Page 25 of Thunder Road

He looked up, feeling watched, and saw an elderly nun at a distance. She wore the traditional all-black head covering and loose robe, and the intensity of her stare made him wonder if she disapproved of his visit.

When he blinked, the nun was gone.

Before he had a chance to think further about his visitor, Simon’s phone vibrated, and he saw a text from Vic.

Vic:Any luck?

Simon:Maybe. Just sitting down with the books now. Give me a couple of hours. How’s your day?

Vic:Quiet so far. Don’t want to jinx it.

Simon:Still on for dinner and then the Boo-and-Brew?

Vic:Counting on it. Be careful. Love you.

Simon:The risk of getting hurt in a library is low, but never zero. Love you.

Handling any supernatural case around Halloween always made Simon think about the thin line between myth and reality.

Witches, psychics, vampires, were-creatures, ghosts, and other paranormal creatures were real, as was magic of all sorts. But just like television and movies presented a glamorized portrayal of doctors, detectives, and other real-life high-risk professions, the fictionalized version of supernatural gifts left out the less sexy parts like years of study, hours of training, and endless repetition to get a ritual exactly right.

Or spending most of the day in the stacks at a library,Simon thought as he set out his pen and notebook and started on the first tome.

Simon never had reason before to read up on trolls in particular, so all he knew was from fairy tales from his graduate study and movies. While there were some nods to the idea of gnarled creatures that lived under bridges and lusted for treasure, many of the older stories spoke of shapeshifters that could blend in with regular people and had magic that could alter people’s perceptions to see things that weren’t really there.

In some accounts, trolls lived peacefully near regular humans, offering their tremendous strength to help with chores. They married and raised families and were exceptionally gifted with needlecraft.

I wonder if there’s something with Teag’s magic that might help,Simon wondered, thinking of his cousin Cassidy’s friend who was an accomplished weaver-witch.

As for trolls spiriting people away, some accounts said there was little hope to reclaim the missing people. Others suggested prayers, ringing bells, or using steel and fire to reclaim those taken.

There’s not much here about bringing people back after they’ve been taken. The few cases that are in the stories didn’t work well.

Time passed quickly, and before Simon knew it, the alarm on his phone buzzed, warning him to gather his things before the library closed. He had filled most of a notebook and taken dozens of pictures in lieu of copying large sections of texts.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Mrs. Ames came up behind him so quietly that Simon flinched. “Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s okay—I just really got into the material,” Simon told her. “You’ve got a fantastic collection here.”

“We’re very proud of it,” she replied. “And seeing as it’s under the auspices of the church, it’s protected.”

“I made a note of which books I was using in case I need to come back. This has been tremendously helpful.”

“I’m glad.” Mrs. Ames frowned. “I hope that you’re not thinking about trying to get someone back who has been taken. The scholars who drew from the oldest sources believed that trolls took people who didn’t want to be found. Almost like a supernatural relocation program. All the noise about trolls eating people made sure most people left them alone—except for those who needed their help.”

Simon felt certain that Mrs. Ames had some arcane talent of her own, whether that was highly tuned intuition, some psychic abilities, or a touch of magic.

“I picked that up from the text. It puts an interesting spin on the tales,” Simon agreed.

“The old versions of the stories are much more…nuanced,” Mrs. Ames said. “The trolls in them aren’t just brutish ogres. They have families and societies. Most of our modern impressions come from a book written in the mid-1800s. That leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

It wouldn’t be the first time the Victorians fucked up a perfectly good folktale, Simon thought. Thanks to the printing press and a wider distribution of books, the more modern versions soon overtook the oral traditions.

The local troll isn’t that beneficent. We already know he takes a life for losing a bet, replenishing his energy. Figures we couldn’t get one of the helpful trolls.

“Are there nuns here? I saw one in the stacks but she didn’t speak. I had the impression she might not have welcomed my intrusion.” Simon was still curious about his visitor.

Mrs. Ames’s eyes widened. “Nuns? Not for a very long time. They were instrumental in the founding of the university, but over the years, there are fewer of the sisters and brothers, and those who remain are largely retired.”

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