The Toll (64 page)

“
It was very powerful, and
shown with blue, like a light coming from inside, you know?” Bo
knew, so I didn’t expect a reply, but the unblinking look on Quaz’s
face had me taken aback. “Uhm, it was the Lady’s locket, I guess.
That much, at least, I remember.”

Choking on his own spit, Quaz’s eyes
fairly bulged. “An’ ye dinna take it?”

“
No,” my nose scrunched up
in distaste, “as much as I’d wanted to, something was pricking at
me... holding me back. I don’t know... It just didn’t feel right.”
Thinking on what Magda had planned for Vidi, I felt firm in my
decision, proud I’d followed my gut on this one. “And I’m glad I
didn’t.”

“
Much stronger than ye
think, Nugget.” Grunting, an odd look on his face, Quaz added, “No
Ornthren alive would turn down a powerful pretty like
that.”

“
I’m no
Ornthren.”

“
No. You’re not,” Bo
interrupted, “and we’ll admit we were wrong in assuming Niniane’s
plan would work.”

“
Ye bleedin’ arseholes all
had a hand in it?!” Ketik marched into the room, eyes licking with
inky black, fanning with pin pricks of royal purple.

All eyes turned to him and he hunched
down, as if pained, thick hands fisting and digging into the floor,
a look of pure rage on his face. There were cuts and bruises all
over him, even a few unhealed gashes along his ribs and sides, face
swelling in various places. It looked like he’d gotten into a fight
with a gang of wild animals.

“
Hope the Fates wipe ye all
from the earth. Every last damned one of ye!” Ketik was pacing back
and forth angrily, a slight limp to his predatory gate, glaring at
anything and everything. “Should have known! Should’ve known!”
Whirling on the Elemental, he bellowed, “Know what ye’ve done,
tossin’ ‘em in the shit pot like ye did?!”

“
She meant well,” Bo
muttered, rubbing a hand down his drawn face. It had drained of all
color. “We never meant for any of this to happen, any of it. She
only wanted... She only meant... I’m not sayin’ it was right, any
of it, and I take my part in the blame-”

“
She only what?!!” Ketik
roared. “That whore did enough birthin’ me. Shoulda drowned me as a
babe!”

Chest restricting, I
clutched Calder to me tight.
Would he feel
that way about me someday? Would he hate me like that? Wish he was
never born?

NO! Never,
I swore.
He’d know his
worth, and he’d love as much as he’s loved.

Looking to me for
understanding, Bo shouted, “I brought you to the Travellers, I did,
but the locket was supposed to keep you connected, so the bond
wouldn’t break! It was supposed to make you
want
to come back!” Closing his
eyes, he sighed heavily before glancing at me once more. “I’d had
no idea of the other Other’s existence. Vidi wasn’t taken into
account, and I didn’t know of Niniane’s bargain with Magda, or,
until after the fact, Magda’s with you. We can’t even detect her,
either one of them, for that matter. Their origins are mixed, and
that causes complications. Niniane, if she’d known, hadn’t bothered
to tell us, or take it fully into account. We didn’t want anyone
else to get hurt. I would have put a stop to it.
We
would have. We were
just trying to make the best of a bad situation. We were trying to
fix it!”

“
You and Zeme?” I asked
slowly, eyeing him skeptically.

“
Wind, Earth, and Fire.”
There was something off about the mention of Fire—a slight
hesitation, barely perceptible, but still there.
Was Phaestus a reluctant party in the bid to
‘help’?

“
Fix it?! Does this bloody
well look fixed to you?! Does he? He’s gone mad! We had ta chain
him up so he wouldna gouge his own eyes out, an’ ye call tha’
fixin’ it?! He tried ta tear off his runes, slashin’ at his skin,
mumblin’ ‘bout takin’ it away! He bleedin’ blames himself, the
stupid bastard, for everythin’,” he wouldn’t look at me, couldn’t
meet me in the eye anymore, “an’ he kicked the sow on her ass ta
free her. When we went ta find her, all three of ye were hidin’ her
from us. Ye even pretended ta be that snivelin’ little pisser that
wet his self tryin’ ta save her!”

“
Pretended?” I latched onto
that. “If you were pretending to be Brevin, then where is
he?”

