by Susan Harper
Joanne-Jo sighed. “Fine. Urrgah, Brian, come here.”
The troll and Brian stepped forward, both looking uncomfortable. “A troll?” Chip asked. “Can the springs even launch him?”
“That’s our concern,” Joanne-Jo said smartly.
Monte rolled his eyes and scribbled down Urrgah’s information. “At least you’ve got a warlock to add to the mix,” Monte grumbled offensively.
“Um… I’m not a warlock,” Brian said.
The officials all looked directly at Brian, studying him for a moment. “You must be joking,” Zora said, pointing one of her long fingers in his direction. “Is that a mortal? No, absolutely not!”
“The new game laws allow for more diversity, and you know it,” Joanne-Jo said defensively.
“It doesn’t apply to mortals!” Chip said.
“Well, it could…” Bowman said.
“Shut up, Bowman,” Chip snapped. “This is unacceptable.”
“It’s legal, and we’re doing it,” Deimus said, stepping around Urrgah and Brian.
“I don’t think so,” Zora said.
Brian started to say something, but Monica shook her head at him. He didn’t need to say anything. Bolt, Ida, Gale, Trixie, Clowdia, and Rosemary all joined Deimus and Joanne-Jo, who were forming a barricade between Urgaah and Brian. “Neither of those two should be playing Romp-A-Roo,” Zora said, waving over their heads in Urgaah’s direction. Urgaah grunted. “It’s a warlocks’ game.”
“What are we, minced meat?” Bolt growled.
“Get out of here, Zora,” Joanne-Joe warned. “Before it gets nasty.”
“We will be filing to have them both removed from your team,” Zora said, and Urgaah shifted uncomfortably. “Although, we could overlook the troll if you let the mortal go.”
“I don’t think so,” Joanne-Jo snapped. “They have just as much of a right to play as any one of my players. Go file your complaint. I dare you.”
Zora spun on her heels. The others followed. Bowman shrugged, acting as though he didn’t care either way. The four of them disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. Urgaah grumbled in his slow troll speech, “Thank. You.”
“You’re our team member now, Urgahh. You too, Brian,” Deimus said with a half-smile. “Be back here tomorrow for our first practice. Got to get you two caught up on our plays!”
4
Saturday morning could not possibly come fast enough for Monica. She set Holly to working the shop as she waited around anxiously for Brian. He arrived right on time, dressed in a t-shirt and gym shorts with his Wysteria Werewolves jersey tucked under his arm. “First day of practice with the team, huh?” Holly said excitedly, welcoming Brian at the door.
“Yeah, I’m really excited about it,” Brian admitted. “I mean, it’s really cool that I’m involved in this whole new world I’ve just learned about, you know? It’s really weird to think about that there is this whole other town just beyond our borders that I never even knew existed, and now I’m part of their professional sports team? It’s weird, but I like it.”
“I’m impressed, honestly,” Abigail said, curled up on the back counter in her usual spot. “A mortal has never been on a Romp-A-Roo team before, right?”
“Right, but it’s not like any have ever tried out before,” Monica said. “Our world is the best well-kept-secret. Most mortals haven’t even been to a Romp-A-Roo game let alone played it. This is history in the making.”
“Monica told me that the game officials weren’t thrilled,” Holly said.
“Yeah, but I was under the impression they wouldn’t have been happy with anything other than a wizard,” Brian said.
“It used to be against the rules for anyone other than witches and warlocks,” Abigail said. “Vampires eventually worked their way into play. Dwarves. Human-like creatures. This year was the first centaur player on another team.”
“Trapper,” Monica said sadly. “He was killed earlier this year.”
“That’s terrible,” Brian said. “Wait… Do people die in Romp-A-Roo a lot?” he asked, suddenly looking nervous.
“No more than football,” Holly said.
“How would you know?” Brian asked.
“I’ve read up on Romp-A-Roo sporting statistics,” Holly said. “It’s no more dangerous than any other contact sport, especially with three witches flying around below the podiums ready to cast a spell to keep you safe if you fall. Their one job during a game is to make sure everyone has a safe landing if they overshoot.”
