Curse of the Troll

by Emma Hamm

  She reached down at her side and touched the sword. It had proven to be a good blade thus far, although she was a little concerned a human-made weapon wouldn’t be able to slice through troll flesh. Their skin wasn’t just rocklike in appearance, but as hard as stone as well.

  The troll queen would be a difficult person to fight. She had years of experience and wasn’t going to let her win. The queen had likely fought in more battles than Elva could imagine. Their people had always been a warring community in the legends, and this queen had been their ruler for centuries.

  Just as the queen stepped forward, her daughter lunged and caught her shoulder. “Mother, no! She’s mine.”

  “You don’t know how to use that sword.”

  “Yes, I do!” The troll princess pointed it at Elva and said, “I want to fight you.”

  “Then we will do so as only Seelie Court fights can be done.” Elva tightened her grip on the sword and widened her stance. “No one else will interfere. Once you agree to fight me, once you step foot on the floor here, then it’s just you and me.”

  The Troll Queen shook her daughter off. “I forbid it.”

  “Mother!” The troll princess started walking down the stairs. “I am not a child anymore. You cannot control me much longer. This is my decision. And I want to fight.”

  Only then did the Troll Queen step back. If Elva didn’t know any better, she would think the creature was actually angry. Not worried, not thinking that her daughter might lose, but truly angry that her child would defy her.

  What mother wouldn’t care at all that her child was going to die? And she had to know the troll princess was no match for Elva. Which meant she understood the troll princess was taking her own life in her hands and didn’t care other than her child had disagreed with her.

  The troll queen sighed and waved in Elva’s direction. “Fine then. Fight her and see what happens. I can’t teach you everything.”

  This felt very much like a trap. Elva looked over at Donnacha, who shook his head. He didn’t know what was going on either.

  She licked her lips and drew her sword. The troll princess left the stairs and strode toward her. All the other trolls shifted, creating a large opening in the middle of the great hall where they would fight.

  Was this going to end up another situation where Elva underestimated the trolls? Were they lying that the troll princes didn’t know how to fight?

  Though that might not be the true sword of Nuada, it was still a sharp dwarven-made blade. She’d never say it out loud, but dwarven blades were dangerous. They knew how to fight even if the wielder wasn’t the best warrior. Now if the troll princess was lying and did know how to fight, this could turn on Elva easily.

  She wasn’t going to underestimate her opponent any longer. She was going to fight this troll princess as though she were sent from Scáthach herself. Then and only then was Elva sure to win.

  The troll princess lifted the blade up imperiously and said, “Kneel faerie.”

  “No.”

  The princess frowned. “I said kneel.”

  “I have no intention of doing that.” Elva hefted her sword higher. “Lift your blade. I’m not going to kill you if you aren’t even attacking me.”

  True fear lit in the princess’s eyes. She shook the sword as if by doing so she might make it work. “Why aren’t you doing whatever I want? Is it broken?”

  Elva shook her head and moved to slowly circle the princess. “Did you really think I would give you the real sword of Nuada?”

  “But faeries can’t lie. You said this was the sword of Nuada!”

  “No. You were the one who said that. I just didn’t correct you.”

  The troll princess stamped her foot. “But that’s not fair! I would never have agreed to fight you if I had known this wasn’t the legendary sword. I’m going back up there and I’m going to marry that dwarf. You cheated!”

  When she moved toward the stairs, Elva stepped in front of her. The torchlight reflected on her sword, dancing down the surface until it looked like her blade was on fire. “No, you aren’t.”

  “You cheated,” the troll princess hissed.

  “I did no such thing. I simply didn’t correct you. You already made the deal—no one steps foot into the fight to help you, and you can’t get out. Lift your sword, princess.”

  “I don’t want to,” the troll princess whined the words so they sounded like nails scratching down stone.

  Elva’s lips twisted into a dark smile. “I didn’t want to lose the dwarf, but you took him anyway. Now, I’m going to fight you whether you want to fight or not.”

  The troll princess’s eyes bulged and, for a moment, Elva thought she might run. Her eyes flicked to the crowd in a desperate attempt to find a way out. But the crowd began to close in around them.

  Almost as if they wanted to see their princess die.

  Elva looked around at the angry expressions of the trolls and realized they truly hated the royals. Every single person here was staring at the princess with complete and utter rage. They wanted to see her die. They wanted to watch her fight even though they knew she was going to fail because she hadn’t been trained.

  What kind of creatures were these beings? How had they no compassion?

  She shook her head. Once she left this kingdom for good, she was never coming back here. These creatures were toxic.

  “Come on, princess,” she said again, “lift your sword.”

  The troll princess looked down at the golden blade in her hand. For a moment, Elva had a flicker of doubt. Perhaps this creature knew how to fight. Maybe this was all one great game to force Elva into a death match that wasn’t going to end well.

  The thought didn’t last long.

  With a weak cry, the troll princess lifted the sword over her head and charged forward. She was clearly a novice. She left her entire torso open for attack when Elva was so much smaller than her.

