Troll Tunnels

by Erin M. Hartshorn

Heat shot through me, and I pulled his head back down to mine. “Not right now.”

  Some other hiker — I didn’t bother to look up to see who — shouted good-naturedly, “Get a room!”

  Heat surged in my ears, and I would have ducked my head in embarrassment if I’d been capable of moving at all. Instead, I wriggled, letting Haris’s arm slip behind my back and pull me even closer. This was new — feeling able to do this in public, unafraid of magical consequences, of what might happen. It had only been last month — a few very busy weeks ago — when my parents came to dinner that I had kissed Haris — male Haris — for the first time.

  He broke off and buried his face in my hair. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “Trusting you is easy. It’s trusting myself that’s hard.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I trust you.”

  Tears smarted at my eyes. Haris knew, as no one else did, how much this meant. I let him fold his arm around me as we continued our walk.

  Chapter 17

  The next day, late afternoon, thoroughly rested and relaxed, I sat on the couch reading one of Clay’s journals, looking for mentions of other witches by name, though I hadn’t seen any so far, when I felt the twins’ magic below, but distant — home, but stopping in to see their cousins, most likely — not their grandparents, who would be busy in the restaurant. Plenty of warning to put dinner on to heat and make sure there weren’t any journals lying around that I didn’t want the kids to read.

  While Tina and Gavin were still downstairs, a familiar knock came at the door. I glared at it. There was no reason for Matt to be up here without the twins. At least he couldn’t just walk in any more.

  Regretting that there was no chain on the door, I opened it a crack, bracing the door against my foot. “What?”

  He gave me that wide-eyed stare, all innocence and disbelief that I didn’t trust his motives. If he’d used that on me while we were dating, I would have left him before I fell in love. On the other hand, the fact that he used it now instead of then just underscored how much it was simply a manipulative trick, designed to prey upon my sympathies — and those of anyone else who might be around to see. I wasn’t sure whether or not to be thankful that much of the time there was no audience. No audience meant these tricks were useless, but no audience also meant that it was his word against mine.

  “I wanted to talk to you again, without our lawyers or any of the middlemen who’ve had to be dragged into this. No social workers, no counselors, no parents — just two adults who want the best for their children.”

  “If you don’t trust the state to provide what’s best, perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten them involved.”

  The innocent look vanished into narrowed eyes and thinned lips. He held out a folded bundle of papers, stapled in one corner. “Look, Pepper, you’re not going to win this one. You know it, and I know it. I’m trying to let you save face here by bowing out before the judge eliminates all of your rights. I brought over some papers. Sign these, and we’ll have a custody agreement in place that the judge has to defer to when ruling.”

  I tilted my head to look at him but didn’t move to take the papers from his hand. “You left the kids with Vanessa so you could come up here and try to browbeat me into taking this agreement?”

  He huffed in exasperation and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to browbeat you. God, Pepper! I’m trying to do what’s best for Gavin and Tina.”

  “Have you listened to them when they’ve told the counselors what they would like best?”

  Matt turned away and paced the length of the landing, away and back, away and back, three times before standing in front of the door once more, his left hand knotted into a fist, his right clenched so hard around the folded papers that I expected him to get a paper cut. “Let me in. This isn’t the place to discuss this.”

  “You mean where your family can hear you acting like an ass?” I considered it for a moment. But the only ones who might hear him at the moment were Jeixing, Vanessa, and Jinhong — and I was certain none of them would be surprised by anything we had to say to each other. “Maybe you shouldn’t, then.”

  His fist slammed into the door, inches from where I gripped the edge. I flinched but didn’t let go. Instead, I moved my foot a fraction of an inch, closing the door a little more. I didn’t want his next blow to hit me.

  “Sign the papers if you know what’s good for you.”

  I grabbed my phone from the table next to the door. I could have opened to my contacts. Rather than texting, though, I hit the video record button. Matt reached through the opening, trying to snatch at the phone, and I turned so that he hit my shoulder instead. “I’m texting my lawyer about your behavior. Do you mind if I send him photos of the agreement you’re trying to get me to sign?”

  “I told you, without lawyers.”

  “I might believe you if I couldn’t see your lawyers’ letterhead. You’re trying to back me into a corner where I have no support because you’re afraid the judge isn’t going to decide in your favor. I’m not signing anything that you show up on my doorstep with.”

  “I’m not the one who’s going to be hurt by the judge’s decision. I’m just looking out for our kids.”

  “Goodbye, Matt. I’ll see you in court.” I put my shoulder behind the door so he couldn’t hit it again.

  He leaned against the door, trying to push it back open. “I still have the children next weekend because you get them for Thanksgiving.”

  “I’ll have someone I trust drop them off and pick them up.”

  “Like this guy you’re dating? Celeste told me all about him, how you two spend your time kissing out here on the stairs as if that’s going to hide what’s happening from the kids.”

  Celeste was determined to be a thorn in my side. So certain she knew what was best for everyone, and how dare I hurt Matt, and — whatever. I knew she hadn’t told Matt all about Haris because she couldn’t. She barely knew more than Haris’s name, and had seen him just once. And the only time we’d kissed out here on the landing was after the dinner party I’d had for my parents. Goodness only knew who had decided to pass that bit of gossip on to her.