“I guess that makes me feel a little better,” Brian admitted.
“Coffee?” Holly asked. “I can make you your usual.”
“Not today,” Brian said. “It’s been a while since I’ve done any serious sports. Got to stay hydrated, and that means water.”
“Good for you,” Holly said, and he laughed slightly.
Monica and Brian, trailed by Abigail, bid Holly farewell before heading through the closet.
Mona greeted them with an enormous smile. “Headed off to practice?” she asked just as Deimus appeared around a corner, several books in his arms that he was sorting for Mona. During the off seasons, Deimus worked for Mona, so he could be seen in and out quite regularly.
“You pumped?” Deimus asked, smirking.
“Definitely,” Brian said.
“Coach Joanne-Jo is going to hook you up with your own locker while we’re at the stadium,” he said. “You can put your jersey there.”
“Thanks,” Brian said, still holding his jersey proudly.
Mona bid them farewell, and Monica hopped on her broom. Brian looked at her with an unsure glance. “Abigail is going to ride with Deimus. Hop on the back and hold on,” she said.
Brian glanced sideways at Deimus, who was also mounting a broom. Abigail hopped up like it was nothing. “I guess if the cat can hold on, I can,” Brian said skeptically before putting his arms around Monica. Monica kicked off, and he yelped in surprise. “Whoa…” he said a bit breathlessly as the ground grew more and more distant.
They flew out to the Romp-A-Roo fields just as some of the other team members were arriving. “What’s up!” Bolt called from the edge of the field as they all landed. Brian shook himself off a bit, still looking enthused by his first flight on a broomstick through Wysteria. Bolt and Brian high-fived, and Monica smiled. He was already getting along well with the team.
“Brian! Mortal friend!” Urrgah the troll exclaimed, and he picked Brian up by the back of his shirt.
Brian yelped in surprise.
“Whoa, easy, Urrgah!” Deimus exclaimed. “Pretty sure Brian’s not used to trolls, buddy.”
“Oh…” Urrgah said and gently put Brian back on his feet. Brian’s eyes were wide in surprise of being handled in such a way.
Monica laughed at his expense. She was just about to tell Brian she would be watching practice from the bleachers when there was a shout from center field. It was Rosemary and Trixie, waving frantically in everyone else’s direction.
The team, as well as Monica and Abigail, quickly ran over, where they saw Chip, one of the game officials, tied to the center playing post. Beaten to death. The murder weapon seemed obvious. He had enormous, round bruises, and a Romp-A-Roo ball was seated not far off in the grass covered in blood and a bit deflated from its aggressive use. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Deimus said anxiously.
Monica felt sick. The Wysteria Werewolves had already had enough negative attention, and now one of the game officials was dead on their field after a dispute the evening before. And that seemed to be the same attitude of the Wysterian authorities as they arrived, almost immediately whispering about Urrgah who, apparently, had a rather violent track record. While he had never killed anyone, the whole team learned very quickly that Urrgah had spent more than a few nights in the local jail thanks to his infamous temper.
“Urrgah no do this,” the troll swore.
“Yeah!” Bolt snapped. “Big guy has been with me all morning.”
Brian, Monica noticed, was no longer standing with the team. He seemed to have gone into cop mode, and he was wandering around the field. “If you want to accuse one of my teammates of this,” Deimus was saying angrily, “you better come at us with something more than a suspicion!”
Urrgah smiled a big, crooked smile at Deimus. “Good friend,” Urrgah told Deimus and patted him on the back, meaning to do so in a friendly manner, but he nearly knocked Deimus to the ground.
“See what we mean?” one of the authorities snapped.
“Come on, no offense to you or anything, Urrgah, but those ropes are tied pretty well… Trolls aren’t exactly… The ropes are small, and he’s got big, clumsy fingers,” Trixie said, but Urrgah didn’t seem offended in the least.
“Are the other game officials still in town?” Deimus suggested. “Maybe one of them saw something? They were probably the last ones to have seen the guy alive.”
