Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
The rock reveals itself to be the crouched figure of the cave troll. His skin has a rough, stone-like texture to it, as if the mottled gray color camouflages him to his surroundings. Cracks and fissures run along its arms and chest, filled with green moss. It only enhances its indestructible appearance.
At our intrusion into his sanctuary, the troll stands. He towers over us. Limbs are long and grotesquely muscled, the sinew beneath the skin rippling with each movement. Massive hands, tipped with jagged, dirt-encrusted nails, hang at its sides, each finger as thick as my wrist. His legs are bowed, succumbing to the immense weight. Wide, bare feet dig into the stone floor as though they’ve always been part of the earth.
The troll’s face is perhaps his most unsettling feature. Its eyes are deep set, catching the firelight like molten coals. A flat, wide nose spreads across its face, with nostrils that flare with each breath. With each exhale, he emits a low, rumbling sound. Small tusks jut from the bottom jaw, curving upward like broken tree roots.
The troll’s gaze sweeps toward us, lingering on me for a moment. I gravitate close to Costin, wanting to hide behind him.
Yep. The vampire can do the talking.
There’s something about the troll’s eyes. Though it’s evidently a creature of brute strength, I can tell it’s not mindless. It moves with purpose, its enormous form blocking the firelight when he moves past.
“What brings you to Morvok’s domain, Costin and pet?” The troll’s low, gravelly voice reverberates over us, and I swear I feel the ground tremble beneath my feet. A grumbly reverberation follows the words, as if he has little cause to use his voice. His mouth is full of uneven, jagged teeth that protrude even when it’s closed—shards of broken stone ready to tear through anything in its path.
Honestly. This thing can call me whatever names he wants. I’m not going to protest.
Costin approaches him, his voice taking on a respectful tone. “Greetings, Morvok. We come because we need a necklace repaired. ”
The troll ambles closer. My instinct is to step back, but Costin holds firm.
Long, stringy hair hangs in greasy clumps from Morvok’s head, matted with grime and what looks like the tangled remnants of a long-dead animal.
“Give Morvok.” He stretches out his hand.
Costin turns to me. “Give me the necklace.”
“Not Costin,” Morvok denies. “Pet give Morvok.”
The troll’s eyes shift toward me.
I pull the pouch out of my pocket and slowly move toward him. I tremble as I stretch my arm as far as it will go to give him the pouch. I catch the faint scent of damp earth and decay, like something that’s been buried for far too long. I’m well aware that every step we take forward is pulling me deeper into a world I barely understand.
“M-my name is Tamara.” My voice is unsteady as I drag my feet, inching closer. “It’s nice to meet you, Morvok.”
He grumbles, the sound vibrating the ground beneath me.
The troll holds out his hand, and I drop the pouch into his palm without touching him. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs. Something about what he senses causes him to move. “What trouble did you bring Morvok, Costin? This is an amulet, not a necklace.”
I step backward until I bump into Costin. He places his hand on my shoulder and presses down to keep me there.
Bony ridges protrude from the troll’s back when he turns toward the firelight. He tears away the string holding the pouch shut and drops it on the floor before dumping the broken shards onto a worktable.
“Can you repair it?” Costin asks.
“Where did you steal this?” he demands. “This belongs to the gods. You are not a god.”
“It was a gift,” I say. “My mother and grandfather traded with Norwegian trolls to acquire it.”
Morvok turns aggressively toward me. “I don’t believe. It broke because it is not yours to have. The three of you need to leave. This stolen magic is not for you.”
Three of us? I look behind us. I only count two. Maybe math isn’t a troll’s strong suit?
“You know what this is.” Costin’s words aren’t a question. “You know we can’t take it somewhere else. You know what that stone does.”
“It’s not right to steal magic and break time.” He waves his hand and puts his back toward me. “Leave. You know not what you have done.”
“It’s mine,” I insist. “Someone tried to take it from me, and that is why it is broken. If you’re unable to help me, give it back so I can find someone who can.”
The troll snorts. He fixes his stare on me. “Yours?”
I don’t answer the accusation in his tone.
“You?” he demands. “A fragile girl with nothing more than a glint of light before darkness?”
I stiffen, hating the way he says it like I’m some unlikely hero who doesn’t belong. I manage a weak nod.
Costin presses down harder on my shoulder, as if warning me to stop talking.
