The Troll-Human War

by Leah R. Cutter

  Christine gave an audible gulp. “Mine as well.” She held out her hand.

  Normally, Nik didn’t touch anyone. But for just this once, he reached across the counter and wrapped his fingers around Christine’s burning hot hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  Then, before he could back out, Nik reached into a personal pocket of space and pulled out the mirror.

  He’d left the lace doily across the face of it.

  The antique porcelain base looked tiny and frail in Christine’s huge palm. The gold rising from the base and encircling the mirror itself suddenly gained a polished gleam.

  “Don’t,” he warned Christine before she pulled the cover from the mirror. “Leave it until you’re ready to set it into the obelisk itself.” There wasn’t any reason why she couldn’t look in the mirror, but Nik wanted her to wait. Mainly because the mirror would show Christine her true self, and he was worried what she might see, having just agreed to kill him.

  “I cannot tell you how much taking this breaks my heart,” Christine said, holding the mirror as if it were the greatest treasure she’d ever encountered.

  “Me, too,” Nik said.

  A deep tone sounded through Nik’s entire body. It was as if the bell that he’d set up that told him that a customer had come through the portal had been amplified one thousand percent. He was surprised that it hadn’t shaken the walls themselves.

  “You need to go. Now,” he said.

  Christine gave him a puzzled look.

  “Now!” Nik shouted. He didn’t want Christine to have to witness what was coming.

  “I will always remember you, my friend,” she said. Tears poured down her face. Then she turned and raced out of the sanctuary of the store.

  Nik knew he only had seconds.

  Luckily, he’d prepared for this.

  The shelves started to empty themselves. Ingredients flew toward the various waiting portals that suddenly sprang up along the far wall.

  He was giving his entire stock to the humans and others who were fighting the war against the demons. Plus instructions for how to counter some of the worst of the spells the demons were casting, that he’d supplied ingredients for.

  Svetlana didn’t make her appearance until the final shelf had been cleared.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” she said, looking around the room. While the shelves remained, everything else had vanished. Even the posters had been sent back to the manufacturers. The lights glared down, as bright as the noonday sun in the desert. Instead of smelling faintly of incense and warm velvet, the shop had a baked scent, like hot rock.

  Nik raised his chin defiantly. “I knew the time was coming,” he said. “That you would come for me for breaking my neutrality.”

  “Which is why I waited until you were finished distributing everything,” Svetlana told him with a smile. Her gray robes seemed a little brighter that day. Though for some reason, her golden hair seemed a bit off, like it had been dyed the wrong shade of blonde.

  “Are you ready?” Svetlana said. A tall sword sprang up in her hands. Though she held the shaft of it close to her waist, the tip of it rose far above her head, covered in glowing white flames.

  “I am,” Nik said. He stepped from around the counter for the last time, facing the angel.

  Instead of violently swinging the sword and removing his head, as Nik had expected, Svetlana tenderly lowered the blade until it kissed his shoulder, like a queen knighting a beloved champion. Then she swung it around and touched his other shoulder.

  It didn’t hurt. Not exactly. It was more like a surprising heat shooting through him, like being touched by a hot iron that abruptly cooled.

  Nik’s body trembled. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

  He felt himself rise up, following the sword as Svetlana pulled it away.

  No, just his consciousness rose up.

  His little wooden body that had served him so well for centuries tumbled to the ground, like a marionette whose strings had just been cut.

  Nik was surprised that he was still aware. “What happens next?” he said. Or he tried to say. Somehow, he managed to communicate the thought as he rose up through the ceiling, flying after Svetlana.

  He felt, rather than saw, the brilliant smile. “Someone is waiting for you. Has been, for the longest time.”

  They reached a different plane, traveling from the human night to this new place in the blink of an eye, without using a portal.

  Damned angels. How did they do that?

  This place wasn’t well formed. Nik felt the potential, however. It felt raw, not sterile but barren. Just waiting for the right seed to take hold. It seemed to be primarily made of rocks and ice, sentient fog and dripping water.

  A figure rose up in front of Nik.

  He gasped.

  The being—no, human—had Nik’s face. His old face. The one he’d been born with, the one that he’d looked at occasionally in the mirror of truth. Dark hair and brooding eyes, thin lips with a sharp smile.

  The human held his arms open.

  Nik had no choice but to rush forward, to be reunited with the rest of his soul. He felt himself sink into the human body. Except it wasn’t a body. Not really. It was merely a vase to hold his full being.

  Whole for the first time in centuries, Nik turned to face Svetlana.

  He gasped as the blonde wig flew off and the true nature of the angel was revealed.

  Finally. He remembered.

  Svetlana. His former wife. The one whom he’d betrayed and killed because of the influence of the demons.

  He discovered that the shell his soul wore could cry in this place.

  “Are you finally ready to join me?” Svetlana asked. Her voice held the terrible warnings that only an angel could manage, along with warmth and glad tidings.

  Nik sighed. He’d stayed on earth to try to make up for the horrible things he’d done during the last Great War. He knew that he’d made a difference, despite the promise of neutrality that he’d upheld.