“What is that mortal doing over there?” one of the authorities snapped, pointing at Brian, who was walking around one of the nearby outbuildings for the fields. “Is that your other new teammate, seriously?” the man asked Deimus, looking disappointed. “I mean, I get the troll. Going for brute strength, clearly, but a mortal? Here I thought Wysteria actually stood a chance of taking home the gold this year.”
“He’s good,” Deimus snapped. “And don’t you have something more important to worry about other than who Coach and I put on the team?”
Brian suddenly came trotting over. He put his hand out to one of the authorities. “My name’s Brian. I know I’m just a mortal, but on my side of the portal, I’m an officer of the law and a trained detective. I think I found something you should see.”
The authorities exchanged glances. One shrugged and elected to follow Brian. Glancing at Abigail for confirmation, the two shrugged at one another before following as well. Brian pointed out a black duffle bag that had been hidden behind a trash bin. “There’s gold and a wand inside,” Brian said.
The warlock knelt and opened the bag. “Goblin gold,” he said. He pulled out his own wand and pointed it at the one in the bag. The wand sputtered around a bit before zipping off across the field and dropping in front of Chip’s body. The authority stood. “That’s Chip’s wand.”
“So Chip shows up to the fields with a bag of gold and winds up dead. I’m assuming the gold his is, right?” Brian asks. “Otherwise, why would his wand be in here?”
“Looks that way,” Monica said.
The authority shook Brian’s hand. “Thanks for your assistance, but we will handle it from here, if you don’t mind.” The man began walking back to where everyone else had gathered. “Come on, we need to get this man’s body moved. I don’t want anyone else gawking at him.”
“Are we good to continue practice?” Deimus asked.
“Give us another half-hour,” was the reply. “We need to search the field and the surrounding area for any more evidence that might have been left behind.”
Deimus sighed. He told his team to reconvene in the locker room until they could resume practice. Brian tried to offer some additional assistance, but the Wysteria authorities assured him rather annoyingly that they did not want or need it. Monica sighed and gave Brian a quick kiss on the cheek before watching him and the rest of the team hurry off to the locker rooms. Monica remained back in the bleachers along with Abigail as they watched authorities take Chip’s body away and search the field, only to come up emptyhanded apart from the left-behind murder weapon and the bit of evidence Brian had found.
5
The following Monday morning, Monica and Holly were hard at work in Backroom Books. Brian, who had popped in for his usual morning coffee, was lingering a bit longer than usual. A handful of harpies had gotten through the portal, and they were having to chase them all down before any mortals walked through the door. The small, obnoxious creatures were stealing the coffee grinds and had eaten through half of the fresh batch of muffins Holly had baked to give out to their morning coffee customers.
“Got one!” Brian exclaimed, quite surprised at himself just as the front door opened, and Isaac came scurrying in. Brian, seemingly recalling in that moment the legalities surrounding keeping mystic truths from mortals, panicked. With nowhere else to hide the harpy, he popped the little thing in his mouth.
Monica bit her tongue to keep from laughing. The little harpy was banging on the inside of Brian’s cheek, and all the others—upon realizing that mortals evidently liked the taste of harpy—fled back through the magical portal before Isaac ever caught a whiff of anything even remotely suspicious, though he did pause at Brian, who looked like he was aggressively chewing gum. “You good, man?” Isaac asked, and Brian gave him an awkward thumbs-up before casually walking behind a bookshelf. Monica heard what she assumed to be Brian spitting out the harpy.
“Just grabbing coffee,” Isaac said, looking a bit confused by Brian’s behavior. Brian was always the serious one of their group of friends. “You know…before heading into work…” He kept glancing around trying to see what Brian was up to. “Is he good?” Isaac whispered.
“Monica made the coffee this morning,” Holly said, and Monica frowned in offense.
Isaac laughed and ordered a coffee anyhow. Taking a sip on his way out the door, he called, “It’s not that bad, Brian!” before disappearing.
Brian came wandering back, looking quite disgusted as he held a harpy by its wings. The little thing was swearing in a squeaky voice, waving its little fists around and kicking wildly, flinging a bit of Brian’s spit off the tips of its fingers in disgust. “Hey, your friends thought he ate you,” Monica said, taking the harpy from Brian. “Just be glad that wasn’t true.” She threw the little thing through the portal and closed the door. “Harpies… Honestly!”