“
Zeme has him,” Bo sighed
tiredly, “he thinks she’s Adamina, and she’s convinced him it’s all
a dream.” At the look on my face, he held up a hand. “As I’ve said,
we didn’t want any more,” he hesitated and started over, but I was
already distracted, only registering every other word, “we didn’t
want any more humans being hurt. That was never our intention. We’d
agreed to help Niniane at first, I won’t argue that. She’d just
wanted to find a suitable match for Bektam, and when we found one
in Phaestus’ mortal get, we thought it kismet. But things never go
as they should, and none of it should have gone the way it- Are you
alright?”

There would be time to let that sink
in later, and while I agreed Brevin shouldn’t be exposed to any of
this, it was still disheartening. Above all that, though, Ketik’s
words still pierced me. I felt struck. His next ones, for an
entirely different reason, had me stopping dead in my
tracks.

“
He loves her, ye stupid,
feckin’...Would do anythin’ for her! Ye drove him ta
this!”

“
I didn’t know they had
some type of mixed Casters in their midst!” Wind argued. “I didn’t!
Niniane never said, and for all I know, she may not have! Fae are
backstabbing little creatures. Maybe she thought her trade was to
smother a bad seed? Who am I to say or know? Those Fated bitches
took our foresight, and ‘the well’ dried up eons ago! Other than
our distinct elements, we’ve been stinted, shunned. Favor has long
been out of our hand. The less man believes, the less we’re given,
all that much more is taken. I could no better have guessed all
this than one of those coin swindling hand readers! How were we to
‘see’?!”

Chest heaving, lips pulled back, the
fearsome Ornthren went toe to toe with the Elemental. “Mother dear
has the ‘sight’,” he spat. “Coulda asked her, aye? Those three hags
playin’ wit’ string never took it from her! If ye hadn’t have
interfered, he coulda found her fat arse and dragged her back here
months ago. They would be arguin’ an’ fuckin’, an’ whatever stupid
shit they do when they think we canna hear them shoutin’ the roof
down from the mist in Mid, an’ none of this would have
happened!”

My face reddened, flaming
crimson, and I thought my cheeks might explode, they felt so hot.
I’d thought we were in a dream realm then.
Each time, had he been bringing me back here? Bringing me
home? He’d said it’s real but it isn’t, some type of middle
realm.

“
They took it from
us,”
Wind reiterated,
gaze unwavering as he matched Ketik’s sneer, “from us.”

“
Oh? An’ Mum dearest dinna
count now, eh?”

“
I don’t count her, but I
think you’re wrong. I doubt she has the sight. It’s not like it
used to be. It’s truly not like you think any-”

“
Ye expect me ta think a
Water Elemental canna conjure up a bit ‘o’ spark an’ snap to see
into a wee lass’ future? Pfft. Parlor trick fer yer lot. Dinna
paint me stupid, windbag. Will be foolin’ me no more.” Arms
crossing stubbornly over his chest, he muttered snidely, “So...
what? Earth, Fire an’ Wind, no Water to put ye out? Ye’re just a
band ‘o’ three now?”

Face tightening, Bo hissed low, “Yes.
Your bearer is no longer welcome in our circle. The line was drawn
when-” His gaze darted to me and he stopped, clearing his throat
roughly. “We drew the line.”

“
Hey!” My breath left me on
a bellowing screech, a banshee incarnate. It had been building,
coming to this.

Ketik and Bo both jerked, swinging
their gazes towards me.

“
Did he say it?”

“
Huh?” Ketik’s face was
still an angry, snarling scowl, but confusion clouded his
unfathomable gaze. “What are ye gettin’ on about now?”

“
Did he say it?” I took a
step towards him. I needed to know. “Did he say he loved
me?”

“
Ye stopped me from
bleedin’ an Elemental ta ask if me blitherin’ eejit kin loves ye?
Woman, are ye daft? ‘O’ course the fool loves ye! He’s been pissin’
daisies since yer chatterin’ ass came rollin’ in. Sap was stuck at
the first.”

I heartily begged to differ, but, what
do I know of lovesick trolls? Enough to know they’re irrational
when emotions are high, they’re insane, and they love to fuck...
So, yep, nothing.

