Softy the Troll Page 4

  “I can feel your tension, what is it?”

  “The statue.”

  “I thought so. It often has that effect on people. Even I feel its power and I cannot see it. What do you see?”

  “It’s man height and yet it seems huge. It’s made out of some kind of black stone unlike anything I have seen before. Not that I am an expert, but it does not look like something that would exist in my world. It drinks in the light and yet shines with its own darkness. It looks a lot like the troll we met in the lobby.”

  “Portculiss.”

  “Yes, him, and yet it also seems different. It has features like the one that I dreamt about. It’s hard to make it out, as if the creature is meant to represent living shadow.”

  “How lyrical you’re becoming. You’re right, of course. It’s a representation of Grendel, the king and god of all trolls. Softy is probably kneeling in front of a similar but female statue.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Grendel’s dam with the damaged and beheaded body of Grendel in her lap.”

  “She looks as strong and tough as him.”

  “She was. She gave Beowulf a run for his money.”

  Softy got to his feet and came over to them.

  “We did not disturb your praying, did we?” asked White earnestly.

  “No, I am done. Come, we will go to my rooms.”

  “Please just give me a moment,” asked White.

  “Of course,” agreed Softy.

  White handed his cane to Softy and slowly stepped forward until he gently bumped up against the female statue. He knelt before it and lay something at its base. Jenny could not tell what it was. He then went over to the other figure and did the same. While he was doing so she went to see what he had laid in front of the statue. It was a black stone in the shape of a teardrop. Even as she watched it slowly disappeared.

  “Where did it go?” she whispered to Softy.

  “It has been accepted by the goddess.”

  “White shuffled back to them, wiping tears from his eyes.

  “I did not know you were religious?”

  “There’s a lot you do not know about me, Amazon.”

  “Come, we must go.” Softy walked up to one of the summer trees and to Jenny’s disbelief he walked straight through it as if it was not there.

  “How did he do that?”

  “He imagined, he believed. I told you when we were in the lift. Forget what you think you know.”

  “You’re asking me to walk through a tree as if it’s not there?”

  “No, I am asking you to trust me.”

  Trust you, I hardly know you, Jenny thought.

  “Come, take my hand,” he said holding out his hand, with such a look of pleading mixed with friendship that she could not help but take it.

  “Come, just put one foot in front of the other.”

  Not believing what she was doing she did as she was told. They approached the tree and Jenny wanted to stop when it looked as if they would crash into it, but they did not. Before she could stop they were passing through the huge heavy trunk of the tree as if it was not there. They passed into a spinning whirlpool of colours. The smell of tree sap and new and old leaves filled Jenny’s nose. She felt as if she was swimming through tar. Then they were again standing in one of the corridors of this strange place.

  “Why was it different the second time?”

  “Because you were not expecting it the first time so there was no need for interface,” White explained cryptically.

  Softy took them through the twisting corridors to his suite of rooms. They were large and spacious, decorated with wallpaper covered with trees of every kind. There were also many potted and hanging plants dotted about the big room. Despite their many sweet and fragrant scents the room still smelt stuffy and stale. Softy lit a strong joss stick candle on a low coffee table next to his elbow but it did not do much to mask the smell.

  They were all seated on a long and comfortable settee covered in a green and gold leaf fabric and facing a large Adam fireplace which was decorated with entwined animals of the wood, continuing the wood theme. A cosy fire crackled in it, the firelight reflected in the bronze wolf sculptures sitting on the hearth. The smell of the cedar wood drove away more of the stale air. Jenny sat on the settee uncomfortably, not because the settee was uncomfortable, it wasn’t, and therein lay the problem. She was not used to all this posh expensive stuff.

  W had taken off his moccasins and was curling his bare toes in the thick deep green moss like carpet.

  Softy sat on the settee just as nervously as Jenny, she did not know why.

  “Would you like some sherry or something?”

  “That’s kind of you Softy, but we do not have time for niceties. Can you help us or not?” asked W, his face earnest.

  “Yes, I can,” he said, his voice and huge hands trembling.

  W reached out over Jenny’s lap and gently stroked the back of Softy’s hand. “It’s all right, Sof, I do not want you to fight them. I will do that. All I want you to do is find him. Can you do that?”

  “Probably. Do you have something belonging to your brother?” he asked Jenny unwillingly.

  “No, I do not.”

  “I took the liberty,” said White, reaching into his rucksack and pulling out what looked like one of Peter’s blue bed sheets.

  Softy took it and sniffed it delicately with his hooked nose.

  Jenny looked on unbelieving. What’s he going to do, sniff his way across town?

  W smiled as if he could read her mind. He was probably just guessing what she was thinking, wasn’t he?

  The whole of Softy’s huge body stiffened. “The black rook has hold of the white pawn. He holds it at the command of the black king and queen. They want the grey knight to become black again.” As he spoke his voice was deeper than Jenny had heard it before, as if it was speaking from a depthless well or out of the pits of hell.

  “Where precisely is the white pawn being kept, can you tell us that?” asked W in a rush as if he was speaking on a phone and the credit was about to run out.

