The Toll (24 page)

Frowning, I tried again and repeated
them out loud anyways, a sense of deja vu washing over me at the
familiar rhythm and odd sounds they made.

It made me think of last night, to the
last time we’d... well, you know. I refused to use the L word
anymore, as far as he’s mentioned. Absolutely refused.

He’d been even more, uhm, exuberant
than before, more tenacious, fervent in his efforts, chanting
something under his breath as he took me roughly, over and over,
mumbling something that sounded strangely like the funny words
scribbled crookedly, hastily, on the page.

Trying one last time, I repeated them
just like he had, singing them softly and slowly, as if they were a
song.

A sharp, white hot pain shot through
my shoulder blades as the last words slipped past my lips, bringing
me to my knees.

Shrieking, I cried out and let it turn
into a scream as my flesh burned as if it had caught fire, as if
someone was trying to stab me with a hot poker, shooting up across
my arms and down my back.

When the worst of it subsided, I
crumpled and rolled over onto my side, touching my enflamed skin
gingerly.

It didn’t hurt as I touched it, but
the skin felt raised, welted.

In fact, as I pulled my sleeve down to
examine my pale flesh, I found a series of intricate black scroll
work, exactly like Troll’s, covering every inch. Mine was raised
and red around the edges, fresh as if it had just been branded into
me. I whimpered and carefully put my sleeve back in place, hauling
myself up on shaky legs.

The paper, which had fluttered to the
floor, looked different now.

Shuffling towards it, I picked it up
and my chest cracked, everything inside of me suddenly growing
cold, as if my heart had finally caved, inevitably turning to
stone.

There were no tears as I read over the
bright red words, as if they were written in blood. I didn’t read
it aloud this time, either.

Cursed is thee who gives
too free.

Doubly cursed are ye who
too freely take, yet never give.

Cross a troll—pay a
toll

Cross him twice—pay a
price

Sacrifice, a virgin’s
given

Gift of the bonded, submit
within

Take the source, claim it
wise

Repercussions never
bias

Do to ye as does to thee,
never harm and never flee

Feel it ill, sicken
still

The body lives, the mind
divides

Heed the warning, claiming
Ornthren

Distance weakens, minds do
forth rend

Take the organ, keep it
safe

Ignore the missive, reap
the fate

No toll will save a bonded
break.

“
Gibberish!” I huffed,
reading it over once more. “How is this supposed to explain
anything?!” My thoughts had turned to Troll and all that hogwash
about talking things over in the morning. “This,” I waved the paper
around wildly, “is supposed to explain everything?
This?”

Crumpling it, I stuffed it into my
dress pocket and reached out for the bag, fingers trembling madly
as I carefully untied the twine.

Reaching my hand in slowly, I came
into contact with something cool and flat, a bag full of them, I
discovered as my fingertips smoothed across several more. Pulling
one out, I gasped, finding a gold coin, turning it over and over in
my hands.

“
What in the name of...”
Reaching back inside, I pulled out another. Curling my fingers over
it, my lips thinned and I thought of the note again, and the pain
and subsequent burns the words had caused me.

He left me, cursed me or
something, and gave me a sack of coins?

“
None of this makes
sense.”
My voice came out shocked and
choked, exactly how I was feeling at the moment—beyond
mystified.

I searched around the empty
compartments, trying to find clues, any sign of something, anything
that might help me out here, something as to when he might possibly
be back.

“
You have a lot of
explaining to do,
Troll,”
I growled, stomping about angrily.

What did I ever do to
him?!
Why now? Why me?
I rallied, championing myself as I thought of all the
horrible things I’d like to do to him when I got my hands on
him.

It was growing chilly, the longer I
stayed here, and it wasn’t until I went to fetch my cape that I
noticed all of his trunks were gone.

My eyes scanned the room desperately,
the gravity of it all completely sinking in, and I felt my breath
leave me in a whoosh.

There were none. Not a single
one.

“
He left! I mean,
left-left!” My stomach knotted with dread and I stepped out into
the bright morning light, calling out for him frantically. He, of
course, didn’t answer. The coward had really, truly deserted me.
“That bastard!”

“
Willna be findin’ ‘im
here,” an equally deep but completely different voice boomed out
from somewhere up above me.

I turned towards the sound, cupping my
hands over my eyes to see a very wide, boxy looking dark grey
troll, a head shorter than my troll, and about that much wider,
watching me nonchalantly from his perch on the bridge.

His skin swirled with lighter black
designs, tinted with blue, more tightly grouped and intricately
woven, where mine were inky black and had more of a curl around the
ends, more spread out swirl. Mine were exactly like
Troll’s.

“
Where is he?” I didn’t
think for one minute he didn’t know. He’s obviously covering for
him or something.
Do trolls have other
trolls watch over their bridges when they aren’t around?
That train of thought only lasted for about a
moment. I had more important things to stew on.

“
Dunno,” he shrugged and
tossed something at me, “but he asked me ta give a
message.”

I caught the flying object before it
hit me square in the face, cradling it protectively to my chest as
I nodded and gestured for him to tell me.

He stared up at the blinding sunlight
for a moment, as if the day time light truly bothered him, and then
scratched at his chin, as if in thought. His muscles were much more
bunched, I noted as I stared up at him and waited, the ridges on
his spine much bonier and more pronounced. They looked like little
blunt spikes popping in a neat row.

“
He says he was sorry,
alright, sorry he ever laid eyes on ya, an’ I can say the second
part, seein’ as how ye were screamin’ an’ all that.” Grunting, he
motioned towards my arms. “Gave ye away.”

