Page 26 of Aofie's Quest
At a loss for words, I nodded. A muscle on my face twitched, and my nostrils flared. My magic turned gray, tinted with red, and little flares shot up from my palms.
The man licked his lips and stepped back, his shifty eyes going from my hands to the trolls. “Did the queen send you?”
“I heard the music.“ I glared at him, daring him to explain himself.
“Aye.” He held up the flute. “It keeps them calm during the night.”
I crossed my hands over my chest so I would not hit him. For so long, I assumed that the kingdom of men was ruled by those who upheld justice and mercy. That the reason they had fallen was because they were too trusting and oblivious to the betrayal on all sides. I thought justice and loyalty would be truth they measured their lives by, with a firm belief in fairness for every race and creature that dwelled in Labraid. However, my mother’s letter had spoken of corruption. Although I did not know her well, I had to be honest with myself and admit I’d sensed something darker, but nothing as terrible as this.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I took a breath to keep myself calm and my voice level. “Why must they be kept quiet?”
The man scratched his stringy hair. Flakes of mud drifted down into the halo of light. He shrugged. “If the queen sent you, then you already know. It’s us or the trolls. We keep their offspring so they won’t bother us. How else do you think we live here in peace? Even spells fail sometimes, although a spell woven by the elves is powerful indeed.”
I blanched.
“The queen sent you, didn’t she?” The man raised a bushy eyebrow.
Shaking with horror, I backed away. They were nothing but children! Baby trolls locked up and away from their parents, their families. Something tightened in my chest. Just like me. How dreadfully unfair. Those creatures would grow up not knowing their parents, their family, their history or culture. Life would go on without them while they rotted in the dark, alive yet not alive, with no way to truly live, or escape, or even understand what they missed.
I thought of my mother, the queen of all people, who’d complained about the corruption of the kingdom of men. A white-hot streak of rage went through me, shaking me to the core. The trolls were simply a reflection of how my mother perceived me, because I wasn’t born to be loved or cared for by her. I was born to serve a purpose. The sooner I left, the better. Spinning, I walked away, leaving the man standing in disbelief. He cleared his throat but said nothing more.
Magic flared around me and something inside of my chest snapped like a broken branch tumbling from a great height to shatter on the forest floor. Tears rose in my chest and then heavy sobs. Pressing a hand to my mouth to keep the ugly noise inside, I broke into a run. I wanted to return to my room, hurl myself headlong on the bed and cry in peace. Horrible thoughts surfaced and I couldn’t help but wonder. What had my mother done to ensure the safety of her bloodline? Did it matter what happened to me?
A sob escaped my throat and I slowed, shoulders shaking as I leaned against the wall and let my pain and fears flow. Presently, an odd glow lit up the hall. Wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I peered at the light. It came from under the door to my room. Wishing I had my knife, I crept toward the door, opened it, and peeked inside.
A dark-haired girl sat cross-legged on my bed. She held an orb in both hands and watched whatever was inside it fly back and forth. When the door opened, she jerked her head up. I stumbled and backed against the wall, my fingers shaking as I shut the door. My throat went dry and I rubbed my eyes to ensure I wasn’t seeing a vision. “Riesh?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Aofie.” She smiled, a childish grin that made her appear so young and innocent. “I followed you here.”
My jaw flapped open. She hadn’t followed me. I was sure of it. The last I’d seen her, she’d gone back to the vale after her cryptic warning.
Reish bounced off the bed and her smile faded. “She is coming.”
“Who is coming?” I begged. Questions rushed through my mind like a whirlwind. How did Reish get inside? Did she know my mother?
Instead, Reish glided toward the door. When she spoke again, her tone was deadly calm, but her words frightened me. “You should gather your things and leave. It’s not safe anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Reish randown the hall before I could ask more questions. Licking salty tears off my lips in an effort to straighten up my appearance, I recalled her last warning and what had happened. There wasn’t time to weigh the truth of her words; I simply needed to act.
Moving across the dimly lit room, I pulled on my boots, fastened my belt, and snatched up my pouch. My pack and bedroll were missing, but instead of spending more precious minutes looking for them, I slipped out the door, heart hammering in my throat.
The torches had gone out, leaving the hall covered in a cloak of shadow. I dropped a hand to my waist and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my knife. Should I call out and warn someone? But I did not know what might be out there in the blackness. Pressing one hand against the wall, I crept toward what I hoped was the gathering room.
A blood-curdling scream broke the silence. The hair on my neck stood up straight and adrenaline pulsed through me. I quickened my pace, one hand held out in front of me, my training making me move automatically. When someone was in pain or need, one always went to help.
Behind me, a door swung open and heavy footsteps pounded the dirt. Someone shouted, “Find the royal family. Get them out!”
Pools of flickering light flared in front of me and I ran toward them, slowing down as I approached the gathering room. It was lit with torchlight, but even the flames could not frighten away the shadows, and within the shadows, gray shapes scampered down the walls. I paused to assess the situation.
When the light struck them, the shapes revealed themselves to be short, stubby creatures with thick beards and stumpy arms. Dwarves? But no, the dwarves I had met did not carry on in such a manner. For the creatures squealed and rolled as they hit the ground before launching themselves, teeth gnashing as they sought something to hold on to. One of the creatures slammed into my chest and bit down on my shoulder, breaking the skin. A warm pool of blood formed and I stumbled back, using both hands to yank it off my body. I hurled the creature across the room and it emitted what sounded like a cry of glee as it flew.
Another creature scratched at my foot. I kicked it. A squeal left its lips as it flew across the room, but more crowded around me. I kicked again, unsure if I should harm the creatures. They seemed more of an annoyance than a vicious enemy.
Guards dashed past me with swords drawn. They slashed and hacked at the mysterious creatures, which dipped and weaved, effortlessly evading them. A guard snatched at my arm and I drew back as he pointed to the ladder. “Head above ground!” he ordered.
Above. That’s what I wanted. I ran, following the guards as they cut a path to the ladder. Over my shoulder I glimpsed my mother and half-siblings. Mother carried Conan, who bounced in her arms, still half-asleep despite the commotion. I joined them and as one we surged through the creatures, which scampered farther underground, leaving shouts and screams in their wake.
