The Toll (32 page)

Mamma came in soon after and had me
sip at some water. I protested, but she swore it was
necessary.

Too tired to fight her off, and
beginning to grow thirsty, I eventually nodded and let her help me
drink, my body too weak to hold the full cup up to my lips and not
slosh it about all over myself. The water tasted funny, bitter
almost, but she assured me it was fine.

She’s put something in
it
, I soon realized as I lay there, a
warm, fuzzy haze washing over me.

“
What... what did you...?”
I mumbled, not sure how much time had passed, but soon discovered
she had already taken the empty cup and quietly left the
room.
That’s one way of dealing with
me
, I thought churlishly.
Drug me up and keep me knocked out—then you won’t
have to listen to me or hear me whine.

The grogginess soon became too much to
fight, my limbs growing cumbersome and heavy, mind wandering as I
fell fitfully to sleep.

This lasted for a while, off and on,
until Mamma came in with another drink, and I, too out of it
realize what was going on, let her tend to me again, and dutifully
drank.

Time swept by in a collage of
nightmares and odd dreams, panicked screams and muffled shouts,
voices calling out to me, bellowing at me to wake, begging me to
come back to them, and hushed whispers, coaxing me back to
sleep.

Wide Open

Waking up slowly, my eyes flicked open
and I rolled over. Letting out a long breath, I sighed in relief as
the searing pains I’d thought would never end didn’t
come.

Testing out my limbs, I rubbed at my
eyes, my fingers slowly trailing down the curve of my neck. Letting
out a shaky breath, I closed my eyes as tears rushed them, the feel
of bumped up, raised skin throwing me into a fit of
melancholy.

What had happened, exactly, as a
result of Trystan attacking me, was still fuzzy, only the memory of
him forcing himself upon me, the pain that had inflicted, and then
nothing after that. I wished I had forgotten the entire
thing.

“
No,” my head shook slowly,
“I wish it had never happened in the first place.”

Something rattled as I moved, and I
frowned, patting myself down, fingers hitting several large lumps.
Plucking it up and away, I lifted withered cloves of garlic up,
strung loosely around my neck.

“
Oh, ick.” Nose bunching
distastefully, I gave an experimental sniff and quickly shucked the
garland, sending it flying towards the corner.
Why would someone have me wear that?
But then eyes widened as I got a good look around my room.
The window was sealed shut, crosses of every shape and size strung
up and hanging about everywhere. Strange painted symbols, a very
upsetting red, dripped down the walls sloppily, having dried that
way.
What is all this?
Mind whirling, I swallowed past the lump in my throat, hoping
that wasn’t animal blood painting the walls with strange, foreign
writing.

Unease settled into the pit of my
stomach, the longer I studied the strange markings. It soon got to
the point I thought I might become nauseous, the more I stared, and
I finally tore my eyes away.

Sitting up slowly, I peeled the sweat
soaked nightgown I was wearing off of my sticky skin, my hair
plastered around my head in frizzy, tangled orange
waves.

Little dried blossoms tumbled off of
me, and I grimaced, catching a hint of clove, along with the
remnants of what looked like a bundle of dried sage. Fingers
creeping forward, I picked one up and studied it.

How curious. Sage and
lavender?
Were they attempting to cleanse
the...

A squeak popped out of my mouth and I
shot up, stumbling about like a newborn fawn, knocking my hip on
the dresser. Little crosses tumbled over and off, smacking to the
ground as they toppled over from their propped up
positions.

A smudge stick, crosses,
garlic, candles everywhere...
Did they
think I was possessed?! Demonic? A vampire?

“
Is this a sick room or an
exorcism?” I mumbled, shocked.

Blowing out a long breath, I wiggled
my jaw around, my tongue thick and heavy, as if it was stuck to the
roof of my mouth. Listening intently for any noises coming from the
rest of the house, it seemed as if I was all alone. I was glad of
it.

How long have I been
asleep?
I wondered as my body protested my
attempts to keep myself upright, hobbling around on shaky
legs.
Quite a while, if I had to
guess.

Taking a few steps forward, I tugged
at the bottom of my nightgown, tracing the faint red mark along my
hip.

“
Ow,” I muttered, “that...”
my words died in my throat, a croak escaping me as I slowly lifted
the hem higher and higher, tugging it up and over my head, shucking
it completely and tossing it towards the bed. The room seemed to
shrink, closing in on me as I forced myself to look, made sure I
examined every single curve and thick swirl, dip and
curl.

A small, pained cry slipped passed my
numb lips as I caught sight of myself in the small mirror Papa had
hung on the wall years and years ago. Walking over, my hands shook
and my chin wobbled as I plucked it up, slowly bringing it up and
down the length of me.

A sob choked out as my fingertips ran
over the raised black markings that covered almost all of my entire
chest, and up one side of my neck.

Everywhere Trystan had
touched me.

My face tightened at the thought,
tensing, inside and out.

Memories, horrible nightmare like
mental images of that night, flickered through my mind, threatening
to intrude on my insanity.

“
No,” I squeezed my eyes
shut and had to take several deep breaths, “I won’t let it. He took
a part of me,”
and I know I’ll never get
it back
, “but he can’t have what’s
left.”
I refuse.

Glancing lower, I knew what I’d
find—the same swirling patterns trickling down into my woman’s
place, slipping down farther, and then up and across my thighs. My
jaw tightened and I clenched my teeth.

