The Troll-Human War

by Leah R. Cutter

  Though it made Christine’s soul ache to the very core of her being, all she could say was, “I’ll try.” She couldn’t promise to keep him alive. It was war, after all.

  And even if he did come back with all his fingers and toes, Christine knew that wasn’t enough. War would change her dad, like it had changed her. She could protect his physical body. But she couldn’t protect his soul.

  How could she get him to turn away from this course? Could she stop him? Or was the war going to destroy her entire family?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Buddy stamped his approval on the final war plans that the Supreme General had submitted to the Ultimate General. The bloody ink gave a satisfying squishing sound. Buddy had had the stamp made up just to approve war plans. It was at least six inches long and three inches wide, obscuring the print below it. His PR department had consulted with him on the design, recommending the huge, bloody thing. It was one of the ways he could divert attention away from the creator of the plan back to himself.

  However, Buddy was aware that his approval was literally just a rubberstamp at this point. Even without his approval, Lars would go ahead with his plans.

  Buddy had considered withholding his approval. That way, if Lars failed, Buddy would have an additional fallback plan and could disassociate himself from the disaster more easily.

  The last few weeks had taught Buddy how to plan better. He’d actually learned more about planning from Lars. Buddy was a big enough demon to admit that—to himself, when he was all alone in his office. Never out loud or in front of anyone else.

  He had a reputation to maintain.

  If Lars failed, it would take Buddy a while to regain his standing among the princes of Hell. The rest of the cowards would be sure to blame Buddy for all their grievances.

  And Buddy had plans for them as well.

  In the meanwhile, Buddy would go along with what Lars had planned. Christine was merely a troll. They weren’t known for being sneaky. Or even that smart. She’d fall for Lars’ schemes, expose herself and her troops, and would fall.

  And when she fell, all the worlds would fall.

  Sure, there would be some hanger-oners, the ones who would keep fighting after their general was defeated. They wouldn’t last long.

  And then…and then! Buddy couldn’t help but get up from behind his desk and waggle his butt around, doing a hopping dance that had yet to catch on with the cool kids. He waved his arms in the air and shook his tail.

  And then Lars would know his true place in the scheme of things. He wouldn’t be able to resist the charms of Curly.

  Buddy was sure to come out on top. He always did.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lars looked out from his perch, high above the demon camps. He reclined on a long couch in his full demon form, all long and snaky. The struts that made up his wings had been polished by a bone smith just the night before, all the spikes on his tail were razor sharp, and he’d even drunk a bit of caustic human soda in his demon form, to insure that the acid of his spit was particularly corrosive.

  Tents and barracks stretched out from the rock mountain Lars sat on to the horizon. The smell of cooking fires and rangy demons made Lars’ heart sing.

  So many demons from all over had been assembled for him! Earlier that afternoon, he’d sat on his perch and let representatives from each group parade before him.

  Not all of the demons would bow down to him. Demons were touchy about lowering their heads. But they would see the brilliance of Lars and would kneel. Particularly once Lars decisively won this battle. All demons on all the planes would hold him in awe.

  His planning was flawless. He didn’t have a single plan, but multiple contingencies, because no single plan survived contact with the enemy.

  By the end of this battle, Lars was going to have Christine’s head on a plaque behind his desk.

  The world would fall and the demons would be on top, the natural order of things restored.

  “Sir!” One of the demon generals came bouncing up to where Lars sat. It was Moe, Lars realized after a moment. The demon’s armor strained around his pudgy middle, the strings holding the chainmail corset together frayed. He wore a helmet stolen from the trolls, with a peaked ridge running down the center. His ax looked sturdy and well used.

  “The enemy has just landed a huge force in the home world of the rowdy boys,” Moe said with glee. “I wanted to be the one to personally tell you the news.”

  Only then did Lars notice the blood that still dripped from Moe’s ax. Had he killed the original messenger? Possibly. It was a good thing that demons could reproduce quickly and were naturally fearsome fighters, or Lars might have worried more about the in-troop fighting.

  “Is Christine with them?” Lars asked, sliding to the front of the long couch he reclined on.

  “She is! She is!” Moe said, bobbing his head up and down, his entire body shaking as though it were composed of a thick gelatin. “Should I alert the shock troops?”

  Lars considered for a moment. “No,” he said slowly. “We’re going with plan 4B, subsection 16.”

  Moe screwed up his face in concentration. “Was that the one where we don’t send the shock troops in?”

  Lars sighed. It was so hard to get good help these days, even with all the competition among his generals for the top ranks. No one had his head for plans.

  “We send the shock troops. And the secondary troops. But we hold back the primary troops until later.”

  “Oh, yes, I see,” Moe said, bobbing again.

  “I’ll alert the troops,” Lars said dryly. The only way to make sure that things got done right was to do it himself, sometimes.

  Christine wouldn’t be expecting wave after wave of demon forces all coming to attack.

