Page 5 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
The cups appeared first, set neatly side by side on the deck, then the teapot. Arlo shimmied up next to them. He poured the tea, picked up the cups, and offered one to Toby.
“It’s mint,” said Arlo.
“Thank you.” Toby took a sip. The delightfully sweet concoction warmed his throat. “It’s very good.”
“My favorite.” Arlo sat by him, long legs straight out and crossed at the ankles. Bulging thigh muscles strained the wool of his trousers.
Toby wondered if trolls had chairs, but he didn’t mind sitting on the deck. It reminded him of childhood games with his siblings. “My brothers and I used to play fivestones on this bridge when we were kids. Have you heard of it?”
Arlo shook his head.
“We’d sit on the ground like this, but in a circle.” Toby waved his index finger. “You need five stones, of course. We made up loads of special rules and tosses, but at the most basic, you toss one stone up, and while it’s in the air, you grab the four left on the ground. Then you must catch the stone you tossed before it falls.”
Arlo wrinkled his prominent forehead. “But why?”
Toby shrugged. “For something to do, I suppose. It’s rather fun. I used to be a decent player, though my older brother Timothy usually won.”
“I don’t know any games.” Arlo stared into his teacup.
That was quite sad. Toby knew lots of games. “When it’s warmer, I’ll teach you.”
Arlo raised his gaze to Toby’s, interest flashing in his sky-blue eyes. “You will?”
“Sure.” Toby finished his tea and set his cup aside. “I bet you’ll be good at it. You have large hands. All the better for beating me at fivestones. Perhaps you could give Timothy a challenge.”
Arlo’s cheeks flushed a dusky purple, and he averted his gaze. “Will your brother be crossing my bridge?”
“Well, it’s usually me who delivers messages from one pack to another. My siblings all have young children, which makes traveling difficult. But everyone will be through for the summer solstice festival in June.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“Seven.” Toby laughed at Arlo’s surprised expression. “I’m the youngest. You?”
“Two brothers. I’m also the youngest. They left to guard their own bridges when I turned ten.”
“Oh dear, so it was just you and your parents after that? No kids to play with?”
“Well, my father had already gone. He had a bridge of his own, you see? So my mother took care of us. Twice we had cousins come to live with us for a bit, but no one ever played with me.”
“Why not?”
“My brothers were much older and my cousins much younger, and none of us knew any games.”
Toby had trouble imagining children with no games. His youth had been full of them, and already his nieces and nephews were getting old enough to learn. One day he would play fivestones with Timothy’s kids, and maybe then he could finally win a game.
“What did you bring as tribute?” asked Arlo.
“Oh, I didn’t.” Toby frowned as Arlo’s brows drew tight. “But only because I couldn’t decide what you’d like. So instead, I brought some money. I thought you could tell me what would make you happy, and I’ll pick it up in town.”
“Tobias—”
“Toby.”
Arlo huffed at the interruption. “I don’t want you to spend your money on me.”
“But I don’t have any other ideas.” Toby watched Arlo closely. He hadn’t thought Arlo would be mad at him for not bringing a tribute, but now he wasn’t so sure.
“Do you know any tricks?”