My lips pursed, unimpressed with his
lovely deduction.

“
Bektam, he says, ye’re
even.”

“
Bektam? That’s not
his-”

“
It is, an’ that’s all I’ll
be sayin’.” His words were harsh as he cut me off. “Ye know
otherwise, best no’ be repeatin’ it, little orange. Ye just go on
an’ forget now, an’ all’s well tha’ ends, an’ all tha’. Name’s a
powerful thing, it is. Woulda killed ye fer less.” He shook his
head in disgust, muttering under his breath, “Dinna know what the
blighter was thinkin’. Tuppin’ wit’ humans... He deserved it, he
did. Outwitted by a bit of orange fluff.” Snorting, his eyes
traveled up and down my length, as if I was filth, full, dark lower
lip curling up at the corner. “Dinna be gettin’ any ideas now,
thinkin’ ye’ll be safe. All’s will happen is paintin’ targets on
yer back fer blabbin’. Then ye’ll have ta worry ‘bout me too, no’
just yer slobberin’ bonded.”

“
Bonded? I
don’t...”

“
I’ve said me piece, an’
we’re done here. Dinna fancy a bit more. Never could abide the
likes of ye. Sniveling little pissers.” He sniffed disdainfully and
snorted, “Git on wit’ ya, now. Got better things ta do than toil
wit’ the likes of ye.”

I clenched the bag he’d tossed at me,
my fingers digging in, the tell-tale clink of coins causing me to
plop down on the ground and rip open the purple pouch, dumping it
out to find even more coins.

“
Oh,” the troll went on,
gesturing at the small fortune before me, “he also says ta tell ye
tha’ ye earned it.” With a leering snicker, he gave a mean chuckle
and eyed me one more time. “Every bleedin’ piece.”

The tears I thought I didn’t have,
came back, full force.

Earned every
piece...

As if I was a
whore.

My scream, as I hopped up and tossed
the pouch, startled the troll straddling the bridge so badly he
jerked, breaking the old rotting wood and tumbling him, head over
his overlarge feet, right into the river.

I screamed again, because it felt
good, tossing the coins in my hand at the shocked, now wet troll,
cursing him and all others of the male genital containing variety
to hell and back.

Shrieking like a banshee, I ran inside
and grabbed the bag I’d forgotten, running back out to toss that at
him too.

He bellowed at me as he tried to dodge
my well-aimed coins, clinking and clacking as they slapped against
him. Done with my tantrum, he roared out and made to charge me as
one hit him directly between the eyes, but the river rocks were
quite slippery and he tripped and fell back in.

Charging back into the space I’d
shared with that insufferable wretch for six miserable months, I
hurriedly snatched my things up.

Snarling under my breath, I ranted and
raved as I wrapped everything in one of my dresses, tying it in a
sturdy knot, my fuse properly lit, stomping out with my sack of
belongings slung over my back.

“
You tell that mangy, no
good, sorry excuse for a male that I hope he rots! He can take his
hush money and shove it up his lumpy, dimpled grey ass!! Call me a
whore! Gives me a rash! Acting crazy! Burn me!” My voice choked on
a gut wrenching sob, but I forced it back, letting my anger take
the lead. “Why, I’ll...”

The troll squinted up at me as he
resurfaced, wiping the water off of his face with a quick swipe of
his oversized hand.

“
Milady!” he shouted, and I
turned back around to face him, pausing in my little
diatribe.

I’m milady now?
How nice,
I thought
snidely.
Maybe if I bludgeon him he’ll
call me your majesty.

“
What?” I called
back.

“
A toll! Ye have ta...
bloody! Bleedin’!
OW!”

My locket hit him right in
the eye as I tore it off and threw it at him, giving it all I
had.
I hope it took out one of those
oversized, purple excuses for eyeballs,
I
thought angrily, glad as he splashed and cursed noisily from
somewhere off behind me. I didn’t care, and I didn’t turn back to
look.

“
Oh,” I shouted over my
shoulder, “and you can tell your friend I said to go fuck
himself!!
He
wasn’t worth a six pence!” Flinging my arm about wildly, I
smirked as he made a choking noise, never looking back once I’d
made it over the first hill.

No Place Like...

I wasn’t looking forward to
it at all as I walked the familiar path, headed back towards
home.
If it’s even proper to call it
that.

As I got closer, it really started to
sink in, everything that’s gone on in such a short period of time.
It left me feeling more worn and weary than I’d ever thought
possible, more than anything, or anytime, in my entire
life.

I dawdled, dreading an unwanted
reunion, but I had nowhere else to go.

So, I stalled, letting the day drag
on, hiding out into the fields by the little cottage my folks
called home.

Papa spotted me first as I slowly made
my way up the walk, the sun just about ready to set, greeting me
hesitantly, happily, his arms outstretching and then falling at his
sides, as if he wanted to embrace me but knew better.

“
I’m glad you came back,”
he said eventually, when I didn’t speak first.

“
He’s gone,” I
replied.

“
Who is... Oh, the troll!
He’s gone?”

I would have done anything
to hear and see him like this months ago, so pleased and eager,
genuinely happy to see me. Now, I just felt mildly surprised, and
surprisingly hollow.
I’m
empty
, I thought.
With no way to fill it.

Tilting my head, I nodded,
“Yes.”

“
He’s dead?” Papa eyed me
critically, as if to judge for a lie.

“
I don’t know.” Clearing my
throat audibly, I shrugged, feeling despondent. “He just left. I
really don’t know. I hope so,” I muttered.
For his sake.

Papa’s face lit up and he took my sack
from my hands.