Trylle

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Trylle Page 33

by Amanda Hocking


  “Duncan?” Willa looked at him, as if noticing he was here for the first time. “You’ve got to be kidding me. There is no way Elora would let you be her tracker.”

  “See? Underrated.” Duncan smiled. He seemed to take some pride in it, so I let him have it.

  “Oh, my god. I’m gonna talk to my dad.” Willa shook her head, tucking her perfectly tamed light-brown waves of hair behind her ears. “There’s no way he can do this.”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.” I shrugged. “I’m in the palace. What can happen here?”

  Willa gave me a knowing look, but thankfully, before she could say something, Matt announced breakfast was done. When I had been regaling him with the tales of being Trylle, I had conveniently left out the part about the Vittra busting in here and Oren being my father. I thought it would freak him out too much.

  “Are you gonna eat some too?” Matt asked Willa. He dished up the flapjacks, and, polite as ever, he included her. “We’ve got plenty to go around.”

  “Are those blueberry?” Willa wrinkled her nose, looking totally disgusted by the prospect of eating them. “Eww. No way.”

  “They’re really good.” Matt slid a plate toward her.

  For reasons I didn’t completely understand, there were few foods we actually enjoyed. We mostly ate fresh fruits and vegetables. I didn’t like juice of any kind, although I did like some wine. Pancakes were made with processed flour and sugar, so they were never that appealing, although I had been eating them for years to appease Matt.

  “You’re not gonna eat those, are you?” Willa was completely aghast as I picked up my fork and prepared to dig in.

  Matt had given Duncan a plate too. I’m sure the pancakes sounded as appealing to him as they did to Willa and me, but Duncan followed suit and picked up his fork.

  “They’re pretty good,” I said.

  I had been assured by many people over the years that they were really good, although I’m not sure how anyone could taste them after they drowned them in syrup the way Matt and Rhys were doing. Duncan and I declined syrup. There was no way we could ever force them down like that.

  “I’ve cooked for Wendy for years,” Matt said, unfazed by Willa’s reaction. “I know how to make food that she likes.”

  In general, he had gotten pretty good at it, but there were a lot of times when I ate things just to make him happy. And also, I’d starve if I didn’t.

  “Oh, yeah, right,” Willa scoffed. “Like I’m gonna trust a mänks in sweats and a baby tee to make me pancakes.”

  “Willa,” I said. “He’s my brother, okay? So lay off.”

  “What?” She tilted her head, not fathoming what I meant. “Oh. You mean he’s your host brother?”

  “Yeah.” I took a big forkful of the pancake and shoved it in my mouth.

  “You know he’s not your real—”

  “Willa!” I snapped with a mouthful of food, and I choked it down. “I understand the semantics. Now drop it.”

  “I can understand how that dweeb Duncan can eat that.” Willa smoothed out her designer outfit, trying not to look offended that I’d snapped at her. “But you’re a Princess. He’s too stupid to—”

  “Hey!” Matt said. He had been sitting next to Duncan, eating, but he stopped and glared at her. “I get it. You’re fancy and pretty and rich. Good for you. But unless you wanna go over there and make us all breakfast, then I suggest you quit your bitching and sit down.”

  “Whoa!” Rhys laughed. He loved seeing her put in her place.

  Willa made a face at Rhys but didn’t say anything. When Matt went back to eating his pancakes, she sat down on the stool next to me.

  Since I’d first met Willa, it was clear she walked around with a sense of entitlement. She was nice to me because she thought we were equals, but she definitely didn’t feel the same way about everyone else.

  “I am thirsty,” Willa said after a minute, sounding pouty.

  Automatically, Duncan stood to get water for her, but Matt shook his head, stopping him. Uncertainly, Duncan sat back down. As a tracker, he spent a lot of his life waiting on changelings. Trackers were considered staff and treated as such by royalty.

  “You know where the fridge’s at,” Matt said between bites.