  There was still so much to do.

  However, it was now someone else’s turn to do it.

  “I am,” Nik said.

  He stepped forward, reaching for the angel’s outstretched hand.

  Together they flew off as Nik grew his wings and left all things human behind.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “How the heck does this thing go together?” Christine groused as she looked at the scattered pieces of the obelisk of truth.

  She’d set them out on the floor of her living room once she could finally face looking at the mirror again. She didn’t have the time to mourn Nik and his sacrifice properly. Still, she’d given herself a single night. Now, in the morning, she needed to forge ahead.

  She promised herself that she’d grieve for him properly later.

  She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to forgive herself, however. Causing his death cut her more deeply than any of the other souls she’d condemned.

  Damn this war. Damn Lars and his demons.

  Christine knew she didn’t have much time. There were already too many rumors of kith and kin races meeting with the demons, possibly signing pacts with them, switching sides, preparing to come and storm the human plane.

  She sat cross-legged on the good solid dirt of her living space. It gave her some comfort, as it always did. She wore a simple shirt and yoga pants, hoping to feel comfortable in her skin, though she doubted that would occur for a long, long time. Books surrounded her, still the balm of her soul. She’d fixed her favorite coffee that morning, then added heavy cream, vanilla, and honey. Yum.

  She picked up the vase, Vern’s vase, supposedly the base of the obelisk. It was small and frail, a child’s creation. How could it possibly support the huge statue that was Dennis’ torso? She knew that if she tried to rest the heavy marble on top of the delicate porcelain, it would shatter.

  Then there was Tina’s head. Mostly, that had turned out to be metaphorical, as Tina had had to get her h
ead straightened out before she could help Christine and the war.

  Still, they’d needed some physical object, some memento of their visit to the Sammuthians. They couldn’t take the entire lake with them. Tina had tried dipping a stone in the water, seeing if it would cling appropriately, coat the rock as it had coated her hand, but that didn’t work either.

  Finally, after being scolded by King Sam for despoiling the natural setting by trying to take a rock with them, they were escorted to the gift shop.

  Tina was instantly drawn to a snow globe that showed the lake and the mountains. It was about a foot tall, a thick glass ball sitting on top of a cherry wood square base. When she shook it, the silver flakes glowed brightly as they swirled, before the slowly floated back down.

  So—Tina’s head. At least Tina had made the joke about how empty it had seemed before Christine (or someone else) did.

  Then there was Nik’s mirror. Christine had left it covered as he’d requested. She wanted to flick the white lace doily away, but she restrained herself.

  It had been one of his last requests. She would honor that, even when her soul told her that there was no need.

  She hadn’t tried pinging the store that morning. She didn’t want to be confronted with the truth of his death. Not yet. In her mind, he could still be alive, stocking the shelves of the emporium, waiting on customers, taking delight in a hard bargain.

  Where did the mirror go? In the center of the piece? How was she supposed to attach it? Did it go on the top? How the hell was she supposed to balance the mirror on top of the round snow globe?

  Christine called up her air power, seeing if it had heard any hints or rumors about how to assemble this thing, but it had no idea either.

  Using her magic, Christine floated all the objects up off the ground. Holding them there, she could assemble them in the order they belonged.

  But they didn’t magically weld themselves together, didn’t flow or mold themselves into an actual obelisk. That only happened in Hollywood movies.

  Christine let the pieces settle back down onto the ground again. She picked up the map she had sitting beside her. It didn’t show her anything new. Every time she’d found a piece, an animation would spring up, showing her the next piece, giving her its name and where it was located.

  Now that she had all the pieces assembled together, whatever magic the map had once held had flowed out of the world.

  What was she supposed to do? Who would know? It wouldn’t be Tina, that much Christine realized. Tina had been instrumental in collecting the pieces. She wasn’t supposed to put them together.

  Tina had come up with a brilliant plan for how Christine was going to display the obelisk to her troops.

  If Christine could ever fit the damned thing together.

  Who else was left? Ty had already helped her find the various worlds. She doubted her bio-dad would be able to help. Maybe she could go back to the oracles? No, that didn’t feel right either.

  Christine took a last sip of her coffee. Damned, that was good.

  She couldn’t stay here, though, buried in her comfortable home. She had to figure this out.

  Who did she know who was good at puzzles?

  She tried to dismiss the thought that came instantly to her mind.

  But it remained.

  Mum.

  “Hello, dear,” Mum said, coming over to the table where Christine sat, arms held out.

  Christine didn’t like to hug or touch anyone. Particularly not a human. That was just part of her innate troll nature.

  She still accepted a mum hug gladly, realizing just how much she’d missed that.

  “I’m so glad that you called and wanted to do lunch today,” Mum said. She sat down gracefully in her chair, then reached out and took her daughter’s hand, squeezing it. “No business before ordering,” she added sternly.

  Christine grinned at her. “Got it,” she said, picking up her own menu.

  She’d chosen a restaurant close to her mum’s office. It was strictly a human place, as far as Christine could tell. Still, she was going to have to come back here, and probably bring Ty, as this place served MEAT. She could order it by the slice, or by the quarter, half, or whole pound. The entire room smelled of the charcoal grill they had going in the kitchen.

