The Troll-Human War

by Leah R. Cutter

  “So what exactly do you need me to do?” Dennis asked.

  “We need to go up into Ballard later,” Christine said. “Probably around midnight. Then I’d like you to ask the oracles what we need, exactly, in order to win the war.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone asked them before this?” Dennis said, confused. It seemed like such an obvious thing to do. “I mean, if they have the information, why don’t they just tell us?”

  Christine gave a snort. “I think it’s in their damned handbook to never give a straight answer to any question,” she said. “They’re always obscure and they use a lot of weasel words so that even if whatever they’ve predicted never occurs, they can still claim that they’re right.”

  “Sound like con men to me,” Dennis said.

  “Exactly,” Christine said. “And that’s why I think you’ll be the best man for the job.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Dennis said sharply. What, did Christine really think of him as someone who lied for a living?

  Then again, he did sometimes stretch the truth. A little. In places.

  “Why don’t you ask Dad?” Dennis said after their waitress came back and deposited Dennis’s drink in front of him.

  Christine gave another expressive sigh. Really, it was fascinating how well he could read those, even given the current noise levels.

  This one was less frustrated, more worried.

  “Dad’s…changed since he really started practicing magic, you know?” she said after a moment.

  “I’ll say,” Dennis replied. Dad had changed. He was still goofy, but he seemed to get lost inside his head more. He’d explained it—he said that he just seemed to notice so much more of the world now that he got distracted by it more easily.

  “Besides, Dad had a meeting tonight. Some sort of caucus,” Christine added.

  “And we have to go tonight because?” Dennis asked.

  “Because the oracles only have a few open spots whenever they show up. Most of their time is already taken up by people on the list,” Christine explained.

  “Will they have time to talk to us?” Dennis said. “Or will we have to go on a waiting list for some future time?”

  “They’ll talk to us,” Christine growled. “I’ll make damned sure of it.”

  Dennis forced a smile onto his face. He’d never expected to be intimidated by his own sister before. Or hell, even scared by her. “There’s my shy librarian,” Dennis teased, forcing his own smile.

  For a moment, Dennis worried that he’d gone too far. Christine’s face took on a menacing glare. He could tell that she considered punching him.

  “Sis?” Dennis said, uncertain.

  Christine shook her head, all the anger flowing out of her. She gave him a half smile. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I needed that, more than you realize.”

  “What’s going on?” Dennis said. “No, really. What’s going on? What’s got you so tightly wound up?”

  “You know we’re losing the war, right?” Christine said. “I’m running out of options here. And warriors. And ideas. I need some help. Quickly. And right now, every death, every loss, is just getting more and more personal.”

  Dennis nodded, worried. He’d known on an intellectual level that the war was going to change his sister. He should have realized that, at least while it was still going on, she would grow darker.

  “It’s okay,” Dennis said.

  Christine glared at him.

  “No, really,” Dennis said. “It would completely totally suck for most of humanity if you did lose. I get that. And I’m sure that you’re going to blame yourself no matter what happens. However, I know you. You will do your best, and beyond. No one could ask any more.”

  Christine blinked.

  Wait, were those tears in her eyes?

  She sniffed. “You’re demented.”

  “Look who’s calling who crazy,” he replied immediately.

  Christine snorted. “Yeah, there is that.” She gave him a smile, a true smile, probably the first one she’d given him all evening. “Thanks,” she said again.

  “You’re welcome,” Dennis said.

  The waitress came back and they ordered hot, spicy Mexican food. When Christine left to use the restroom, Dennis took a deep breath, realizing that he’d just taken on yet another task for the war beyond recruiting individuals for Christine.

  It wasn’t to remind Christine of what she was fighting for. She saw that every time she came back to the human plane.

  No, it was to keep Christine from doubting herself. She was already giving her all.

  He just had to make sure that she didn’t lose herself in the process.

  Chapter Ten

  Though it was only a Tuesday night, there were still large crowds of people on Market Street in Ballard, moving from one restaurant or bar to the next. Then again, August had been beastly hot, and it was only cool at night. While some of the swarming crowd were probably locals, most of them appeared to be tourists, at least to Christine’s practiced eye.

  She was pretty sure that it was an all human crowd. Since the war had started, the kith and kin had stopped coming across the bridge to just visit. Most beings were either actively fighting or building up their barricades and reserves.

  Normally, it was difficult for demons or for anyone who wasn’t a member of a kith and kin race to get to a closed plane that was defined as a home world. However, that damned corrupted eruption spell that the demons had come up with had been very effective in transporting armies to places where they shouldn’t have been able to go.

  No place was safe. That pissed Christine off more than most anything else.

  However, it wasn’t just the eruption spell. The demons were tunneling through to other planes, too. No one had been able to figure out just how they were doing it.

  Fortunately, none of the demons had felt like challenging her that evening. Or rather, fortunate for them. Christine was in no mood for any of their shit. She’d seen the one hanging out with the posse of street kids outside the Mexican restaurant on Capitol Hill. Others had popped up throughout the night. She assumed they were part of an informal spy network that tracked her every movement.