  As well as his other surprises.

  Lars (and a couple of other generals who could fly) floated above the field of battle, spying on the enemy.

  He had to admit that he wasn’t expecting Christine’s troops to be so well dug in. Had she been assembling them secretly for a while? It took him a moment to realize that all the earth foundations were new and had been dug by the trolls.

  Generally, the kith and kin didn’t work together like that. Each army was separate and fought on their own.

  Huh.

  He’d have to take that into account the next time he battled with a group of kith and kin. Though there weren’t likely to be any other battles as big as this one.

  Still, he could put it in his memoirs. He’d already started writing those. He knew it was a useless exercise. The twelve volume set he had planned would only be used as punishment for younger demons coming up.

  But he hoped that he would influence at least one or two young demons along the way. The ones who were smart enough to see how useful a plan could be.

  The swelling roar of his troops washed over Lars like a lullaby, giving him goosebumps all across his shoulders, under his scales. Though this wasn’t a time for sleep, but a time to commit the art of war.

  “Charge!” Lars heard the calls and the discordant horns sing out from up and down the line.

  The assembled armies of the kith and kin charged forward as well.

  The clash was epic. Lars reveled in the sounds of shields clanking, swords gutting foes, and bones breaking. Chaos swirled below him as the two groups swept into one another.

  There was no line to hold. No palace or city to defend. It was merely two huge assemblies in the deadly dance of war.

  He was going to have to remember that line for his memoirs.

  A solid thwack on his upper shoulder brought Lars’ attention back to the field below him.

  What the hell? Who had the audacity…

  Oh.

  That damned troll in her golden helmet stood beneath him.

  And she had the gall to grin up at him. It was about all he could see of her face.

  “So you gonna just lollygag around all day? Or actually join the battle?” she taunted hi
m.

  Lars spewed a stream of acid her direction. It spattered harmlessly down around her, one of those stupid powers of hers keeping her safe.

  “I’d planned on letting you watch your entire troop be destroyed before coming to fight you,” Lars said. “Letting the loss demoralize you.”

  Even from the distance he could hear her derisive snort.

  “But since you’re in such a hurry to die, I may as well accommodate you,” he said, flowing down gracefully.

  Ah, he was definitely going to have to remember his words, as they’d put that perfect, biting humor for all future demons to behold.

  Behold my mighty works, and despair! Or something to that effect.

  Lars went to engage not only his enemy, but his future.

  Damn! Christine had been hiding how strong her magic had gotten. Lars flew back again as her winds knocked him to the side. When had she gotten so skilled? So powerful?

  But he saw the flaw in her fighting technique. While her magic was good, her physical form wasn’t as strong as he’d first believed. She fought as if she’d only been doing it for a few weeks, not a few years. Heck, she almost threw her ax at him the first time they’d engaged, instead of turning and spinning and striking again, as he’d seen her do before.

  Honestly, it had thrown him off. A little.

  Her magic had saved her more than once from his most devious attack, that snake-strike-punch he’d worked up just for her, an attack he was certain she wouldn’t be able to recover from.

  He hadn’t even gotten close enough to her to be able to execute the final blow.

  Why was she so different? What had he gotten wrong?

  In all honesty, if he could withdraw from the battle for a while, he would. Re-review the recordings he’d made of her fighting.

  It was almost as if someone else were fighting for her…

  Damn it!

  Lars rushed forward again, intent on getting close enough to get a good snoutful of her scent. He flew up and over as she jolted him with a lightning attack that Christine had never executed before.

  His nose finally told him the truth. That wasn’t Christine. Hell, it wasn’t even a troll, but a human in troll’s armor.

  “Who are you?” Lars demanded as he reared back in front of her.

  “Took you long enough,” came the disdainful reply.

  His opponent took off her helmet. Blonde hair came tumbling down.

  Tina. The woman he’d tried to marry at one point in order to twist her Destiny. The one that he’d been able to corrupt so thoroughly.

  Why hadn’t anyone told him that the demonic influence had worn off?

  He considered racing toward her again, engulfing her in a series of blows that she’d never be able to defend against. Giving himself at least the satisfaction of her death.

  Except…wait. If Tina was here, where the hell was Christine?

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Lars growled at Tina. He turned midair, only to find himself held there firmly.

  Tina was a lot stronger magician than she looked.

  How could she hold him like this?

  He struggled to release himself, freeing first one claw then the next. It was only when he dropped down to the ground that he was able to shake off the spell.

  When next he regained the air, he realized that he’d been fooled.

  The fight with Tina had been a distraction. He wasn’t supposed to see what was going on behind him. He had missed the rest of the battle.

  Christine floated above the center of the field, like some stupid Christ figure, with her arms outstretched and light pouring from every pore.

  Above her a tall black obelisk rose. Its surface was darkly reflective. Light shone from the top of it, a round mirror that glowed like a miniature sun.

