Softy the Troll Page 5

  She was pleased that Mum had not got up yet. She would have wanted to know what Jenny was doing. She was also worried. Her mum never slept this long and late. She checked on her again, finding her still deeply asleep. Jenny began to worry more, then something flashed in the corner of her eye, something on her dressing table that reflected in the mirror. It was an old fashioned glass bottle, with a hand written label in old fashioned lettering that said it was sleeping tablets.

  Jenny realised that was why she was still asleep, but where had she gotten them? You did not get tablets in glass bottles any more, did you? At least that explained the long sleep and that she was only sleeping. Her loud snores proved that. Just to make sure, Jenny crept over to the table and opened the bottle. As far as she could tell only a few tablets had been taken. Mum would not overdose, would she? Should she throw them away? No, she was being silly. If they were giving Mum some peace, then Jenny could not take them.

  “I will get him back, Mum, I promise.”

  Jenny moved soundlessly, blowing her mother a kiss. She then wrote a note and stuck it on the fridge door over the one from last night. Had Mum even read it?

  Mum, do not worry, I have gone with friends on a school camping trip. Someone bailed out so I do not have to pay. May have to stay over with them. My phone is broken so I will phone you.

  Please do not worry, I am safe.

  She hoped the last was not a lie. She did not know either of her very strange guides very well. She did not think they would deliberately harm her but that did not mean they might not get her into trouble without meaning to.

  “I will get Peter back, Mum, I swear it,” she promised under her breath.

  She locked the front door, pocketed the key and went down the fire escape to White’s floor. Why am I using the fire escape this time? The lift, as usual, was broken but there was nothing wrong with the stairs. He had told her to meet him on the fire escape last night but he had not said anything about tonight. So why tonight? If I tell anyone they would think it silly. It felt like it would be bad luck not to go down the fire escape on these secret visits to White. As usual, the fire escape door was wedged open. Jenny was surprised that George, their landlord, allowed this. She was certain that should not be allowed. Then again, White clearly had more money than living here suggested. Did he bribe George to allow this?

  She knocked on White’s door. There was no answer. She knocked again.

  “Who is it?” came a deep, cavernous voice she did not know.

  “Jenny.”

  “Jenny who?”

  “Jenny Charity. White, are you there? I know it’s a long time before nightfall but I just cannot wait up in my room alone. The temptation to tell Mum is too great,” she lied.

  The door opened and the biggest man she had ever seen literally filled the doorway. He seemed to be nothing but huge, rippling, bulging muscles wrapped in deep golden skin. He had a long mane and bushy mat of chest hair, all bright gold and which she could see because all he wore was a bedsheet wrapped around his middle.

  “I am so sorry, I was looking for White. He still lives here doesn’t he?” she asked in sudden panic. What would she do if he just vanished?

  “Who do you want?” he asked in a hoarse whisper that still seemed to boom through the hall.

  “Mr White.

  “I do not know anyone by that name.”

  For just a moment, Jenny’s heart seemed to stop.

  “She means me, Gold. Please let her in,” came White’s voice from within the room.

  Jenny’s world restarted.

  The big hunk looked her up and down with a pair of golden eyes and then reluctantly moved aside. Jenny squeezed past. White was lying on the low bed-futon thing. He had drawn the other sheet over his body. Jenny thought he was naked under the sheet.

  She looked at White and then at the golden god, and blushed bright red. “I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt, erm, anything.”

  White gave her a sad, sleepy smile. “That’s all right, Jenny, Gold was just about to leave, weren’t you? Jenny, could you please make us some tea while Gold and I get dressed.”

  Trying not to blush again Jenny went into his kitchen. It was small, but compact. She went over to the grey stone counter and filled the kettle, putting it on to boil. She took three mugs off the wooden mug tree. It was intricately carved to look like a hydra and looked like it had been carved from a portrait of the hydra in the library. If it moves I’m squishing it with the kettle, she thought irrationally. Opening cupboard doors in search of tea she found many things. There were dried herbs in clay jars, lots of tinned food, and finally a cupboard full of more colourful clay jars full of all kinds of different flavoured teas. She did not know which to choose so she just grabbed three teabags and dumped them into three mugs. Adding sugar and milk she placed them on a garish green plastic tray with red flowers and brought it through to the main room. There was no one there.

  “W, where are you?”

  “I am in the garden,” came his voice from another room.

  “Garden, what garden? The flats do not have a garden.”

  “Oh, don’t they?” came his cryptic reply.

  Jenny pushed through another paper screen decorated with cherry trees to find herself in a garden. The room was filled wall to wall with plants of every kind. Large sun lamps hung from the ceiling. All kinds of colours and scents washed over her.

  “White, where are you in all this?”

  “By the wall.”

  The voice came from her left. She turned to see him hunched on a long bench, blinking owlishly with sleep. He was now wearing the same clothes as last night.

  “Where is your, er, friend?”

  “He had to leave.”

  “Oh, but I’ve made him a cup of tea.”

