- Home
- Adam Boustead
Softy the Troll Page 3
Softy the Troll Read online
Page 3
“Where are we?”
“In the library.”
“How did we get here?”
“I used a spell.”
“A spell, you’re kidding?”
“You have been exposed to one centaur, one hecatoncheire and three trolls and you find it hard that I can cast magic? he asked, not unkindly.
Not seeming to need a reply he turned towards the centre of the room which she had not been able to see from the door on their way past before. He bowed to something there.
Jenny turned to see what he was bowing to and there, curled on a low platform, was the biggest snake Jenny had ever seen, or was there more than one. Yes and no, there were many, all kinds of colours and sizes, all joined to the same huge tail.
“W, would I be right in thinking I am looking at a hydra?”
“You’re quick, I will give you that, and it’s the hydra.”
He once again bent forward and started speaking in that strange hissing language which must be some kind of magic speech. “Sis sivis sys sifes spars stoots sncreeces sours.” To her disgust he spat a large gob of blood on the floor which started to grow and writhe. It had turned into a small red snake. It glided up to the hydra and touched its tail to the trunk of the main body, sank in and fused with the hydra, becoming a new head.
“A great gift, Ambassador. What might I do to reward it?” spoke the many mouths all at once.
“Merely tell us where Softy is, me lady.”
“He is over there to your right in that seat, but you will have to hurry, it will be sunrise soon.”
“Our thanks, fkerreesto, great one.”
So saying he rushed of before Jenny could say or do anything to warn him and unseeing, he collided with a foot stool. He and the stool went flying. Jenny went over and reached down to help him up.
“Sorry, W, I did not have time to warn you.”
“My own fault, not yours. I was in too much of a hurry.”
“Still have patience problems, Bat?” came a soft low voice that stroked the ears like silk.
“Something reached past Jenny’s hand to take hold of W and pulled him to his feet.
“Yes, I am still impatient and I still sometimes forget I am blind. What about you, my sweet friend? Are you still denying you need reading glasses?”
The figure reached out and placed a pair of old fashioned reading glasses in W’s hand. White smiled.
“Why in such a hurry?”
“We needed to speak to you before sunrise, of course.”
“We?”
“Me and my ward here.”
The figure turned and Jenny realised why he was called Softy.
Softy
He was clearly one of those trolls that had been fighting in the gym. Like them, he was huge and muscle bound, his muscles rippling and bulging under his ill fitting black jeans and black and white checked lumberjack shirt.
“Softy, I’d like you to meet Jenny Charity.”
“Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Bat’s is a friend of mine,” he said showing sharp fangs, and reaching out a hand for her to shake.
At first Jenny shied away, intimidated by this muscle bound hulk, until she looked into his green eyes and knew why he was called Softy. They radiated gentleness and kindness. She took his hand, noticing that he had four fingers and two thumbs, one on each side of his fingers. They were tipped with long sharp claws that retracted like a cats. His hand was hard and rough, with many callouses. It was like shaking hands with a dog’s paw. He handshake was limp, as though he was afraid to put too much force into it in case he hurt her.
He took his glasses back from White, tucking them into his breast pocket. She found herself staring at his huge muscled chest which was on display because the shirt was so stretched the buttons would not fasten. His skin seemed to shimmer and shine in the candle light. He caught her looking and dropped his eyes, shuffling his bare, prehensile feet.
“Softy, Shadow has taken my ward’s brother. Can you help us get him back?”
A look of terror crossed his monstrous face, making him look pitiable rather than fierce. “I cannot, you know I cannot.”
Terror wrapped its dark icy talons around Jenny’s heart and squeezed.
“We do not want you to fight him. I know you could never do that. I know what I am asking, but we need your help. A young, sweet, innocent child is lost in the dark. Someone needs to help him into the light.”
These words caused tears to pour down his face and dampen his rough cheeks. “Very well, I will help.”
Jenny let out a breath she had not known she was holding. “W, let me get this right. Someone or something has Peter and this, this gentleman knows where he is?”
“Got it in one.”
“Then where is Peter? Is he safe? Why are we waiting here, let’s go.”
“I am very, very sorry, sweet Amazon, but we cannot go now,” said W, gently stroking her shoulder.
“Why not?” Jenny almost screamed, ignoring the disapproving hisses coming from the hydra.
“Because of sunrise,” came the gentle sad voice of Softy.
She turned to ask what on earth that had to do with anything, but before she could there came a strange creaking sound and his body began to stiffen.
“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked, surprised at the amount of concern that rose at the thought that this strange stranger might be in pain.
He did not answer.
Was it her imagination, or was he suddenly shiny in the candle light?
“Touch him,” urged W.
Not understanding, Jenny reached out and touched what should have been rough but warm flesh. His skin had felt like rough wood before, but now it really was rough wood.
“All trolls turn to some elemental substance during the day. If they are caught in sunlight they will stay that way forever. He has agreed to help, that is enough for now.”