  When the light struck the kith and kin, the effect was immediate. Either they grew taller, stronger, more fierce, and rejoined the fight with an intensity Lars didn’t like.

  Or they fled.

  Cowards.

  But too many of the troops stayed. Far more than Lars would have liked.

  While when the light struck the demons…they stood and stared, not moving.

  Then, they exploded, their stomachs blowing out.

  Not all of them. No, for some, just a part of them caught on fire. Though for a very small portion, nothing at all went wrong.

  Lars realized what was happening.

  Christine had assembled the obelisk of truth, though he still didn’t have a clue what the hell that thing was.

  And it was destroying the crystals of corruption, killing those among Lars’ troops who’d swallowed them, while merely damaging those who’d carried them.

  Fuck.

  How was she doing that?

  Lars didn’t know, but he was going to have to stop her.

  Now.

  Christine seemed to feel him approaching, coming out of her trance as he drew near, her ax leaping to her hands.

  “Even if you kill me now, you’ll still lose,” she taunted him. “None of the demons will trust you ever again. You won’t be fit to lead a parade, much less an army.”

  “I will recover from this,” Lars swore. “I can. You don’t know the plans within plans that I have.”

  Christine laughed.

  She laughed at him.

  The sound of human laughter still sent Lars into a complete rage. He couldn’t help it.

  With a mighty roar he flew up to her, his own flaming sword at the ready.

  Here was a battle that would be worth all the poetry. Even if it was bad demon poetry.

  Lars swung his sword one handed while he kicked out at her at the same time. A double attack that she barely recovered from. If they’d been on the ground, she might have gone down.

  Damn it! Lars was going to have to recalculate his plans. Once again.

  “You have nothing to fight for,” Christine said. “You’ve already lost. Your troops will turn against you.”

  “They will follow me!” Lars said. “They will bow down before me! As will all the races of the kith and kin.”

  “Never,” Christine said, striking out with her ax, whirling and aiming her foot at him.

  It was a good move, one that he’d seen before. He slashed at her exposed ankle, his claws clanking on the metal that reinforced the calf.

  When had she added that to her armor?

  Lars struck again and again, but Christine managed to slip away from his sword. He’d still clawed her arms, giving her a scar to remember him by.

  If she lived. She wasn’t going to live. Was she?

  A deep tone sounded above Lars, sounding like the morning bells of a cathedral.

  He’d forgotten about the obelisk. It now floated directly above him. Thousands of little white lines squiggled down from it. They didn’t touch him, but flickered and waved about three inches above his scales. It looked as though the light was cutting ties flowing out from him.

  With sudden horror, he realized that was exactly what it was doing.

  All of his demonic influence. All of his corruption spells. All of his conquests.

  The light was destroying all the hard work he’d done over the last few years.

  Lars had to escape before everything was stripped away from him and all he had left was his bare soul.

  He glanced at Christine. She knew. She knew that this spell would remove all his armor from him, both metaphorically and in the real world.

  All that he’d have left would be himself.

  For a moment, he saw Christine’s soul shine through.

  His own soul shrank at the brilliance.

  He couldn’t take her on his own.

  But take her, he would.

  Tomorrow.

  Lars had insisted on developing the call to retreat. Though his generals didn’t like it, and his troops liked it even less. They weren’t cowards. They would stay and battle until the very last of them died. Or at least that was what they’d insisted to his face.
>
  Now that Lars’ attention was focused below him, he could see that his own army was already breaking apart. Demons were scattering, running for shelter, the troops of the kith and kin gleefully dismantling them along the way.

  Lars sounded the call to retreat as he dove away, passing down below Christine who looked a little surprised, but who didn’t come after him.

  When Lars glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she, too, was caught up in the light of the obelisk.

  For a brief moment, he considered returning to attack her.

  Except that meant staying in that bare moment.

  He shuddered, shaken to his very core.

  “Retreat! Retreat!”

  Lars watched the huge portals open up across the ground, dirt and ash erupting into the air. Demons went streaming down the great gashes, running for all their might.

  He wasn’t defeated. The Great War was not over. Not yet.

  He could come back from this.

  He would not fail again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Dennis couldn’t imagine why Dad had asked him to come to Sunday dinner early. They were all celebrating Christine’s latest victory. She hadn’t won the war, not yet. There were too many races of the kith and kin who had already allied themselves with the demons. And she hadn’t been able to kill Lars, though he knew she was finally ready to.

  Particularly after the death of Nik.

  Dennis didn’t have the full story yet, but he knew that his sister blamed herself.

  He’d already taken it upon himself to make sure that she got over the war.

  This was just one more wound that he was determined to help her heal from.

  But now, why Dad?

  He’d insisted on meeting Dennis down by the docks instead of inside the house. Then again, Dad had changed so much that summer since coming into his own magic. He spent a lot of time outside now, even during the blistering heat of July and August.

  September was only a few days away.