  If only she could find Lars. She had no idea if she’d be able to beat him in combat. He was likely to cheat and wouldn’t attack her by himself.

  That was okay. She might have come up with a few plans and scenarios herself for when they finally did meet.

  She knew that Ty was still hunting for Lars. She’d informed the demon hunter to not engage Lars when he did find the demon, but to just signal her.

  Christine did have people watching the Sorgenfreys’ house, but no one had seen Lars go in or out of it. Then again, there were probably portals inside the house that allowed Lars as well as anyone meeting him free access.

  No one would believe Christine when she told them that Lars was hiding in plain sight on the human plane. But she knew that was where he was.

  Too bad she couldn’t just storm the place. It wouldn’t have been that difficult to arrange. However, it would have been useless, as once they started the process, Lars would have slipped away through a portal.

  Dennis walked beside Christine. He looked a little out of place in his Seahawks jersey, particularly in a place as hippy as this. She understood why Dennis had changed into it before meeting her at the restaurant. She appreciated his efforts more than she could say. He was a big reason why her side was still afloat in terms of the battles.

  Without him, they might have been wiped out already.

  Christine was glad that she’d chosen to wear a white sleeveless tank top that night, along with a pair of black shorts with a cute twirly skirt over them. They might not be the most trendy thing on the market, but if she needed to fight, she’d rather not be hemmed in by modesty. Particularly on the human plane.

  They’d had to park several blocks away from their destination. Christine was sweating just from the short walk. She was going to be so glad when this summe
r was over. At least they’d been able to walk past the Ballard library. Such a nice building, with a green garden on top.

  There were days when Christine missed being an archivist librarian. Having set hours, set tasks. Limited people contact.

  As they walked, Dennis had kept up a running commentary about the various kith and kin races that he’d been meeting with. She gave him some tips about communicating with the others.

  Finally, they turned the corner, going down Twenty-Second Avenue towards Market Street, and Christine could see the line of tree statues.

  The park was an odd triangle-shaped piece of land where five streets came together. Christine had read that it had been dedicated to the city of Bergen in Norway, and that more than one king of Norway had flown over to recognize the place.

  She’d wondered, more than once, about getting someplace on the human plane dedicated to Trollville. Besides the troll under the Fremont bridge.

  Maybe she’d have to try and sanctify it someday. Or something. She wasn’t quite sure how that worked.

  All of the wooden poles holding up the trees themselves had a faint blue, magical tinge to them. There were surely portals set up between at least four of them. But which one went to the oracles?

  Sitting on top of the five poles were various artistic representations of trees. The first one looked like a child’s rendition of a tree, with a plain wooden trunk and five individual tall leaves sticking up out of the branches like a weird hand.

  Beside it was a tree made up of great blue-and-white porcelain balloons, looking more like a group of jellyfish tied to a wooden pole rather than a tree.

  Christine sighed. She’d never be able to understand abstract art, let alone human art. She’d always taken that as a personal failing until she finally figured out that she wasn’t actually human.

  At least the statue next to the jellyfish looked almost like a tree—more like a round pine tree made out of clam shells. And the one after that also looked pretty tree like. The last one though was just a thumb of concrete sticking up on top of the pole.

  “They’re all different representations of trees,” Dennis said, reading from his phone. “An immigrant tree, a primordial tree, stuff like that.”

  “Okay,” Christine said. She’d have to go do research later.

  She remembered a time when she loved doing research, looked forward to it on a regular basis. That old life seemed so far away from her now…

  A placard standing on the corner caught her eye. It advertised a walking tour of Ballard.

  “Want to go on a tour?” Dennis snerked as he came up beside her.

  Christine silently pointed to the bottom right corner of the sign. The tour was led by the Oracles of Seattle, LLC. Their logo was a pyramid with an eye floating just above the point.

  “So, you folks here to take the tour?” came a voice from behind them.

  Christine glanced over her shoulder, then straightened up and turned right around. She barely contained her growl. Her claws wanted to shoot right out. Where was her ax?

  The being wasn’t an angel, but was probably related. She shone with her own light, disturbingly bright. She had on a neon-fuchsia T-shirt that proclaimed “Tour Guide” across her ample chest. Her blonde-brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, her skin sun-kissed. She looked to be in her late twenties, though Christine suspected that her actual age was probably more like two hundred years old.

  The kith and kin’s usual allies were the demons, so they were most comfortable with those types of beings. Angels were very disturbing for all of the kith and kin. Christine had met a couple, and while she didn’t have nightmares about them, she really never wanted to repeat the experience.

  “Hi,” Dennis said shyly. “Yes, we would like to take the tour.”

  The being gave Dennis a blinding smile that set Christine’s own teeth on edge. “You would be most welcome,” she said directly to Dennis in a voice that probably sounded like honey to him. “And you?” she said, turning to frown at Christine, her voice now holding a distinct edge.

  Christine forced herself to smile instead of seeing whether or not her tusks could tear this creature’s throat out before she had a chance to fight back.