“But Peter?”
White tossed that coin again. It came up the angel.
“He will be all right for now.”
“You’re placing my brother’s life on the toss of that stupid coin?”
“I had hoped you would have more faith in me than that. It’s not a stupid coin, it’s magic. It lets me know the true answer to a question I ask in my mind. The angel is yes, the devil is no. I asked it if Peter is okay and the angel says he is,” he said with more certainty than he should have.
Was he lying about not knowing where Peter was? But why would he lie?
“Come, we must get you back before your mum finds you’re gone and thinks you are kidnapped too.”
Jenny was reluctant to leave, but what could she do?
He guided them out and nothing more remarkable happened.
The desk was attended by what looked like a normal woman who gave them a quick glance and White a brief smile and pat on the shoulder. He returned the touch, but neither of them spoke.
They reached the fire escape on White’s level.
“I will collect you here at dusk tomorrow. They will not let you into the club without me. Please take me very seriously when I tell you, do not try to go there without me, it’s very dangerous. Despite my warnings the gang might still try to rape you, and there are even worse things that could happen to you in the club without me there,” he said flatly, making it not a threat but a fact.
“That’s it? After all that you just expect me to pretend none of that happened?”
He did not speak, just pointed at his back. Without her noticing he had reverted to a hunchback.
“But I cannot.”
“You must. If you want to see your brother ever again you pretend that tonight never happened,” he said sharply, with a flash of intensity in his eyes and voice that was frightening. But then he softened. “I know it’s hard. You want to tell your mum there is hope, that you know people who know where Peter is and will get him back to you. You cannot. If you tell her she will want to know who we are. Then what do you say? Oh, yes, Mum, the blind hunchback do
wnstairs knows a centaur and some trolls who can get him back. She will send you to the funny farm. Besides which, you swore a very powerful oath to stay silent. You might not believe it, but the magic that oath will call upon is very real.”
“Could you not show her, make her swear that oath thing and show her like you did me?”
“I could,” he said, seeming to really think about it. “But I will not, she would not let me. You must not even mention me. If your mother learns you’re going to the worst parts of the town with a dirty old man she will sic the law on me. I am sorry, but nothing must be allowed to stop my work, not even your brother.”
“Jenny opened her mouth to protest.
“I do not want that to happen. I want Peter back as badly as you do. That is why you must pretend. I know it’s hard, but it’s the only way. The only way is to stay silent.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. That touch seemed to say so much more than any words could.
“Reluctantly she squeezed back. “Okay.”
He smiled, turned, and limped away.
Jenny went up the fire escape hoping that its rusty creaking would not wake her mum. She went in by the fire escape door, which of course should shut from the outside but was broken so did not. She unlocked their front door and crept in, then made certain this time that she had locked it. She checked on her mum who was still asleep. Grief and worry had tired her out. Feeling exhausted, Jenny went back to bed. She did not think she would sleep despite being so tired, but once again she was wrong. She slept well, although she had many strange dreams.
The Grey Knight
Jenny woke and looked at her bedside alarm clock. It was twelve in the afternoon. Luckily it was a school holiday or she would have been in trouble. She got up and padded to her mum’s bedroom and peeked through the crack of her bedroom door. The blue curtains were drawn, her bed made. Jenny went to the kitchen. On the fridge was stuck a green frog magnet along with Peter’s latest school drawing of a bright red dragon. She saw a note in her mum’s handwriting, more of a scrawl than usual. It read: Gone to work. Police after. Left money for pizza. Love you, Mum.
Jenny smiled. She could read between the lines. Pizza was a special treat for them all. Her mum was saying, I want to be with you but I cannot because I am looking for Peter.
Jenny reached for her mobile to ring her mum and tell her there was hope, that she was going to get Peter back, despite what she had promised White. Then she realised what she had suspected at the time, but not had time to check; her phone was broken.
It’s going to take me ages to earn enough to get another. I am ribbed enough at school already. I will never hear the end of it when it comes out I do not have a mobile. She did not like using the home phone. She reckoned it was more expensive, but this was serious. As she reached for the house phone she saw her palm. The scar had completely disappeared, she had checked before she went to bed last night. But now it burnt and flashed at her, then faded again. Although it had only been for a minute, the pain had been excruciating. It had filled the entire world. Jenny could tell that was but a fraction of what she would feel if she broke her oath. It was also warning her that she could lose Peter if she rang Mum.
“White, you’re right, Mum would think me mad, damn you.” Hating herself she burst into tears.
After wiping the tears from her face she pulled herself off the floor where she had collapsed when the pain kicked in. Moving with aching muscles she got dressed in her old clothes and cleaned the flat. That took a while but there was still time to kill so she started some math homework. She hated math but she needed something to take her mind off things, and nothing did that like trying to do algebra. She rang, ordered and ate a quarter of a delicious double pepperoni pizza, Peter’s favourite, leaving the rest in the fridge for her mum. Then she took a shower. Not knowing what she would be facing tonight, she decided to wear black jeans, a t-shirt, sweatshirt and trainers.