  “Oh, sorry, I should have told you. Can you drink both?”

  “No.”

  “Well I can, give them here.”

  She placed them next to him. “Here, give me your hand.”

  He groped out in her direction, and gently taking his crooked, spidery hand she guided it to the teas.

  “Thank you. Please sit down.”

  She did so. “So, what is all this? You’re not growing weed, are you?”

  “Would it bother you if I was? Would you want some if I was?” he asked, a grin flitting across his face.

  “No to the first and I do not know about the second,” she answered truthfully.

  “No, just herbs, some for cooking and some for healing. There is nothing here that could not be found in a herbal store on the High Street,” he answered.

  “Is this the work you and Softy were talking about?”

  “Part of it.”

  “What is your work?”

  “I am the ambassador-liaison between the Summer and Winter Courts and the many other magical peoples and groups.”

  Jenny stared at him.

  “What, you do not believe me? You do not believe in magic people after all you have seen?”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s just I, I find it hard picturing you as an ambassador.”

  “That’s one of the things I despair of in humans. When will you learn not to judge someone by what they look like?” For just a moment there was that flash of red in the pink eyes, but then he reached out a hand towards her. She flinched instinctively, not believing he would strike her but not being able to help herself. All he did was stroke her knee. “Sorry, Amazon, an old bad memory. I suppose I should be pleased that my disguise is so good. But sweet one, you must learn to not judge someone by what they look like. Where we are going many of the people we will meet are skilled in glamour, the art of illusion.”

  Jenny did not know what to say to that so she said nothing and just drank her tea, her eyes drawn to the many pretty shapes and colours of the flowers.

  He drank both teas, slurping them with obvious enjoyment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out an old fashioned and battered pocket watch. He pressed its stud and the f
ace of the watch flipped open. He reached in with one long hairy finger and ran it over the face of the watch. It said five p.m.

  “Come, we must go, it will be dusk soon and Softy will be waiting for us.

  He put down the mugs and reached for his white cane and Jenny’s hand. They walked out of the flower room and back into the main room. By the front door was the big rucksack. W reached down and shrugged it onto his shoulders. He reached for the big trench coat hanging on a coat peg on the back of the front door and passed it to Jenny. She considered leaving it behind and just telling him she was wearing it, he would never know. It was heavy, smelly and itchy. Then for some reason she did not understand she put it on.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the fey market.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Wherever it is.”

  “That’s no kind of answer.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No, it’s just that’s the answer. The market moves, depending on the time of year, the phase of the moon, all kinds of things.”

  “So how do we find it?”

  “We do not. It will find us.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Magic is not always understandable. Sometimes you must not question it, but just let it work.”

  “So we just walk around all night hoping to find it?” asked Jenny, despair settling around her like a damp cloak.

  “Something like that,” came the sad, smiling reply. “Do not worry, Amazon, it’s not as much left to chance as it seems. Has White led you astray yet?”

  “Well, no.” Jenny did not want to mention that talking about oneself in the third person was not a good basis for building trust.

  “Then come with me. I am sought by the market.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I bring it a lot of profit. Now come, we have much to do.” He took her arm and they went out of the flat. “Walk us to the bottom of the fire escape and we will take it from there.”

  “Aren’t you going to lock your door?”

  “No.”

  “What about thieves?”

  “Not only do I not have anything worth stealing, but most of the people who would want to get in would not be stopped by a door and lock, although most fey cannot enter a home without permission.”

  “What about the one that took Peter?”

  “Unfortunately, trolls are one of the few beings that magic does not affect.”

  “W, why are you holding onto my arm? I mean, it’s not like I mind it or anything, but usually you move around here like you can see.”

  “The market will find me, but not you. If I hold onto you it will find both of us. For now, just keep walking.”

  They walked along the street, heading away from the centre of town. The sun fell past the line of the world. Jenny expected something would happen then but nothing did. The moon slowly crept into the sky. They had made it into the countryside. It felt like they had been walking for hours and she wanted to ask White if they could stop for a rest. Suddenly Jenny felt the whole world spin. She reached out to grip something to stop her from falling. Her hand touched something smooth but hard. She gripped it, not knowing why. Fingers gripped her back.

  “I was beginning to worry you were not coming,” came Softy’s voice. Jenny realised she was holding his hand tightly. She gave him a friendly squeeze and then let go, feeling confused by the amount of loss she felt. Blushing and embarrassed, she turned away and her eyes went wide at the wonders that lay before her.

  She was surrounded by colourful booths and tents, jampacked with strange objects, being sold by all manner of strange people. All kinds of foreign tongues reached her ears. Shouts echoed, down the stalls and whispers snatched at her ears. Strange exotic scents filled her nose, the smells of cinnamon, ginger, cloves, lavender and many other spices she could not identify or had ever smelt before. For reasons she could not explain it all felt very familiar. The smell of strange perfumes, soap and unwashed bodies, and the scent of animals, mulled wine and all kinds of food washed over her.

  W gave Softy a large hug, then slipped his arms through theirs.