“It’s not stolen. It belongs to me.” I try to keep the fear out of my voice. I don’t want him to think I’m lying. “According to my grandfather, trolls created the original necklace for an ancient Pagan goddess who was so beautiful that other goddesses envied her, and gods constantly pursued her. The necklace was enchanted to protect her from unwanted advances and the dangers posed by other deities. Later, the necklace was broken up, and I was given this piece. The amulet has protected me many times—from vampire attacks, explosions, and even from being killed in a fire that broke out on my birthday.”
“It’s broken. You should have taken better care. Now go.” He is losing what little patience he has.
“It must be fixed. If you won’t do it for us, then tell me who can. If I don’t find a way, there’s this prophecy and…” I reach to pull the bo ok out of my waistband and hold it up. “Please, Morvok. I’ve seen what will come to pass if I fail. Lava will run in the streets. Buildings fall. People die.”
“Perhaps it is time to wash the earth of humans,” the troll says with a dismissive wave. He looks at the ceiling. “They are noisy pests, tearing and stomping and consuming.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Costin steps in front of me, his hands resting on his waist. He motions for me to be quiet, but I ignore him.
“It’s not just humans,” I insist, pushing around Costin. “If we fail to stop this prophecy, everything gets destroyed. Look at the book. See for yourself. Whatever ancient evil that is tied to that magic is waking up. We need to fix the amulet and keep the evil where it is.”
Morvok holds out his hand for the book. “Give Morvok.”
“Tamara,” Costin warns under his breath.
I’m a little braver as I approach the troll this time. I hand him the book. I remind myself that I am Astrid’s daughter. Her lessons have not been in vain. I know flattery will get you far with supernaturals. I force a smile. “There’s a great story about how trolls built the beautiful mountains.”
The book looks tiny in his hands. Morvok sniffs it as he rapidly flips through the pages. The troll’s eyes shift toward me, and I can feel the weight of his stare. “You have read this?”
I nod.
“This is your blood?” Morvok asks.
I nod again. I’m not sure how he knows that. The blood drops had soaked into the pages and disappeared. “There was a blood lock.”
“You are mortal?” Morvok appears confused.
“Yes,” I say. “But my father is Davis Devine.”
He grunts, as if the name means nothing to him.
Costin is stiff beside me, but he doesn’t answer. I can sense the tension radiating from him, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air. All I want is to get the amulet fixed and get out of here before something more goes wrong.
“Maybe you knew my grandfather, George Devine?” I try to keep smiling. It’s difficult while knowing I’m within swinging distance of the troll’s rocky arms. “He said to find you when the time comes.”
I mean, it’s kind of true in a roundabout way.
The troll’s gaze shifts to the gemstones hanging above us, then back to me. “Repairing the amulet will cost you. Nothing in this world is free, least of all power.”
“I have money,” I say. “Name your price.”
Can it be possible that this entire ordeal might soon be over ?
The troll laughs, the sound causing the entire cavern to shake like the beginning tremors of an earthquake. The gems hanging overhead sway and clink softly together. “Money is not a price. There is no cost to riches.”
“She’s not here for your riddles,” Costin says. “We need the amulet repaired.”
The troll snorts.
I glance at Costin, wondering just how much more I’m not seeing. He seems tenser than usual. His jaw is set, but there’s darkness again lurking in his gaze, something I can’t quite place.
“What you need does not dictate what Morvok gives.” The troll sets the book on his table. He picks up a dagger. “Come.”
Costin begins walking toward him.
“Not you, vampire,” Morvok denies.
I glance at Costin before forcing myself toward the troll. I give a nervous laugh and joke, “You’re not going to put me in a stew, are you?”
Costin loudly clears his throat. He had told me not to make small talk or jokes, but the troll has stopped trying to kick us out of his home. So there is that.
“Humans too chewy,” Morvok answers.
I want to believe he’s joking, but I’m not sure. His expressions aren’t exactly readable.
“If you lie, you will be dead,” Morvok warns. He reaches for an open jar of yellow powder with his free hand and sprinkles it over the amulet. He then follows it with drops of green from a vial.
I eye his dagger. In anyone else’s hands, it would probably be a broadsword. “I’m not lying.”
“Hand.” Morvok nods at the table.
I stare at his sword and slowly place my palm flat on the uneven surface, ready to jerk back if he tries to hack pieces off me.
“If you harm her…” Costin lets his threat hang as he appears next to me.
“You want a fix,” Morvok says.
“Costin, it’s okay,” I whisper.