  Willa opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. She turned to me, hoping I would come to her aid, but I only shrugged. She did know where the fridge was at, after all.

  After a minute of deliberating, she got up and went over to the fridge. Rhys snickered under his breath, but Matt shushed him.

  I found the whole thing kind of amazing. Finn had been Willa’s tracker, and a strict one at that. But she never listened to him or treated him with as much respect as she did Matt, who by Trylle standards was much lower in rank than Finn.

  In the five minutes he’d known her, Matt had managed to whip her into shape better than anyone else ever had.

  Willa hung around me for the rest of the afternoon, and she seemed relieved when we split off from Matt and Rhys. Rhys wanted to play some war video game or something, and I didn’t feel like it.

  Instead, Willa and I stayed in my room. Duncan stood outside my door for a bit, but eventually I felt sorry for him, so I had him come in and sit down.

  She sorted my clothes because she liked doing that, and I lay on the floor, watching Willa and thinking about how weird it was that this was my life. She organized them in some way that I didn’t understand, even after she’d explained it to me.

  All the while, she talked about how great her training had been going. Willa had power over the wind, and she hadn’t thought anything of it before the attack.

  Now she wanted to be as prepared and strong as she possibly could. She figured that my training would start right away too, since I needed to be more prepared than anyone else here.

  The night went on much the same way, and I was surprised when she joined us for supper. This time she even ate what Matt cooked, and I felt as if the whole world were turning upside down.

  I went to bed shortly after, but I tossed and turned all night. My mind raced too much to really sleep. It felt like I’d only just fallen asleep when someone shook me awake. I pushed the person off, snuggling deeper in my covers.

  It wasn’t until I had buried my face in my pillow that I realized I should probably be alarmed that someone was in my room. What with evil trolls trying to kidnap me and all that.

  TEN

  repositioning

  Holy hell!” Tove Kroner shouted and jumped back from the side of my bed.

  I’d sat up, almost leaping out of bed, preparing to attack whoever had just woken me up. It turned out to be Tove, and I didn’t understand what I’d done to him.

  As far as I knew, I hadn’t even reacted yet, other than sitting up. But Tove stood off to the side of the room, pressing his palms to his temples. He was bent over, his dark hair falling over his face.

  “Tove?” I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. He didn’t respond, so I stepped closer to him. “Tove? Are you okay? Did I do something?”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head and straightened up. His eyes were closed, but he’d dropped his hands from his head.

  “I’m sorry. What did I do?”

  “I don’t know.” Tove opened his mouth wide and stretched his jaw, reminding me of someone who had just been slapped in the face. “I came in to wake you up for your training. And you . . .”

  “Did I hit you?” I supplied when he trailed off.

  “No, it was in my head.” Tove stared ahead thoughtfully for a minute. “No, you were right. It was like you slapped me inside my head.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Have you ever done anything like that before? Maybe when you were scared?” He turned to look at me, ignoring my confusion to satisfy his.

  “Not that I know of, but I don’t even know what I did.”

  “Hmm.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Your abilities are still developing. They sho
uld fully present themselves soon, and maybe this is part of that. Or maybe it’s just because I’m me.”

  “What?”

  “Because I’m psychic,” Tove reminded me. “Your aura is very dark today.”

  He couldn’t read minds or anything, but he could sense things. I projected, so I could get in people’s minds like Elora could and use persuasion, and Tove received, so he could see auras and was more sensitive to emotion.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “You’re unhappy.” Tove sounded distracted, and he made for the door. “Hurry. Get dressed. We have much to do.”

  He left my room before I could ask him more, and I didn’t understand what Willa saw in him. I wasn’t sure if she really had a crush on him, or if her interest only stemmed from the fact that his family was powerful. The Kroners were next in line for the crown, Tove specifically, if I couldn’t fulfill my duties.