  “Have either of you eaten?” Softy asked.

  “Yes,” answered Jenny.

  “No,” said White.

  “Come then, I will buy us something that we can eat while we go around the fair.”

  “Thank you, that is very kind but it’s not necessary,” protested Jenny.

  “Please, I do not like arguing with people, please just let me. I enjoy it.”

  “But I have already eaten.”

  “I know, but we do not know when we might be able to eat again for some time,” Softy said gently.

  Before Jenny could say anything more he had slipped out of White’s grip and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Come, Jenny, we are running out of time. Honestly, she is stingy with it isn’t she?”

  “Who is stingy with what?”

  “Lady time. She could give us more of it but no, she has to keep it all to herself. I had not better moan too much, the last thing we need is her taking offence and giving us even less than we should have.”

  “Old father time is real?”

  “Lady time, yes, and I hope we do not meet her. She is, erm, sensitive.”

  Silk

  “The first thing is to get you a dress.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with these? There’s no way I am wearing a dress,” said Jenny jutting out her chin.

  “I am sure there is nothing wrong with what you are wearing, but if you want to be seen by the Winter Court you will have to wear something they find appropriate. I am sorry, I know you value your tomboy status, but if we do not seem to be showing proper respect they will never help us and without their help we will not get very far.”

  “What about you? I do not want to hurt your feelings W, but your clothes are worse than mine.”

  “I keep telling you, do not judge things by what they look like. What you see is not what Softy or the rest of the people here see. You know me as White, so that’s what you see me as. They see me as the Ambassador.”

  Before Jenny could protest or ask him what he looked like to the others he pulled her towards a bright pink tent just in front of them. As they pushed through the door flap a bell over the entrance rang. The strangest monkey Jenny had ever seen stepped into view. It was the same height as Jenny, but that was probably the most normal thing about it. For starters, her fur was the same bright pink as the tent and the loose dress she was wearing. But the strangest thing about her was the four extra arms that poked out of the expertly modified sleeves of her dress.

  “Ambassador, it has been too long. How are you?” asked the monkey, not in a high chittering voice like you would expect, but in a deep, almost masculine one.

  “Well, thank you. I’m known at the moment as White. Please call me that, or W,” he said quickly interrupting her before she could utter any other word.

  “Of course, W, and who is this nice young human you have with you that is gawping at me so prettily?”

  Jenny had not realised she had been gawping.

  “This is Jenny Charity, my ward. Please forgive her staring, she has only recently become my ward and our world is very new and strange.”

  “I completely understand. I was just the same when I first visited the human world.”

  “Jenny, this is Lady Sersey Irer Larl Kark, or Lady Silk as she is also known. Silk is the best clothes maker in all the worlds.”

  “Why White, you’re too kind. Although I do say it myself, no one does make better clothes than me. Now, what kind of gown will you or your ward be wanting?” she asked, her eyes roving over their clothes, letting out a disapproving sigh.

  “My ward and I have the honour of being granted an audience with the king and queen of the Winter Court, but alas my ward has been out in the country for some time and she is out of touch with the newest fas
hions, so of course we have come to you.”

  “How kind of you to choose my humble shop for such an honour. If I might measure the young lady?”

  “Of course,” said White sitting down on a bench he must have known about from other visits, judging by the ease with which he found it.

  Jenny looked around for a booth or at least a curtain to undress behind. Instead, the strange dresser pulled out a short silver wand and proceeded to slowly draw it over Jenny from head to toe.

  “Thank you, miss, that’s all I need.” She twirled the wand in her hand and a hologram appeared above it. From Jenny’s perspective, looking at the back of it, it looked like parchment with strange symbols written on it in silver ink. The spirals reminded Jenny of the symbol W had cut into her palm.

  The lady started speaking in a strange language. Although it was less sibilant than White’s had been Jenny guessed it was also a spell. “Resser risr rlardar rinr rar resser trarrart rirr rer roottaber reroor rer rinter rortr.”

  A dark blue mist blew out of the strange monkey’s mouth and flowed around Jenny’s body. She instinctively stiffened.

  “Relax, sweet lady, it will not hurt you,” soothed Silk.

  Instead of feeling cold and damp it was soft, dry and warm. Jenny looked down to see what was clinging to her. Wrapped around her was a beautiful dark blue dress that somehow both clung to her and yet still floated about her.

  “Here dear, look at it in this.” With another wave of the wand a silver smoke came out and hardened into a full length mirror that floated in front of Jenny. Jenny looked in the mirror and did not recognise herself. The young lady standing in the mirror was tall, thin and graceful.

  “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, dearie. Anything for the ambassador. Do you wish to wear it out of here or would you like a box to take it away in?”

  “A box please, Silk,” spoke up W.

  “If you would be so kind to just wait here for a moment I will get one from the back.” She turned and sashayed through a many coloured glittering beaded curtain.

  “White, I cannot afford this,” Jenny hissed to White, embarrassed to have to admit it but feeling she should be truthful with this strange man who had shared so much with her.