Tracing my fingers over the
patterns again, I felt a huge sense of betrayal from Troll.
This is his fault too.
Not Trystan’s actions, those are entirely his own to answer
for, but the scars, the black swirling burns, as a result of the
magic Troll had cast on me, a brand for all to see of Trystan’s
treachery, are now a permanent part of me.
If he hadn’t bonded us...
I let the
words trail off, my gut tightening in dismay. The memory of all the
excruciating pain I’d had to endure had me shivering.
Both times.

Bonded. What bond? This is
what happens when a troll bonds to you? Or is that all just another
clever trick?

My mind spun at the
possibility, a wave of dizziness washing over me. I’d believed him,
though.
He’d seemed as if he was telling
the truth.
Or was that just another
misstep on my part?
The mere idea had my
gut tumbling.
Bile rose in my
throat.
And the things I’d told
him...

I’d imagined we’d formed a
bond, of a sort, odd as that may seem.
Was
it just fanciful on my part? Was I just imagining it
all?

I deflated at that, the more I thought
about it, flattened and squished, as if finally being defeated,
finishing me off. Peeling off the tinted glasses I’d been peering
at the world through for so long, I stomped them good into the
ground.

My mind raced as I tried to piece it
all out. It wasn’t working, though, no matter how hard I tried, and
I started growling and muttering in my frustration. The harder I
tried, the more upset I got, everything I thought of, following on
the thought of something else, much worse or more perplexing than
the last.

Is this all somehow another
punishment—a clever way for him to retaliate, while still able to
maintain some supposed innocence?
Do
I
matter
at all?

“
Cursed, indeed,” I
whispered aloud.
He could do it,
I realized.
If he’d
really wanted to.
He had to know how much
power he’d have over me if he bonded us. Why else would he have in
the first place?

Power. Greed. To get back
at me for thinking I’d crossed him first. Retribution.
Heart lurching, I slowly crumpled to my knees,
scoffing.
He’d said as much, hadn’t
he?

And I’d said I loved
him

A wave of fresh anger
slapped at me and I buried my face in my hands.
More the fool am I. A forgiving, stupid... That’s right,
giving, always giving
. That had me
pausing, hardening as I truly did finally ice
over
.
That’s all
I’ve been doing, my entire life!—giving.

I give and give, and for
what?
“Nothing.”
All of me, given so freely, and nothing in return.
I was sick of it.
No
more.

My mind went back to Troll
holding that pocket watch, the possessive gleam in his eyes. I’m
the equivalent of a pocket watch when I see him watching me, aren’t
I? It’s a covetous thing, like his fascination with my
locket.
I’m just another trinket for his
collection—another thing to collect and stow away until he has use.
Would he trade me in for a prettier one if the opportunity
arose?

Then I thought of Trystan, my
sacrifice for him—my life for his, his marrying Otvla, and so soon
after I’d been gone, then taking me too. My whole body flinched,
just thinking about it. They betrayed me, is what they did. Tricked
me and betrayed me. Always expecting me to take it on myself, pay
the price.

And what of me, in all of
this?

Who will take a toll for
me?

When will I be
worthy?

When will I be worth
it?

“
Well,” I gritted out, arms
spread wide, “I hope they’re happy now.” I’ve definitely paid...
They’ve taken all of me, everything I have left. I’m
empty.

Selfish, all of them. Is
there no loyalty at all? Selfish toads.
I
wasn’t even warmed up yet, not even close. They were just the tip
of it.
What about my own family? Where was
their concern for me in all of this? Trading me off to a troll,
thinking he’d...
I stiffened and lost it,
letting out an ear piercing scream, life’s betrayals so fresh,
plastered in my mind, beating my fists on the ground.
They were going to trade me to Troll for Otvla,
knowing he’d want a taste of me, a piece, as Trystan
had.

Yet they’d still set me up,
their own child, for the other! What makes her worth more than
me?
“I want to know, damn it!”

It’s not fair!

And Trystan, he’s no better
than a troll!
My fists clenched as my
emotions consumed me.
I’d said no, and
he’d done it anyways. He took what wasn’t given freely.

Eyes straying, I glanced
down my chest, a choked cry tumbling out.
And I’m the one who had to pay for it.
I didn’t, for one second, think this hadn’t had anything to
do with the bonding. It had
everything
to do with it. Troll had
made it so no one else could touch what he’d claimed, no one could
take what he felt his.

Beyond the pain and humiliation I felt
at Trystan’s attack, there was the pain of Troll’s curse, that he
could hurt me so, tearing at me badly, shredding the remnants of
anything I’d felt for him.

He truly did curse me, and
that’s the only way I saw it—a curse—punishing
me
for Trystan’s deceit.

“
I curse them,” I snapped,
“I curse them all.”

At my heartfelt proclamation, I felt a
low hum, almost a buzzing, at the back of my head, the hair along
my nape pricking before the feeling slowly ebbed and
fell.

Consumed with resentment,
anger filling me anew, I let it wash over me, let my spite run
free, poisoning me to everything else.
It
almost felt comforting, in a way, having something to wrap around
me like and invisible shroud, protecting me from my own fears and
worries, drowning all the rest out.

I made a vow then, a
promise to myself—
I’ll never let anything
have that kind of power over me again. No one will ever hurt me
again.

The front door opened, creaking
noisily on its hinges, pulling me from my dark thoughts, and my
head shot up.

Guess I’m not alone
anymore.
Not that it would matter, either
way.

Naked as the day I was born, and truly
not giving a fig, I walked to my dresser and pulled out a clean
shift, slipping it on over my head.