  A simple shift would have gutted the princess immediately, but Elva didn’t want to win like that. She wanted the troll princess to have at least a modicum of respect when she was finally bested.

  Twisting, Elva let the troll princess race past her. The troll fell into the steps, sword clattering as it hit the ground. To her credit, she pushed herself back to standing and whirled rather quickly. For such a large creature, she could move.

  Elva kept her sword at her side this time. “Come on,” she said. “You can do better than that. Don’t hold your sword over your head.”

  The troll princess didn’t listen. She charged like a bull, although the sword was held straight in front of her. Again, a horrible way to attack anyone. Elva could have sliced through her throat without question if she had wanted to do that.

  Shaking her head, she sidestepped again. The troll princess hit the crowd this time. They caught her in their arms and tossed her back toward Elva so forcefully that she might have been toppled if she hadn’t expected the others’ movement.

  Elva had set herself in the world of the warrior. She didn’t feel emotions, only calculating steps to predict what the troll princess would do next. But if she would have allowed herself to feel something in that moment, it would have been sadness.

  The troll princess was already breathing hard. Her lungs worked to drag in any air that might assist her. Sweat slicked her brow and palms, making it difficult for her to hold onto the hilt of the sword. This wasn’t a creature who was meant to fight for her life.

  She truly was just a child.

  It was time to end this. She had no interest in baiting this child any longer, but she was also angry the trolls didn’t care this woman was about to die. They didn’t care she was their princess. They didn’t care her life was ending. What kind of creatures where these?

  White hot anger flowed through her veins. In a quick jab, she sank her blade through the back of the troll princess’s knee. The troll gave out a surprised cry and fell to her knees. Just where Elva wanted her.

  Pivoting, Elva stepped beh
ind her equally as fast, pressed the blade against the princess’s throat, and held her still by the hair.

  “Don’t move,” she growled.

  “Please don’t kill me. Please, I don’t want to die.”

  And Elva didn’t want to kill her. She didn’t want to kill anyone, but that decision was entirely up to the queen who stared down at them with blank eyes.

  Elva met her gaze and nodded down at the daughter she held very still. “The option is yours, queen. Let the dwarf go, and I’ll let your daughter live.”

  The Troll Queen shrugged. “I’ve never been particularly fond of this offspring I’ve created. There’s no need for me to keep her alive when I have a dwarf here who can give me another child. Kill her. I don’t really care.”

  The troll princess choked out a cry.

  What kind of mother didn’t care if their own daughter died? Then again, what kind of mother sold her only child off to an abusive king who wanted nothing more than to put her on a pedestal for all to see?

  Anger at all heartless mothers made Elva see spots. “Are you really that cold?”

  “What about trolls makes you think we have hearts?” The queen gestured toward her daughter. “Do you think she wouldn’t kill me given the chance? She’s tried to poison me for years, but she’s not smart enough to trick me. Any of the trolls here would overthrow us both if they had the opportunity. You are not in a kingdom of creatures who care at all about death. It’s just a way to more power.”

  “This is your child.”

  “And I can make more.” The Troll Queen shrugged. “It’ll take a little time. I’m sure your dwarf will make it difficult for me, but the men always break eventually.”

  Elva shook her head, pressing the blade against the troll princess’s throat even harder. She was surprised to feel it slice through the bark-like texture. When a bead of blood rolled down the princess’s throat, she whimpered for her mother to help.

  “One last chance,” Elva growled. “One last chance to be a good person for once in your life, to choose your daughter’s life above your own.”

  “Or what?” The queen burst into laughter and opened her arms wide. “If you kill my daughter, then I will order every troll in this hall to kill you. They will destroy you, crack your head upon the stone floor, and bring me a goblet of your blood to drink. You have no other opportunity, faerie princess. Beauty will only get you so far after all.”

  Elva smiled then. She smiled so brightly it lit up the hall with her happiness. “Then I guess we have to kill you first.”

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  “Oh, I’m not going to,” Elva replied. “I was just the distraction.”

  A shadow behind the queen burst into movement. A blade, dwarven-made as only the dwarves knew how to create a sword that could cut through stone, sliced through the air. The queen’s eyes widened as the sword touched her shoulder, sliced through her torso, and exited out the other side.

  She had a moment to let out a quiet sound of surprise before the top half of her body slid one way, and the other half slid the other.

  The falling remains of the queen revealed the dwarf standing behind her, blade now pointed at the ground. Angus grinned at Elva. “You called?”

  “I didn’t think you’d have such impeccable timing,” she replied.

  “A dwarf is never late.”

  Elva tensed as the trolls around her finally registered what had happened. She lifted her voice above the shouts and concerned words. “Trolls!”

  The noise stilled as the others stared at her.

  “I hold your last remaining royal with my blade. You will allow us to leave this place unharmed, or I will kill her.”

  The troll nearest to her snorted. He wore the stone armor of the guards, but he wasn’t one she recognized. How many of these creatures were there? “We don’t care if you kill her.”

  “What?” Elva let the question fall from her lips, limp and confused.

  The troll princess whimpered. “Mother? Is she dead? Whatever am I going to do?”