  I didn’t say any of that. There was only so much breath I was willing to waste on Matt and his family. “I was thinking of your grandmother.”

  Because while Jinhong and I did not see eye to eye on so much, she wanted the children to follow Hsien, something she knew would never happen if Matt was granted sole custody. So she would make certain that the children saw him — and that they got home safely to me afterward.

  He wanted to say something biting, cutting, something about how little he respected her opinion. I could see it in his eyes, the way he opened and closed his mouth, the shake of his head as he discarded things he knew better than to say where his family might hear. Finally, he settled for, “Make sure Gavin doesn’t bring that damned stuffed weasel this time. An albino weasel is bad enough without him insisting that it’s supposed to represent a dragon.”

  Now that I had some sympathy with. When Jinhong had ordered what was supposed to be a stuffed Lung dragon, what had arrived was a white ferret or albino weasel or something in that general family — most definitely not a dragon, which Gavin knew, now that he’d met Hsien and seen Hsien in his native form. It was a ridiculous toy. On the other hand, that wasn’t Matt’s problem with it, as we both knew.

  “I’ll make sure he packs Wally, as usual.” That was as close to a compromise as I was willing to go.

  Without another word, he headed down the stairs. He didn’t leave the papers for me to look at — or to show to my lawyer and the judge. No doubt his “compromise” was weighted heavily in his favor, and its mere existence could bias the judge against him. Too bad the video only barely mentioned the papers. I hit the button to end the recording. While it backed up to the cloud, I closed the door and made sure it was locked and warded. I didn’t want Matt coming back.

  I was about to put the phone down when
I realized I hadn’t checked in with Beth yet to see how her date had gone. I could use some lighthearted fun right now, so I went ahead and called her as I crossed to the couch to sit down and chat comfortably.

  “Hey, Pepper. Is it important? I’ve got a bit of a deadline crunch.”

  “Sorry — I should have thought and texted you to call when you have time. I wanted to ask how your date went.”

  “How do you think it went? He gave me a copy of his key.”

  “Ooh, I want details!” Remembering her comment about deadlines, however, I added, “Whenever you have time, of course.”

  “Not this time. No kiss and tell. You can meet him if you’re going to Brian and Karen’s wedding, though. You did get the invitation, right?”

  Brian was the guy we’d both dated in college. Karen was his fiancée whom we’d met at the recent class reunion. “I didn’t realize you’d stayed in touch with them.”

  “Maybe they pulled my address from the reunion yearbook that the class committee put together.”

  I vaguely recalled ticking the checkbox to give permission for my information to be handed out to others who came to the reunion. The “yearbook” — a magazine, if anything — had come in the mail a month later, and I’d dumped it somewhere without looking at it. However — “I don’t think I was invited.”

  “You have to have been! How else is Karen going to be able to sit there all smug about being the one who finally landed him?”

  I laughed, although I didn’t think landing Brian was anything to be smug about. “I’ll check my mail. It’s possible I’m wrong.”

  “If you didn’t get one, e-mail her and ask! We have to go!”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” I had so many things to do with my time already that insisting on an invitation to a wedding I didn’t care about was way down at the bottom of my priority list, although there was no need to alienate Beth by saying so right now.

  “Do that! I need to get back to work now. We can catch up later.”

  It wasn’t until after I’d hung up that I realized just how odd her statement had been — no kiss and tell? Beth was all about the kiss and tell. This guy must be something else.

  Chapter 18

  I wanted to stay up reading journals, but I had to work open in the morning, so I went to bed not long after the twins.

  The phone rang at quarter to eleven. My general ringtone sounded through the apartment for probably half a minute before I was awake enough to realize it wasn’t just a dream, and it kept ringing as I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled through the dark to where my phone lay on the entry table. As I moved, my mind raced through possibilities — not Matt calling about the kids because they were here, not about Benjamin because Wei might knock on the door but would probably not tell me now at all — my parents? Beth? Who was hurt? No good call ever came in the middle of the night.

  Caller ID showed that the Boston police were on the line. Heart trembling, I answered.

  “Ms. Karalis?” The voice on the other end of the line was youngish and male.

  I grunted, still trying to get myself to focus.

  “You’re the manager for the Wicked Whatever Coffeehouse, correct?” When I mumbled agreement, he said, “Can you come down to the coffee shop? There’s been an attempted burglary, and we need you to verify whether they got anything.”

  “The owner is—”

  “We talked to her already. She said to call you.”

  Of course she did. Why should Kendall do anything that she could delegate? “Can I do it in the morning? My kids are in bed—”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We need you here before we can leave.”

  I sighed. I was going to have to wake someone up to watch the twins. Benjamin really didn’t need the stress, but he and Wei would never forgive me if I didn’t ask. “I’ll find someone. Give me twenty minutes.”

  Jinhong answered the door when I went downstairs. “It’s late. Are the children all right?”

