of fish soured the air. Arion hissed at it and rubbed against Freya’s legs.
“Does it seem,” I asked, “too normal?”
Freya nodded. “I sense no magic except for ours and the trolls’. I wonder what exactly is down here that they need so desperately.”
“They kept saying embers,” I said, “but I don’t see how we’re going to find any of those underwater. I don’t really see how we’re going to find anything.”
Though it was clean as far as ponds went, the water was still a murky, greenish blue color.
“Cowboy.” Freya grinned. “When are you going to stop overusing that question? The answer is almost always ‘with magic’.”
I sighed. “Of course. What’s your grand plan, witch?”
“I’ll summon a pocket of air,” Freya explained matter-of-factly, “and we’ll explore the pond that way.”
I ran my hand down my tired face.
“Think of it like a submarine,” she urged. “Except, instead of steel, it’s composed of air magic. It’ll be fine.”
“I guess the water’s not that deep anyway,” I said and sighed. “It’s not like I have a better plan.”
“Excellent,” Freya said. She bent down and scratched Arion behind his ears. “Stay here and keep watch, friend.”
Arion hissed again. He was never happy to be apart from her.
“I’ll be okay,” Freya promised her familiar. “If we don’t emerge within ten minutes, get the others.”
She faced me. “Take my hand.”
I resisted the urge to make a joke about mixed signals and did as she asked. My fingers closed around her much smaller ones like a glove.
“Wait,” she said and sighed. She reached on her toes, grabbed my hat, and set it on the shore. “The air will protect us, but in case we need to swim, we can’t have you losing your only accessory.”
“Thanks, sw-witch,” I mumbled. Freya pretended not to hear my almost-endearment.
Freya muttered a spell under her breath, and magic hummed in the air. Now, I recognized it as distinctly Freya’s. It was potent, but not as heavy and cloying as the High Witch’s. No, Freya’s magic was like a hymn. It made my own magic tingle under my skin in response.
Freya tugged on my hand and led us into the water—well, sort of—wind enveloped us and kept the murky liquid from touching us. I took a step deeper into the water, but my foot was swept out from under me by Freya’s wind. As I fell backward, Freya caught my fall with magic and righted me. My face burned.
Freya did all the heavy lifting, but I couldn’t even walk.
“Relax,” she said. “Remember what happened in the forest? You let instinct take over, and your magic guided your steps. Let go, and it’ll help you keep your balance.”
“That was easy,” I argued. “I already had a pretty good grasp on walking through the forest. I’ve never walked on air.”
Freya glowered and crossed her arms. “Don’t be scared, cowboy. Let go.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the truth was that I was terrified of my own magic, and we both knew it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said quietly.
Her face softened. “You won’t.”
I continued to hesitate, and Freya sighed.
“I think I was wrong before,” she admitted. “You shouldn't isolate your emotions from your magic—you should trust your heart to guide it.”
"Did Freya Redfern really just admit to being wrong?" I teased.
She shook her head. "I'm serious. All you ever do is fight to protect people. Trust your magic to act as an extension of that desire."
Sobering, I mulled over her words. Though trusting my power frightened me, nothing else had worked.
It was time to sink or swim.
Literally.
In the forest, I had wanted to navigate the darkness more easily, and my magic had responded as naturally as breathing. It had actually been a relief not to hold my power at bay and allow the pleasant buzz of it to heat my veins.
I studied the swirling wind at my feet and how it kept the dark water from touching us. Loosening the last of my restraint, I placed my foot in front of the other and willed my magic to steady my step. Warmth spread through my limbs, and at my back, air supported my body. I successfully got to the edge of Freya’s pocket of wind and grinned.
“Did you do that?” I asked.
“Nope,” Freya said and walked to my side.
As we strode farther into the pond, water swelled around us, but our pocket of air remained strong. I took slow, measured steps, but my magic continued to support me.
“I’ll admit,” I said, “this is pretty cool.”
“Wow,” Freya answered and chuckled. “Does that mean we’re as impressive as the trolls?”
Water swelled around us, and we were almost completely submerged.
“Shouldn’t you be focusing?” I argued.
As the pond closed in on us, some of my nerves returned. The moon’s glow was almost completely masked by the murky water, and everything was dark except for something shimmering far beneath us. With a chill, I realized the tiny, orange and yellow balls of light resembled embers.
Freya raised her hand to her waist, then slowly lowered it, and our DIY submarine mirrored the movement. Down and down and down, we sank. My unease grew, and my magic burned hotter. I clamped down on my control, and the balance it had provided abandoned me. I tumbled forward, but Freya caught the collar of my jacket, and our plunge halted.
“Walker!” she hissed.
Unwilling to pull her down with me, I reached for my magic again, and it righted me with a push of air. I swallowed.
“Trust it,” Freya insisted.
Eyeing me, she raised her hand again and lowered it. As we sank deeper and deeper, I continued to grow more on edge, which put my magic on high alert.
Trust it, I thought. Trust yourself.
I had always prided myself on being dependable. Freya had told me countless times my magic was an extension of myself. If that were true, wouldn’t that make my magic trustworthy?
There was only one way to find out.
Despite the growing heat in my veins, I didn’t clamp down on my magic. I allowed it to buzz under my skin and loosened the reins on my control even more.
It’s an extension of me, it’s an extension of me, it’s an extension of me…
As we descended deeper and deeper, the moon’s glow faded to a distant speck. The orange and red light glowed brighter beneath us. My magic remained simmering beneath the surface but firmly under control. I breathed a sigh of relief, but a different wariness quickly plagued me.
“This is the deepest pond I’ve ever seen,” I said.
“Have you been to the bottoms of many of them?” Freya retorted.
While she had a point, her harsh tone meant she was worried. I glanced up. The top of the pond was impossibly far above us. If something happened to our submarine, we would need to swim for our lives.
I was a mountain guy—not a swimmer.
My magic buzzed in my ears, but I breathed through it, and my power relaxed. Finally, we closed in on the embers, and I realized they weren’t embers at all. Glowing yellow, red, and orange plants swayed gently beneath us.
“Is that moss?” Freya asked.
“Magical moss,” I replied. “For the tripping trolls. Makes sense.”
Freya shook herself. “Okay. I’ll swim out of the air pocket to collect it, then come back, and we can go to the top.”
“Whoa,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be easier for me to swim? That way, you can concentrate on keeping our submarine together?”
She searched for a reason to argue, but we both knew I was right. While I wasn’t eager to swim, I also recognized the logic of my plan.
“Fine,” Freya said, “but…be careful.”
As a memory surfaced, I grinned and threw Freya’s words to me back at her.
“Careful’s not really in my nature, witch.”