  “He is being held in the royal quarters of the Winter Court.” Softy relaxed, sweat pouring down his face. Despite this Jenny could feel him shivering next to her.

  W again reached into the bottomless rucksack and after rummaging in it for quite a while he pulled out an old, battered and tarnished silver hip flask. “Here, give me that sheet and have this. Take just a nip though, it’s strong stuff.”

  Softy did as he was instructed. The look that passed across his face was one of wonder. “Nectar from the Summerlands, how did you get hold of it?”

  “I was given it as a reward for a service I did the Summer Court a long, long time ago,” W replied, a wistful smile flitting across his face. Softy passed the flask back to Jenny who passed it to White.

  “Have a taste, but just a small one. It’s very, very powerful stuff to those not used to it.”

  She sniffed the open hip flask. It smelt sweet and floral like honey, green grass new cut and jasmine. She took a tentative taste. it was somehow hot and cold at the same time and was like tasting summer sunlight. The room swayed around her and for just a moment she could have sworn that the summer sun shone down on her.

  “Here, eat this, food helps,” said White taking the flask off her and handing her a bowl of fruit from the rucksack.

  Without thinking she chose a lustreless red apple and took a big bite. Suddenly ravenous she ate the apple, then devoured an entire bunch of black grapes.

  “What did I say?” asked Softy.

  “You do not know?” asked Jenny.

  “No, I never remember what happens when I have visions.”

  “It was some gibberish about chess,” explained Jenny.

  White repeated what Softy had said.

  “But what does it mean?” asked Jenny.

  “It means that Peter is being held by and in the Winter Court.”

  Softy’s big gentle eyes went wide wi
th fear and horror, understanding what he had said. “Then there is no hope,” he said with the finality of a car crash.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There is no way that we can get your brother out of the Winter Court if they do not want to let him go,” explained Softy, reaching out instinctively, trying to comfort her.

  She brushed away his hand, angry at the pity in his eyes, although his touch was strangely pleasant.

  “You cannot just give up. You promised you would get him back.”

  “We will.” W spoke with certainty in his voice.

  “How, Ambassador? Even you cannot fight your way in, get the boy and fight your way out without you all getting killed or worse.”

  “I did not say anything about fighting. There are other ways.”

  “What other ways?” asked Jenny, clinging to even the ghost of a chance.#

  “I could give them something more valuable to them than an innocent. I could give them what they want.”

  Jenny cast her eye over the albino dressed in threadbare, ill fitting clothes.

  “Do what so few people do, Amazon. Learn to judge a book by its contents, not by its cover. In your world things might be what they seem, but in our world nothing is what it seems,” he said to her sadly as if he could guess her doubts that he had anything to bargain with.

  Softy’s eyes went even wider and he spread his arms wide, jumping up. “You cannot mean?”

  “I do,” interrupted W.

  “But all your work? Your life’s work. That will all be lost.”

  “I may no longer be able to do my work, but the work will go on,” soothed W, stroking Softy’s shoulders, then giving him a big hug. The gesture seemed less like that of old friends and more like that of old lovers. Jenny, to her deep surprise, felt a jolt of jealousy. Why would she be jealous? Surely she could not have any kind of feelings for the monster, could she? No, of course not, he was an ugly monster with fangs and claws. No, there was no way she could fancy him, could she? But what about that touch, asked her treacherous thoughts. Keep your mind on the job, Jenny. Finding Peter is the only thing that matters.

  “Thank you, Softy, you are a lifesaver. I would love to stay and hear you sing but we must be going,” said W rising to his feet.

  Softy looked at White, then at Jenny. “You’re determined to do this?”

  “Yes,” said White firmly.

  “Yes,” said Jenny, not even knowing what she was getting herself into.

  “You do not even know what you’re getting yourself into!” he exclaimed as if reading her thoughts.

  “That does not matter, I have to get Peter back.”

  “That’s right, so come, Jenny, we must be going.”

  Softy’s eyes rapidly swivelled from one of them to the other. His throat clicked. A large vein pulsed in his forehead. He closed his green eyes. “Very well, I will come with you and do all I can do to help, but I cannot fight. I am sorry, but I cannot,” he exclaimed shuddering. The very thought of it seemed to make him sick.

  “No, my friend, you must not. The less damage the better,” protested W.”

  “I said it and I mean it. I owe you everything. I will come with you, my mind is made up. If you will not have me willingly I will follow you anyway and get into trouble which you will have to get me out of. So you might as well just accept I am coming with you.”

  “Thank you, my friend, this means more than I can say,” exclaimed White with deep feeling, giving Softy a bone cracking bear hug.

  “Put him down W, you will break something,” said Jenny, pleased that he would be coming with them.

  Safety in numbers, that’s all, she thought to the unasked question.

  “So now we are all agreed that Softy is coming along, now what? White, White?” Jenny stared at the blind man. Had he gone to sleep after sitting back down on the couch? That was what it looked like, although did blind people go to sleep with their eyes open? She did not think so, but she did not know. “White, are you awake?”