  “Yes, they’re fine. The police just called because someone tried to break in to the coffee shop.”

  “And you need someone to watch Tina and Gavin. Very well.” Her face was devoid of expression as she asked, “The door will let me in this time?”

  “Come back upstairs with me. I still need to grab my coat.” There had been no point in putting it on until I had someone to watch the twins, after all. Or maybe I’d realized subconsciously that I was going to have to welcome Wei or whomever into my apartment. Either way, I had to go back upstairs, which took a little more time out of the twenty minutes I’d asked for. I told myself it couldn’t be helped and headed off to work, my breath steaming in the night air.

  When I was still two blocks away, I could feel my ward. It had expanded like a dome, creating a huge bubble around not just the building the coffee shop was housed in, but the neighborhood. I paused and sent a pulse through it, trying to discover what had happened. The original core was still bound to the wiring of the coffee shop, but the sheath had been triggered — as I should have expected — and both it and the twining layer had exploded outward, filling the area with built-up magic.

  I hoped the trolls weren’t going to complain about this, too.

  My steps quickened. Two police cruisers, lights flashing, were parked in front, and the officers were standing together near the doorway, apparently not bothered by the cold night. Those must be good jackets.

  Hearing my footsteps, they turned to face me. The female of the pair spoke to me. “Ma’am, there’s been an incident. We’re going to have to ask you to go around.”

  I was too tired to deal with this, but it didn’t do to antagonize the police. “You called me. What happened? Did the alarm go off?”

  The guy answered, “Ms. Karalis?” At my nod, he continued, “We had a report of a bright flash of light, and when we got here to investigate, there was a guy sitting here, repeating over and over, ‘I can’t get in. Let me in. Let me in.’”

  My eyes flicked to the space next to the door, but no one was there now. The backseats of both cruisers were similarly empty. “What did you do with him?”

  “Sent him off in an ambulance for psychiatric evaluation.” His compatriot elbowed him in the ribs, and he said, “What? It all goes in the public record, and I didn’t use any names.”

  She still didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and gave me a narrow-eyed glare.

  “All right, let’s see what’s what.” I moved past them to look at the door. It was shut tight, and a broken key lay on the ground.

  “Have you had the locks changed recently?” She sounded like she already knew the answer and was just waiting for me to incriminate myself.

  “Yes. One of our assistant managers quit but didn’t turn his key in. I was worried he might try to get up to some mischief, so I had the locks changed.” I slid my key into the lock and opened the door. “I could have told you this over the phone.”

  The male policeman put his hand on my arm. “Please stay out here while we check out the premises. We need to know whether anyone else got in.”

  I turned to look at him. “How would anyone else have gone in? And why would the door still be locked?”

  He shrugged. “Copies can be made of keys. They don’t always work as they should. Just let us do our job, please.”

  “Fine.”

  I stood there in the light from the coffee shop and the splashing red and blue from the police cars, shivering, for ten minutes before he came back to tell me I could step inside the front door. “But don’t touch anything yet.”

  Even inside, I didn’t take off my jacket. Not until I thawed out more. Because I had worked both open and close shifts for years — though until recently, very few close — I was used to the empty room and the darkness beyond the windows. Otherwise, it would be easy to be spooked by this, the disconnect from a normal busy day, the attempted violation of the place I worked, the place I managed, the police wandering around, looking for obvious distur
bances. The officer’s warning not to touch anything seemed ludicrous, as they weren’t looking for fingerprints, and mine would be all over everything anyway, but I kept my hands in my pockets.

  “Ma’am.” She stood in the hallway leading to the office. “We need you to open the safe to see whether anything has been taken.”

  “I can’t. It’s time-locked. If the door’s still on the hinges, nothing has been taken.”

  She didn’t like my answer, and I could see she was about to make an issue of it until her partner came up and said something quietly to her. I suppressed a sigh at the cliché. Really? They were going to keep doing the good cop, bad cop routine, even though as far as I knew, I was simply here to see if anything had been damaged or taken? They must be having a slow night.

  I sat down at a table — by coincidence, the one I’d sat at with Svetlana — and closed my eyes. I was going to have to be back here in the morning, much too early, and I didn’t have any reason to pretend to the police that I was feeling awake, alert, or cheerful about being dragged out of bed. Cooperative, I could do. Anything more was asking too much.

  With my eyes closed, I focused on the ward again. If it was contracting, it was doing so very slowly. More interesting, though, were the tendrils from the ward, growing upward, reaching for the people — me included — who were in the building. I could feel it easing my tension, softening my worries. Maybe Chris was right and I did have some healing ability already. I’d have to tell them the next time we met.

  Someone sat down in the chair opposite me, and I opened my eyes. The female officer had her notebook and pencil out, and the male officer stood behind her. I glanced at their tags — O’Reilly and Fontana.

  Officer O’Reilly’s voice was softer this time. Maybe the magic had soothed her, too. “We’re going to need some more details for our report. This person who quit—”

  “Rich — Richard, actually — Richard Finn. Last Monday. He called in five minutes before he was due on shift. I was really lucky our other assistant manager was willing to come in on short notice.”