“I have been thinking nonstop about what happened Saturday,” Brian said once the back door was closed and the harpy incident was behind them. “I want to help, but I guess Wysteria is out of my jurisdiction.”
“Aren’t you technically considered a resident of Wysteria since you live in Bankstown?” Holly asked. “That’s why you were able to try out for the local team, right?”
“Yes, but I imagine it’s quite different when it comes to law enforcement,” Brian said, and his eyes suddenly darted upward toward the clock. “Oh my gosh… I’m half an hour late! Tollr’s gonna kill me!” Brian started through the shop in a panic just as the front door opened, and the man himself walked in. Chief Tollr—Brian’s boss.
The man growled in his direction. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the station this morning?” the chief asked, looking like he was going to run Brian down for this offense. He waved in Brian’s direction. “Never mind. Obviously, you have more important things to do—like visiting your girlfriend over coffee first thing in the morning.” He spotted Monica and Holly and gave them an approving nod.
Monica spotted a harpy fluttering around by the loft, and evidently Brian spotted it too. He looked much more alarmed than Monica as the harpy descended toward Tollr. Tollr was sniffing the air like a particular scent had caught his attention. Brian crept forward, acting like he was going to pounce on the harpy before Tollr could see it, and it was only then that she realized Brian didn’t know what the chief really was. “I smell…” Tollr said, inhaling deeply. “Troll…” He spun around suddenly and snatched the harpy clear out of the air just as Brian was attempting to lunge for it. Tollr tossed the harpy over his shoulder, and Monica caught the thing before it could crash into a wall. Tollr leaned forward and sniffed Brian, which took Brian quite by surprise.
“Uh… Chief?” Brian asked, taking an uncomfortable step back.
“What’s going on?” Tollr snapped.
“Chief Tollr, I’m sorry, I should have told you,” Monica said quickly. “I got my reveal license.”
“Wait, he knows?” Brian asked, pointing a thumb at Tollr.
Tollr, for the first time, lit up in Brian’s direction. “Really!” Tollr said and punch
ed Brian in the arm in a friendly manner. “Excellent! You lucky dog. Do you have any idea how much trouble that pretty lady must have gone through to get one of those for you? No, you probably don’t. Can’t imagine she’s filled you in on mystic law too much…”
“He knows?” Brian asked again.
“Course I know! I’m a mystic!” Tollr exclaimed. “Been living on this side of the portals for ages, though.”
“You’re a mystic!” Brian asked. “What… What’s your lineage?” he asked politely as ever, having already gotten a sort of mystic etiquette 101 from Monica.
“Part troll,” Tollr said with a wink. “Hence the name. Came up with that one myself. I’ll admit in retrospect it wasn’t that clever. Trolls don’t have last names, you see. Needed one to blend in here.”
“You’re a troll?” Brian repeated, looking the chief up and down. Monica imagined that he was probably comparing Tollr to Urrgah. Apart from Tollr’s crooked teeth and mildly unattractive but still very human features, there was nothing about him that really screamed troll.
“Yes,” Tollr said matter-of-factly. “Dad was what’s called a huldrefolk, a type of troll that’s a bit less what some would call gruesome. Normal height. Didn’t have no rocks or moss growing out of him! No, sir. Mom thought he was a good-looking fellow, apparently. She was one hundred percent mortal. With a huldrefolk father and a mortal mother, I came out looking like this handsome specimen you see before you.” Tollr laughed, and Brian too laughed though a bit nervously.
“Um…earlier, you were saying you smelled…troll?” Brian asked.
The chief took another whiff. “Yeah, smells like jotnar to me.”
“Must be Urrgah,” Monica said. “Brian just joined the Wysteria Werewolves along with Urrgah the mountain troll.”
“Really!” Tollr said, clasping his hands together. “I’ve always liked Urrgah. Good fellow, really. Dumb as bricks, but a good fellow. I bet he’s going to do great! A troll on a Romp-A-Roo team! Never thought I’d see the day!” Tollr was now the happiest Monica had ever seen him. It was uncomfortable.