Tossing an arm out, Ketik gave a dry,
humorless laugh. Resentment filled his hardening gaze for a moment
and he rumbled, “Everything he does, since even before he went an’
got himself leg shackled to ye an’ got the fuck over it, has been
‘bout ye. He’s an Ornthren, ye whinin’ cow. We dinna know softness,
not when we come inta our own.” Thumping his chest, he growled low.
“Can thank the Fates fer that one. Call it a must, call it the
curse, or call it like it is—runes kick in ‘round puberty an’ ‘the
sense’ ignites.”

I knew exactly what he’d meant,
battling my own ‘sense’ myself, ever since those runes started
lighting up, magic suffusing me. Was this the price they paid to
bond their body with magic? The toll they paid?

“
He comes close, close as
he can fer ye,” he admitted, as if reluctant to impart that
particular piece. “Dinna ye see the fight in it? Ornthren were no’
made ta mate.” His lips tightened. “We be made ta take.”

Eyes staring into him, I
had to believe it wasn’t all true. Troll had plenty of
opportunities to ‘take’, and yet he hadn’t.
If that was how it was for other Ornthren, then, well, my
Troll was different.

“
Ornthren be survivors.
What did ye expect, flowery words an’ a ring, peepots? Pfft. We
dinna know the meanin’. He dinna like the pull,” he grumbled,
running a long hand down his face, “but he well enough liked ye.
Bek’s always been a broken bastard, though, the fiercest an’
hardest of us all, an’ look at him now? Felled by a carrot-haired
wench that bites.” Shaking his head sadly, he snorted. “Had ta go
it all along for a few, figure it all out on his own. Make his own
way, clear the ‘combs of Under. Mmm. Fucked in the head long before
ye.” Clucking his tongue on the back of his teeth, he mused, “An’
maybe ye’re just the last string ta be pulled before he’s
unravelin’.”

“
I didn’t break him,” I
snapped defensively.

“
Och, dinna be bitchin’.
Ye’re still standin’ here, aintcha? Rather kill himself an’ be done
wit’ it then stuck to a heartless bitch. Ye got heart enough,” he
gave a disinterested sniff, as if maybe he’d said too much,
“s’pose. Ye know, fer a whinin’ cow.”

That was as close to a compliment as I
thought I’d ever get from the foul-mouthed heathen, but my lips
still pursed and my eyes turned beady, narrowing.

“
We dinna dabble in pretty
words an’ petty shite. Ye need mush, find that diddlin’ pantywaist
yer whore of a sister shacked up wit’, he’s full ‘o’ it. An’ piss,
ta hear Bek tell it. Lots ‘o’ piss.”

I went slack at that, shock coursing
through me. But, as he glared down at me, completely at home with
himself and his blunt hatred, I knew right then, he didn’t
know.

“
Ketik!” Bo’s voice had
gone guttural and low, as my face blanched. “You speak of
survivors, look no further than there. She’s been through her own
hell, and you’ll not mention that name in her presence, ever!”
Suddenly, it was like there was a tornado in the room, whipping
around us hard enough I had put my hands protectively over Calder’s
head.

“
What?” Ketik muttered,
something inscrutable entering those glinting purple eyes at the
look on my face. Then, realization hit, his face blanched, and he
paled.

“
Ah, so you do know, then.”
Not all, obviously, I could guess, but he definitely knew
something. My throat felt tight, too tight, but I fought to speak.
Done breaking, where a comment like that would have had me torn up
inside, crushed me to my soul and set me off, I felt myself
thicken, his words only proving to stiffen my resolve. They were
just that—words.

Trystan would never hurt me again, and
while the mention of his name would always make me feel sick, he
doesn’t own me. This is my life, my thoughts, my feelings. I own
me. He’ll never have any control over any part of any of me ever
again.

Ketik’s words, while harsh
and crude
,
freed
something that needed jarring loose.

Contrition, something rarely seen on a
troll face, fixed his. “I dinna know it was... I’m... me
apologies.” Rubbing at his neck, deflating immediately, a small
spark of blue lit his runes. “No one should- When I’d said take...
I’d meant the-” The words sounded thick in his throat. “Take, dinna
force, ye ken? Not right,” he finally got out.

He’d meant take, like a
pretty, a bauble—a claim. Troll had well and truly done
that—claimed me—coercion/gruff persuasion, his weapon of choice.
He’d never forced me.
Despite the gruff
exterior and the effects of the curse, were they really such
horrible creatures?
I didn’t think
so.