  Elva felt her chest clench in pain for the poor creature who now mourned her mother. Although she had been a bad mother, she was still the one who had given the princess life. “I’m sorry it came to this.”

  The troll who had originally spoken, the one she assumed was a guard, shook his head. “She doesn’t care the queen’s dead any more than the rest of us.”

  Elva shifted her grip on the princess’s hair. “She sure seems to care.”

  The princess let go of the ruse and sighed when the troll guard stared at her severely. “Fine. No, I don’t care that she’s gone. The old bitch had it coming.”

  Elva didn’t understand what was going on. This should have been a climactic moment where the trolls rose up in revenge for their queen. Instead, they were already exiting the great hall, murmuring about how that had been the most exciting wedding they’d seen in a while.

  Slowly, Elva released the troll princess.

  The creature stood, shook herself off, and then pointed at her leg. “That really hurt.”

  “I’m sure it did. Care to explain what’s happening?”

  “The fun’s over. Now all the trolls will go home, and I’ll figure out what I want to do next.” The troll princess limped toward the body of her mother. “First, I want to see if she was carrying anything interesting.”

  “You’re—” Elva paused. “Are you looting the body of your mother?”

  “Why not?”

  As the troll princess rummaged through her mother’s pockets, hands quickly becoming red with blood, Elva stepped toward Donnacha. “And…do you want to force this marriage?”

  “You won him fair and square. You can have him.”

  Elva looked at Donnacha, so close she could touch him, and wondered if she was dreaming. “Is this really happening?”

  Angus strode up to them, wiping his sword clean. “Damned trolls. No loyalty among any of them. They just want to see the world fighting, and then when the fight’s done, they go back to their homes. Cowards, the lot of them.”

  “Angus,” Donnacha said, reaching for his cousin and tugging him into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you.”

  “The element of surprise always works, don’t you think?”

  “Worked surprisingly well.”

  “The queen didn’t see it coming.”

  The two of them laughed, and Elva stared at them in shock. She couldn’t process what was happening. The high of battle still running in her veins, she clapped her hands together in a great crack that got their attention. “If you could have broken the deal by killing the queen all this time, why did you send me here?” Elva asked.

  Angus shrugged. “I needed you to stall everyone. Donnacha could do that a bit, I was certain of it, but the Troll Queen has never been afraid of men. A woman, however? That would have caught her attention. Besides, I needed to make a sword that could actually cut through that enchanted skin of hers.”

  Elva’s jaw fell open. “I was a distraction?”

  “Well, you were coming here anyway. Might as well use you.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that from the beginning?”

  Angus gave her an unimpressed look. “Do you really think you would have gone if I told you I had everything handled and I just needed you to stall her?”

  No. She likely wouldn’t have. Elva wasn’t particularly a fan of being the bait dangled in front of enemies. She much preferred to be the person doing the fighting.

  She grumbled a quick, “Probably not.”

  Donnacha burst out laughing and traded his cousin for her. He pulled her tight against him, stealing the breath from her lungs with his hold. “Come on now, faerie. Let’s get out of here before the trolls change their mind and decide they’d rather have another fight.”

  21

  Donnacha strode toward his freedom with a feeling of elation fluttering in his breast. How could anyone else understand his emotions right now? The sudden
realization that he wasn’t cursed anymore and was free from the clutches of the worst sort of faerie.

  Elva stalked next to him, her eyes flicking from side to side as she watched the trolls let them leave without complaint. The woman wasn’t quite what he expected, he’d admit that.

  She’d come all this way for him. Found the troll kingdom, fought the princess, even managed to frighten the Troll Queen before her death. And he had no doubts the Troll Queen had been frightened. Of course, she had.

  The beast who had cursed him recognized the kind of faerie who had stood before her. It wasn’t the threat that Elva was going to attack her. She hadn’t been that kind of nervous. But that this was the future of the faerie realm. A woman who would stand for what she believed in. A woman who could take what she wanted by fire or storm and come out in the end victorious.

  Such a creature like Elva would terrify those who followed the old ways. They wouldn’t understand the way her blood curdled at the mere thought of chains around her fingers in the form of a wedding ring. They couldn’t see the way she affected the world around her without even trying.

  Elva was the future of women who were burned by lovers, family, friends. She had endured the flames, and now she walked out of the ashes a new woman. Reborn stronger, deadlier, and infinitely more capable.

  He loved her all the more for it.

  Angus turned away from the troll kingdom, back toward the home Donnacha desperately wanted to see. the dwarven kingdom whose halls of stone and emeralds called to him.

  He wanted to hear the dwarves singing. He wanted to see his family, his friends, all the people who had never given up on him. Even though they hadn’t come for him, he had felt their prayers like a wave of cool air every night.

  “Bring him home,” they had sang to the stars. “Bring him home to our arms.”

  Could he go that way, though? Elva turned in the opposite direction, magic sparking at her fingertips. She was creating a portal.

  Something in him shuddered. He realized, without question that, in that moment, if he let her go now, she would never return. She was afraid of what would happen next. In truth, so was he. What were they now that no curse stood between them?