As the fingers of night started to creep over the land she left a note on the fridge: Mum, am having a sleep over at Deborah’s. Will be back tomorrow morning. She thought, Hope you do not check up, Mum. Deborah hates my guts and will not cover for me, but I cannot think of a better excuse.
She locked the front door and pushed open the fire escape door, clambering down the creaky, rickety fire escape. Crouched on his level of the escape was White. He was wearing black jeans and a large shapeless t-shirt. His feet were in what looked like authentic grey moccasins decorated with abstract patterns in black thread. On his back was a large grey rucksack.
“Well met. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“To rescue your brother.”
“Her breath caught. “Rescue him from what?”
“Trolls, of course.”
“Trolls?”
“If we are lucky trolls are all we will need to deal with.”
“There is worse?”
“I hope you do not have to find out.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
“Probably. Does that matter?” he asked.
“I will do anything to get him back.”
“That’s what I hoped you would say. What are you wearing?”
She described her clothes. “Why?”
“Just checking. We may need clothing that will blend in with the dark. Here, put this on.” He handed her the large voluminous trench coat he had been wearing last night. It smelt of animals and wood smoke.
“It’s not my style. Besides which, I have my cheap copy of a leather jacket.”
“Please, just put it on. It may save your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never you mind. Please, just trust me, child. There are many things in my world that you do not know about or understand. Please, just do as I ask you, okay?”
There was an intense look on his face and eyes that Jenny did not like. For just a moment he looked ancient and feral. It was just for a moment and must have been a trick of the light or something. Not wanting to argue with him she put on the huge coat over her jacket, hoping the smell would not transfer. It swamped her.
“Come, Softy will soon be awake.”
The Shrine
They entered the place the same way they had the night before. The same stone troll was on the welcome desk.
“Softy has asked that you meet him at the shrine,” he rumbled. Reaching forward he opened the doors for them. This time Jenny was watching closely when he touched the doors. She could not be certain but she thought he touched different parts of the doors this time.
Jenny and White stepped through and they swung shut. Jenny had expected the corridor she had been in before but to her surprise she found herself outside. She looked around her and beginning to become disturbed looked behind her.
“White, where are the doors? Come to that, where is the building?”
“What do you see?” White asked seeming more interested than worried.
“We are somehow in the middle of a wood somewhere in the middle of The Roaches.”
“You’re right, how do you know that?”
“My dad used to bring us here for long Sunday walks before, before he died.”
“I am sorry, I did not know that. What did he die from?”
“He was in the Navy. His ship’s engine exploded.”
“I am sorry,” he said as a look flitted over his face. It was as if for just a moment the grief of all the world was in that face. Then it was gone and another expression flashed across his face before the mask was replaced with violent anger. “You’re lucky, at least you knew your father. I never did.”
“White, where are we?”
“We are where Softy said he would meet us, in the shrine.”
“But the doors, the building?”
“Look behind you, you will see the doors we came through.”
“There’s just a tree.”
“What kind of tree?” he asked patiently.
“I do not know, an oak?”
“Well
done. Do you know what the old people used to call oaks?”
“No.”
“They called them the tree of doors. They thought they were one of the ways to the other world, the land of fey. We came through that tree, believe it or not, and we will probably leave by that tree. Now come, we must find Softy. He will probably be by the statues of Grendel and his dam. Come, it’s this way. Look around if you like, but under no circumstances leave the ring of trees.”
“Why not, will I turn up in hell?” Jenny asked sarcastically.
“Yes, you might,” he answered with absolute seriousness. I know it’s difficult for you to accept much of this, but please take what I say as very important. It could literally make the difference between life and death. Come, it’s this way.”
He led to the left and as they walked Jenny realised that it was not a wood but a huge circle of trees. They looked as if they were natural and yet their pattern was ordered. There were two kinds, one after the other. One was laden with golden fruit and bright green leaves, the other naked and skeletal in their stark winter beauty.
“How can they be summer and winter at the same time?”
“This is the shrine. It’s grey. It’s both Summer and Winter Courts. The trees symbolise that. All may come here and worship. Only blood willingly sacrificed to the goods may be spilt here. Even the trees themselves are worshipped, see the tributes?”
Objects were wrapped around the trunks, dangling from the branches and laid at their roots. Some were expensive silver and gold chains decorated with green, red, black, and white stones, some crude looking, made of wood, bone and even woven dried grasses and leaves. Most of these bedecked trees were inside the ring rather than on the circle itself. There were also sculptures of dragons, centaurs, the fey and symbols of the four elements.
They approached two sculptures that were on their own. Softy was kneeling in front of one of them. Actually there were three, but two were together and the third separate. The separate one was hard to make out.