Morvok moves surprisingly quick for one so large. He grabs my arm, his large hand wrapping me from elbow to wrist. He lifts me from the table and quickly slices open my palm with the tip of his blade.
I cry out in pain as my blood spills over the amulet’s broken pieces. Costin grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me behind him. The troll lets go of me but instantly holds the blade to the vampire’s chest, pressing it over his heart.
“No, don’t!” I try to reach to stop the knife. I push the troll’s arm but am unable to move him.
My spilled blood begins to bubble and steam.
Morvok tosses the blade to the side, causing the dagger to stick in the tabletop. “This amulet cannot be fixed until the magic is earned.”
“What does that mean?” I look at Costin, confused. “I have never had magic, so how do I earn it?”
“Come back when you have completed the labyrinth and have seen your true face,” Morvok holds the yellow powder and reaches for my arm. “Until then you do not have the worth.”
I don’t like the sound of that.
Costin’s eyes are fixated on my blood, and I swear I see him lick his bottom lip.
“I fix,” Morvok insists, curling his fingers to indicate I should give him my hand.
I lift my arm. He dumps the yellow powder on my wound. It tingles and burns along the cut, but the sensation is over quickly. The troll’s magic clots the injury.
Costin grimaces.
“Uh, thanks,” I tell the troll to be polite.
“What’s the labyrinth?” I ask.
I reach for the amulet shards, but Morvok blocks me.
“I do not know what your labyrinth is,” Morvok answers.
“It’s a series of trials you must face and it’s different for everyone,” Costin explains before saying to the troll, “The labyrinth is too dangerous for a mortal. There must be another way. ”
“That is the price of this great magic,” Morvok says. “Otherwise, everyone would use it.”
“There has to be another way,” Costin insists.
“You can throw the pieces to Draakmar as an offering,” Morvok suggests. The way he says the creature’s name inspires both terror and reverence.
“And that will keep the evil from rising?” I ask, hopeful.
“No, it will help Draakmar to surface, but he might spare you his fire.” Morvok takes a yellow stone from the ceiling and sets it on the table. He crushes it with his thumb, griding it into dust.
The evil has a name. Draakmar.
I was right. It doesn’t make me feel better to give it a name.
“Who is this Draakmar?” I ask.
The troll frowns. “Everyone knows of the great sleeping dragon Draakmar.”
I think of the schoolchildren at the bridge. Maybe I should have joined their field trip.
“My education was…” I gesture helplessly. “Human.”
The troll harrumphs.
“Draakmar is a fire dragon who embodies raw, destructive power,” Costin says. “The original amulet was formed from one of its scales.”
I frown at him. He knew all this and didn’t tell me before ?
“This is why you failed to protect the magic,” Morvok grumbles. “You should not have been given that which you don’t understand. It took many trolls several years to pry it from his back. So long as the magic was intact, he did not notice. Now that it is broken, he will come looking for that which was stolen. He will come to eat you first.”
“Come on, Tamara.” Costin is unhappy as he forces me to leave with him.
I try to free myself, but he holds firm and blocks me from returning. “Wait. I have more questions.”
“She must face the labyrinth trials alone, vampire,” Morvok calls after us.
Costin pushes me through the troll’s entryway tunnel so fast I can barely stay on my feet. Something has changed in him. He’s always had that domineering quality to him, but he’s starting to act a little too controlling.
“Dammit, Costin, let me go,” I demand as we reach the row of mud-brick houses.
“I told you to let me do the talking!” Costin hisses under his breath. His eyes are swirling red with anger. “You didn’t need stories of Draakmar filling your imagination and distracting you from your purpose.”
“So the evil has a name,” I argue. “Does it really change anything? And I don’t need you dictating what I do and don’t need to know. From now on, you tell me the?—”
“Eh?” The goblin’s earthen jug rolls toward my feet as he struggles to stand.
I jerk my foot back to keep whatever liquid is inside from splashing on my shoe.
“Halt!” the goblin orders from the ground, lifting his finger. He holds the warning for a few seconds before collapsing back into drunken oblivion. A disturbing falsetto snore sounds.
“I don’t get why you’re so angry. It’s not like you have to do the trials,” I argue. “I mean, I didn’t really think the prophecy was going to be as easy as step one: find troll, step two: fix amulet, step three: all good.”
“Keep your voice down,” Costin warns. “It’s not safe to talk here.”
I wonder if that’s true or if he just wants to shut me up.
“Follow me.” Costin doesn’t give me a choice as he ducks between two of the dwellings.