  The side dishes all looked yummy, including homemade sweet potato tatter tots and brussel sprouts grilled with honey and bacon.

  After ordering a sampler of both appetizers as well as meats and sauces, Christine took a deep breath.

  “You go first,” Mum said, obviously reading the impatience of her daughter.

  “Thanks,” Christine said. “I have a puzzle to put together now. All the pieces that go into the obelisk of truth. But I can’t figure out how to assemble it.” She tried to keep the low growl out of her voice.

  “They don’t magically fit together?” Mum asked.

  Christine shook her head. “Nope. Or physically,” she added.

  “Tell me about the pieces,” Mum said.

  So Christine explained about the vase, the sculpture, the snow globe, and the mirror. She didn’t mention that Nik was dead. That wound was still too fresh.

  Mum realized that there was something wrong as Christine went on to describe the mirror, reaching out to squeeze her daughter’s arm, though she didn’t interrupt.

  “The pieces must have a theme,” Mum said after a moment. “What do all the pieces mean, emotionally, to you?”

  Christine blinked, surprised. Mum wasn’t really the touchy-feely type. She’d generally had to be the practical parent, given her dad’s frequent flights of fancy.

  “Dad’s vase—he said it was a father’s pride,” Christine said quietly. It still filled her with quiet stillness, to feel Dad’s love that way. “Dennis’s statue is all about being ‘born ready,’”, Christine said. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She thought for a moment. “Dennis is my big brother. Maybe he was ‘born ready’ to take care of his little sister.”

  Mum nodded her encouragement. “So how do those fit together?” she asked.

  Christine shrugged. “They’ve got me in common, I guess.” But she still didn’t see how they all fit.

  “So tell me about Tina,” Mum said.

  Christine gave Mum the abbreviated version, about how Tina had been influenced by demons to the point where she’d thought that Christine had stolen her Destiny.

  “But she’s finally free from all influence,” Christine said. She was aware that while that was technically true, the repercussions of that influence were likely to be around for a while.

  “As you said before, Tina’s head is now clear,” Mum said. “As clear as that glass ball.”

  “And she’s ready to fight. She has her magic back,” Christine said. She had sympathized so much with Tina’s plight as she still remembered when her own magic had been blocked, split apart and held separately.

  “She’s ready to fight for you,” Mum corrected gently.

  “It isn’t all about me,” Christine said uncomfortably.

  Mum merely raised an eyebrow in Christine’s direction.

  “It isn’t. It can’t be,” Christine insisted, though now she was starting to wonder.

  “And what did Nik give you?” Mum asked after a moment.

  “Nik gave me everything,” Christine said, her voice suddenly cracking. “Don’t—don’t ask about it. Not yet,” she warned, holding her hand up.

  “I see,” Mum said. “I’m sorry,” she added. She looked as though she wanted to give her daughter a hug, but she wasn’t about to reach across the table to do so.

  A father’s pride. A brother’s support. The clear vision of her friends. And the willingness to lay down their lives for her. To stop this war.

  Suddenly, Christine saw her mistake.

  The pieces were, in fact, not for her. She already had these things. The obelisk of truth merely let her realize her own resources, the depths of her support. She didn’t need to find them.


  The obelisk would only assemble itself for those who needed it. The demoralized troops. The kith and kin races that had been corrupted by the demons. Even the humans who were suffering from demonic influence.

  They were the ones who needed to see the truth.

  Christine and Tina had already come up with a plan for how to survive the coming attack by Lars, and how Christine would escape from the trap he’d so carefully laid.

  It wouldn’t take much modification for Christine to be able to assemble the obelisk, hold the pieces ready, for her troops to view.

  “Thank you,” Christine said finally. She was aware that she’d been “away” for a while, figuring out her victory.

  “You’re welcome,” Mum said. She sighed. “Are you sure that you have the pieces now? That you have a winning game plan?”

  Christine nodded. “I think I do. As Nik said, there’s no guarantee that we will win. But I think we have a fighting chance finally.”

  “Good,” Mum said firmly.

  She pressed her lips together as if she wanted to say more.

  “What is it?” Christine said. Mum had seemed really eager to meet her for lunch. What was going on?

  Mum sighed. “It’s your father,” she said finally. “I’ve been fine with him merely gathering names and going to political caucuses, raising support for you and your armies. But war is fought by young men and women, being directed by older, wiser heads. Not by old soldiers.”

  “What do you mean?” Christine said, confused. That certainly seemed like an accurate description of human warfare. Kith and kin fought together, young and old alike.

  “Your father has decided to join the army,” Mum said. “Your army. He’s going to get himself killed.”

  “No,” Christine said. “I won’t let him.”

  “Too late. He’s already joined up.”

  Christine cursed under her breath. Though given the look Mum just shot her, she hadn’t said it quietly enough.

  “I’ll stop him,” Christine said. Though she wasn’t exactly sure how.

  Mum shook her head. “You can’t stop him. He’s made up his mind. Just protect him. Bring him back home alive.”