Page 8 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
Surely, Tobias lived in a nice house with proper furniture, tables for dining, and windows for stargazing, but Arlo had none of those things. Perhaps he should crawl back up to the deck rather than wait to be embarrassed by his humble abode.
His throbbing ankle rejected that notion outright.
Arlo flopped onto his bed and stuffed pillows beneath his sore foot. Then he lay back to rest. Whatever Tobias thought of the den would be fine. Arlo didn’t care. He liked his cave, and that was all that mattered.
Footsteps signaled Tobias’s return. Arlo’s heart raced. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Before he could haul himself out of bed, feet appeared, dangling from the rafter above, then the whole of Tobias dropped gracefully to the entrance of Arlo’s den.
“May I come in?”
“You might as well.” Arlo sat up straighter and leaned against the wall.
Tobias’s bright green eyes darted over the contents of Arlo’s sanctuary. “Oh, this is lovely! I had no idea you had such a nice place below the bridge. Did you build this yourself?”
Arlo let out the breath he’d been holding and stuck out his chin. “I did.”
“Well done.” Tobias pulled a handful of bits and shavings from his pocket, chose one, and handed it to Arlo. “Chew this, but don’t swallow. I’ll use the remainder to make tea. Willow bark will help with the pain.”
Arlo put the small wooden stalk into his mouth and bit down. He cringed. “It’s bitter.”
“Oh, right, yes. The bark tastes awful.” Tobias dumped the rest into the pot of boiling water. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”
“Is it any better in tea?”
Tobias chuckled. “Worse, I’m afraid.”
Arlo snorted. “I can hardly wait.”
“If you have any honey, we could sweeten it.”
“And waste perfectly good honey? No, thank you.”
“The bad flavor is worth it for the pain relief. Willow bark is especially good for swelling. You’ll feel better in no time.” Tobias brought the chair next to the bed and sat. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?”
Heat crept along Arlo’s cheeks. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
Tobias opened his mouth, shut it, and leaned back. “I’m being nosy, aren’t I? I’m sorry. I suppose it’s none of my business.”
Arlo didn’t like to see Tobias’s steady grin fade to an expression of doubt, and he certainly didn’t like being the cause of that switch. With a sigh, he mumbled, “I tried your trick. I wanted to walk on my hands.”
“Oh no. But you shouldn’t practice by yourself. I had helpers when I learned.”
Arlo shrugged. “Nobody here but me.”
“I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“It’s not broken,” Arlo repeated. He didn’t know what else to say.
“That isn’t much comfort when one cannot walk.” Tobias scooted to the edge of the chair and reached for Arlo’s hand, where it lay on his quilt. Cool fingers, still chilled from the outside air, wrapped around Arlo’s warmer ones. “You must stay off your feet. I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow. Will you be all right until then?”
Arlo stared at their joined hands, Tobias’s flushed pink from the cold, his a light gray, like stone. He gave a little squeeze, and Tobias returned the gesture. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need anything before I leave?”
Arlo shook his head.
Tobias released his hand and stood. “Only small sips of tea at a time. Too much will give you a stomachache.” He took the pot from the fire and set it aside. He ladled a few mouthfuls into Arlo’s cup, blew on the boiling, bitter liquid, and placed it next to the bed. “Pretend it’s hot chocolate.”
Arlo’s lips curled at the edges. “Impossible.” The drink would be as awful as the bark, but his pain had already faded, so the trade-off might be worth it after all.