  “I am now. As to your question, I was just answering it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We should go bed.”

  “No way.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he interrupted her angry tirade, bringing a cheeky smile to Softy’s face. “I was communicating with the Winter Court’s major-domo, trying to get us an urgent audience with the Court.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jenny not understanding.

  “I used telepathy,” explained White patiently. “Usually it would have taken us hours discussing art, literature, court politics and court gossip, but no, he came straight to the point.”

  “The juggler of heads came straight to the point?”

  “Yep.”

  “I cannot believe it.”

  “I know, but he seemed to know why I was there and told me that we could attend the Royal Court at its pleasure next Sunday night.”

  “Next Sunday? That’s too late, can’t we go now?” Jenny knew she sounded like and was acting like a spoiled little girl but she could not help herself.

  “I know this is probably no help, but believe it or not this is incredibly fast for them. The king and queen of the Winter Court are famous for keeping petitioners waiting months, sometimes years to be seen.”

  “But you seemed in a real hurry to find out what had happened to Peter as if it was dangerous to Peter to waste time.” Jenny shuddered at that thought.

  “And it was, for all I knew Shadow had taken your brother for torture or eating.” He squeezed her hand as he said this trying to reassure her.

  She glared at him. angry that he had not told her of these possibilities before. Then she remembered that he was blind.

  “Now we know they want him for ransom, so despite the fact that time away from your bambino brother is most upsetting we know he will be taken care of.”

  “Do we? I have only your word for that haven’t I? For all I know this is some con. I have no idea what kind of con. Oh, okay, then not a con. This is all too real to be a normal trick, but still all I have to go on is what you tell me. I have not a clue who, or I cannot believe I am saying this, what you are. Why should I trust you?” She stopped then, knowing she had gone too far. White did not shout or hit her. He did not even move and yet suddenly there was a tension in the stuffy air that had not been there before.

  For once W’s eyes were open and the firelight seemed to be caught in them, turning them from pink to bright crimson. His shadow lengthened, making it seem huge, and for just a moment Jenny could have sworn that she could see the fire through White. But that must have been a trick of her eyes or something. Hang on, W was standing in front of the fire? When had he stood up, let alone moved in front of the fire? Jenny could have sworn he had been sitting next to her only a moment ago.

  Then the tension, whatever that had been, was gone. W padded towards her, his bare feet making no noise on the thick carpet. He moved slowly and for just a moment Jenny felt like she was being stalked by some great cat, but he smiled and then he was harmless again.

  Wasn’t he?

  Jenny could not keep up, he was like Jekyll and Hyde. One moment he was nice and the next he was frightening. He bent over her and fumbled on her knee until he found her hand. He reached it up to his mouth and gave the back of her hand a kiss. His lips were warm and his beard scratchy.

  “You are wise to be cautious, you’re swimming in deep, dark waters. I am sorry for all this distress. If it was how I would wish it you would have to deal with none of this, but it is not so. As to proof that what I and Softy here tell you is the truth I have none. I can only beg with all sincerity that you do believe us, for Peter’s sake.”

  There was such feeling in his voice that Jenny felt despite the doubts screaming in the back of her head that he was telling her the truth.

  “Very well, we will do it your way. A few more nights, but if you do not take me to Peter then I do not know how, but I will make you sorry.” Jenny could
hear the unlikelihood that she could make good on her threat in her voice and was sure they could too.

  “If that does not happen, I assure you, Amazon, nothing you could do would make me feel worse than I would feel at having failed your family. Come, Jenny, we must go. It will be dawn soon.”

  Reluctantly, Jenny followed W to the door.

  “Wait, where shall we meet tomorrow night?” asked Softy.

  “Where we first met.”

  “The fey faire?”

  W nodded.

  “Very well, since we are meeting there what about supplies?”

  “I will get those,” answered White.

  Once again they wound their way through the corridors and back to White’s fire escape.

  “Meet me here tomorrow night and we will get your brother back. I swear that I will get your brother back. I swear it by my true name.” As he said this his words seemed to carry more weight than normal. They thudded into the silence as if they were heavier than bricks.

  “I thought we could not do anything until we see this Court thing?

  “There is much that can happen between then and now.”

  “There might be other ways we can get Peter back?”

  “Are you willing to take them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, now go to bed. You will need all the sleep you can get,” answered White.

  The Fey Market

  Jenny spent a miserable night tossing and turning. She woke and went to check on her mother who was dead to the world, having cried herself to sleep again. Jenny crept back out of the room. It was Saturday with a whole week yet to wait, hopefully Mum would sleep most of the morning. Jenny knew that White would tell her not to, but she did not know how long this would take. She could not just disappear on her mum as well, that would kill her.

  After having a small part of the cold double pepperoni pizza from last night — ugh, she could not believe Peter preferred it this way — she crept around the flat, making some sandwiches and a flask of coffee and changing from her sky blue pyjamas into black jeans, black t-shirt, a dark blue sweatshirt, black trainers and her black fake leather jacket. She put her supplies into a battered grey battered rucksack, similar to Whites but no way as big or as apparently bottomless.