  Tove was attractive, though. His dark hair had soft natural highlights coursing through it, although it was longish and unruly, settling below his ears. His skin had a distinct mossy undertone, the green complexion that occurred in some powerful Trylle. Nobody here had skin like that, except maybe his mother, but hers was even fainter than Tove’s.

  I didn’t know why Tove would be training me. I’m not sure that Elora approved of him, even if he had connections. Besides that, he was scatterbrained and a little strange.

  Tove did have the strongest abilities out of any of the Trylle I’d met. This was particularly weird since men usually had weaker abilities than their female counterparts.

  But I wanted to get a handle on my abilities, so I figured it’d do me good to spend the day doing something other than moping around. I dressed quickly and left my room to find Tove chatting with Duncan.

  “Ready?” Tove asked without looking at me. He started walking before I answered.

  “Duncan, you don’t need to come with us,” I told him as I hurried after Tove. Duncan followed me the way he always did, but he slowed.

  “It’s probably best if he does,” Tove said, tucking his hair behind his ears.

  “Why?” I asked, but Duncan smiled, excited to be included.

  “We need someone to test on,” Tove replied matter-of-factly, and Duncan’s smile instantly faded.

  “Where are we going?” I nearly jogged to keep up with Tove, and I wished he would slow down.

  “Did you hear that?” Tove stopped abruptly, and Duncan almost ran into him.

  “What?” Duncan looked around, as if expecting an attacker to be waiting behind a closed door.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” I said.

  “No, of course you didn’t.” Tove waved me off.

  “Why wouldn’t I? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Because you’re the one that made the sound.” Tove sighed, still focused on Duncan. “Are you sure you didn’t hear anything?”

  “No,” Duncan said. He looked over at me, hoping I could shed light on Tove’s random behavior, but I shrugged. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Tove, what’s going on?” I asked, speaking loudly so he’d pay attention to me.

  “You need to be careful.” Tove cocked his head, listening. “You’re quiet now. But when you’re upset, angry, scared, irritated, you send things out. You’re not controlling it, I don’t think. I can pick it up, because I’m sensitive. Duncan can’t and the average Trylle can’t, because you’re not directing it at them. But if I can hear it, others might too.”

  “What? I didn’t say anything,” I said, growing more frustrated with him.

  “You thought, I wish he’d slow down,” Tove said.

  “I wasn’t using persuasion or anything.” I was dumbfounded.

  “I know. You’ll get a handle on it, though,” he assured me, and then started walking again.

  He led us downstairs. I’m not sure where I thought he’d take us, but I was definitely surprised by where we ended up—the ballroom that had been devastated by the Vittra attack. It had once been luxurious, very much like a ballroom from a Disney fairy tale. Marble floors, white walls with gold detailing, skylights, diamond chandeliers.

  After the attack, it looked very different. The glass ceiling had been crashed in, and to keep the elements out, blue and clear tarps had been laid over it, giving the room an odd glow. Shattered chandeliers and glass were still on the floor, as well as broken chairs and tables. The floor and walls were blackened with damage from the fire and smoke.

  “Why are we here?” I asked. My voice still echoed, thanks to the room’s massive size, but it wasn’t as crisp thanks to the tarps.

  “I like it here.” Tove held his hands out, using his telekinesis to push the debris to the sides of the room.

  “Does the Queen know where we are?” Duncan asked. He was uncomfortable being here, and I tried to remember if he’d been present during the attack. I hadn’t been paying that much attention, and I’d met far too many people that night to say for certain.

  Tove shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “Does she know you’re training me?” I asked. He nodded, looking around with his back to me. “Why are you training me? Your abilities aren’t the same as mine.”

  “They’re similar.” Tove turned around to face me. “And no two people are exactly alike.”

  “Have you trained anyone before?”

  “No. But I’m the best suited to train you,” he said and started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

  “Why?” I asked, and I could see Duncan wearing the same dubious expression I was.