  “I am Princess Kizalynn Linumok Te’Dur,” Christine said, announcing herself. “We have a question to put before the oracle.”

  Christine got an immense sense of satisfaction from the confusion that flowed across the being’s face.

  “She’s my sister,” Dennis proclaimed proudly.

  “I see,” the being said, still looking confused. “I need to verify that we have enough tickets and that we aren’t sold out. Just a second.”

  She turned and hurried away.

  “Wow,” Dennis said, unable to take his eyes off her perfect bottom. “Where do I sign up for something like that?”

  “She’s part angel, dummy,” Christine pointed out, still unsettled. “She wouldn’t have anything to do with you.” She hadn’t meant for the words to come out in such a growl, but she was still unsettled.

  “Oh,” Dennis said. “Too important for me, huh?”

  “Huh?” Christine responded, completely confused. “No. It has nothing to do with your rank or your family. She isn’t human. What’s gotten into you?”

  Dennis heaved a heavy sigh. “Nothing. I’m fine,” Dennis said, pasting an obviously fake smile on his face. “Do you think they’ll let us in?”

  “They better,” Christine growled.

  “Ah, Princess Kizalynn,” came a new masculine voice that was just as disturbing as the girl’s had been.

  Christine plastered a smile on her face and turned. The man looked older than the girl. Maybe mid-fifties, Asian, and just as fucking annoying, setting Christine’s back right up just with his presence. He wore the same neon-pink T-shirt and carried a clipboard. His black hair was shaved on one side of his head, the hair on the other half flopping over. Speckles of gray glinted in the streetlights. He wore a bright silver whistle around his neck, like what a coach would use.

  “Yes?” Christine said when the man didn’t continue.

  “It is such an honor to meet you,” the man said earnestly. “My name’s Ko San. This is Laurie. The great oracle Toby announced earlier that an unexpected visitor would arrive tonight, and that we should escort you directly to him.”

  “Really?” Christine asked, surprised. Normally, any proclamation by the oracles wasn’t that clear.

  Then again, if he’d just proclaimed an “important visitor” was coming by, he could have then declared that anyone showing up was important.

  She glanced over at Dennis, but he only had eyes for Laurie.

  While Laurie appeared to be giving Dennis a shy smile in return.

  Ah, shit.

  Well, at least Christine only liked trolls and wasn’t going to be bringing a demon home for dinner anytime soon.

  They had to wait for another fifteen minutes until it was time for the tour to start. Dennis and Christine wandered around the small park, reading the plaques on all the trees

  The plaque for the jellyfish tree—also known as the immigration tree—described how Chinese porcelain and Danish patterns intermingled. It made sense to Christine, as most human families really did intermingle a lot. Troll families didn’t, at least not according to her bio dad, Te’Dur.

  He found it perfectly reasonable that she preferred trolls to any other being in terms of a mate. Trolls tended to be that way. There weren’t many troll families who were mixed. Unlike, say, orcs, elves, giants, or even fairies. Brownies and pixies also tended to be homogeneous.

  All the history and genetics had fascinated Christine, who’d wanted to learn more, but of course, there were no histories or ethnobiographies.

  When this damned war was over, she was planning on funding an entire college to do that sort of study.

  In the meanwhile, she had to put up with Dennis sighing every time he spotted Laurie standing next to the tour sign, trying to get more people to si
gn up.

  “You know, you could ask for her number,” Christine told him.

  Dennis looked at her, surprised. “You said she wouldn’t go out with me.”

  She shrugged. “How will you know if you don’t try?”

  “You think I have a chance?” Dennis asked, his eyes wide.

  “What, are you suddenly twelve years old?” Christine said. “Why are you scared?”

  “Because she’s perfect,” Dennis said breathlessly.

  “You understand that I’m never going to be able to see that,” Christine said in an effort to not roll her eyes too hard. “But she might be amenable, given the looks she’s been giving you.”

  “She’s been looking at me?” Dennis asked, still sounding breathless.

  Christine glared at him when he gave her a big grin, obviously teasing her back.

  “I will ask her out, after the tour,” Dennis assured Christine. “After the tour.” He sounded confident for once.

  “No, now,” Christine said. “You don’t know if she’ll still be here at the end of the tour.”

  “Really?” Dennis said, doubt shading his voice. “What if she says no?”

  “Then you’ll know,” Christine told him. “And you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering, or regretting that you let the perfect one get away. Life’s just too damned short.”

  Dennis speared her with a sharp look. Then he nodded. “You’re right.” He straightened his back, growing tall and strong, then he marched over to where Laurie was still standing, like a soldier going into battle.

  From where Christine stood, it appeared as though the conversation was going fairly well. At least it appeared that Laurie hadn’t shot Dennis down right away.

  Still, he was still partially slumped over as he walked back over to her.

  “She said it will depend on what the great oracle Toby says,” Dennis told Christine.

  Christine shook her head, puzzled. What the hell did that have to do with anything?

  “It seems that she’s related to the oracle, like a second cousin or something,” Dennis continued.