  “You’re too powerful for everyone else. They wouldn’t be able to help you tap into your potential because they don’t understand it the way I do.” He’d finished rolling up his sleeves and put his hands on his hips. “Are you ready?”

  “I guess.” I shrugged, unsure what I needed to be ready for.

  “Move this stuff.” He gestured vaguely to the mess around the room.

  “You mean with my mind?” I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Have you tried?” Tove countered, his eyes sparkling.

  “Well . . . no,” I admitted.

  “Do it.”

  “How?”

  He shrugged. “Figure it out.”

  “You’re really good at this training thing,” I said with a sigh.

  Tove laughed, but I did as I was told. I decided to start small, so I picked a broken chair nearby. I stared at in concentration. The only thing I knew how to use was persuasion, so I thought I’d go that way. In my mind, I repeated, I want the chair to move, I want—

  “Nope!” Tove said, snapping me out of it. “You’re thinking about it wrong.”

  “How am I supposed to think about it?”

  “It’s not a person. You can’t tell it what to do. You have to move it,” Tove said, as if that clarified his point.

  “How?” I asked again, but he didn’t say anything. “It’d be easier if you told me.”

  “I can’t tell you. That’s not how it works.”

  I grumbled a few unseemly remarks under my breath then I turned to the chair, preparing to get down to business.

  So I couldn’t tell the chair to move. I had to move it. How did that translate to thought? I squinted, hoping that might help somehow, and repeated, Move the chair, move the chair.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Tove said.

  I didn’t think anything at all had happened, and then I saw Duncan walking toward the chair.

  “Duncan, what are you doing?” I asked.

  “I, uh . . . moving the chair. I guess.” He seemed confused but coherent, and once he picked up the chair, he gave me an even more bewildered look. “I don’t know where to, though.”

  “Set it anywhere,” I told him absently and turned to Tove. “I did that?”

  “Of course you did that. I could hear you chanting loud and clear, and if you’d harnessed it better, I’d be the one picking up the chair.” He crossed his arms
over his chest, giving me a look that bordered on disapproving.

  “I didn’t try to do that. I wasn’t even looking at him.”

  “That makes it even worse, doesn’t it?” Tove asked.

  “I don’t understand,” Duncan said. He’d set down the chair, and, now free of his duty, walked over to us. “What are you expecting her to do?”

  “You need to control your energy before someone gets hurt.” Tove looked at me solemnly, his mossy eyes bravely meeting mine for almost a minute before he turned away. He gestured around his head, in much the same way Loki had when he explained how he knew I had persuasion. “You have so much going on. It comes off like a . . .”

  “Static?” I suggested.

  “Exactly!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “You need to tune it, get your frequencies in check, like a radio.”

  “I would love to. Just tell me how.”

  “It’s not a matter of turning a dial. You have no on or off switch.” He walked around in a large lazy circle. “It’s something you have to practice. It’s more like being potty-trained. You have to learn when to hold it and when to release.”

  “That’s a pretty sexy analogy,” I said.

  “You can move the chair.” Tove stopped suddenly. “But that can wait. You need to learn to rein in your persuasion.” He looked at Duncan. “Duncan, you don’t mind being experimented on, do you?”

  “Um . . . I guess not?”

  “Tell him to do something. Anything.” He tilted his head, still watching Duncan, then turned to me. “But make sure I can’t hear.”

  “How? I don’t even know how you’re hearing,” I pointed out.

  “Focus. You have to focus your energy. It’s imperative.”

  “How?” I repeated.

  He kept telling me to do things without giving me any clue how. He might as well have been telling me to build a damn rocket ship. I had no idea what to do.

  “You were more focused when you were around Finn,” Tove said. “You were more grounded, in the way electricity is grounded.”

  “Well, he’s not here,” I snapped.

  “It doesn’t matter. He didn’t do anything,” Tove continued, unfazed. “You’re the one with the power. You grounded yourself around him. You tell me how.”

 

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