Trylle

by Amanda Hocking

  SEVENTEEN

  consequence

  The curtains were still drawn around the bed, but if Aurora pulled them back, she would find me naked in bed with a guy who was not her son. I heard her moving about the room, and I was too scared to speak or even breathe.

  My mind raced to remember what had become of our clothes. Were Loki’s pajama pants on the bedroom floor? And what became of the panties he’d torn off me?

  “Princess?” Aurora said again, and I could see her silhouette through the curtain. She was right outside. “Are you in here?”

  “Yeah,” I said, afraid that she would open the curtain if I didn’t answer. I tried to quiet the panic in my voice. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m really . . . out of it. Yesterday was . . . exhausting.”

  “I understand,” Aurora said. “I’ll take my bag so I can get ready and give you time to wake up.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Of course.” Aurora’s footsteps went toward the door, then she stopped. “Tove feels terrible about what happened last night. He never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know that.” I winced at the mention of Tove. The warm memories of last night turned into cold truths. I’d cheated on my husband.

  “He’ll want to apologize for himself, but I wanted to be sure you knew,” Aurora said. “He’d never hurt you on purpose.”

  That was like a knife to my heart, and it cut so deep I could barely breathe for a second. I knew that Tove didn’t love me, but I doubted he’d be happy about me having sex with another guy. And he deserved so much better than that.

  “I will see you downstairs for breakfast,” Aurora said.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice tight to keep back tears.

  The bedroom door shut behind her, and I let out a long shaky breath. I pulled away from Loki and sat up. I’d never felt so conflicted in my life. I wanted nothing more than to lay with him forever, but being with him made me feel guilty and horrible.

  “Hey.” Loki put his arm around my waist, trying to pull me back to him. “You don’t have to rush away. She left.”

  “We have a lot to do today.” I pushed his arm off me, hating that I had to reject him, and grabbed my nightgown from where it lay crumpled at the end of the bed.

  “I know,” Loki said, sounding a little hurt. He sat up as I pulled the nightgown on. “I’d never try to keep you from your work, but can’t you spend five more minutes in bed with me?”

  “No, I can’t.” I shook my head and refused to look back at him. I didn’t want to see the look on his face or think about what we’d done. I could still taste him on my lips and feel him inside me, and I wanted to sob.

  “So . . . that’s it, then?” Loki asked.

  “I told you that last night was all we could have,” I said.

  “That you did.” He breathed deeply. “I guess I was hoping that I could change your mind.”

  I got out of bed and found my torn panties sticking out from under the dust ruffle. The bed creaked as Loki got out after me. I turned back to face him. He’d pulled on his pants, but he hadn’t worn a shirt here.

  “You’ll have to sneak back to your room,” I told him. “Nobody can see you.”

  “I know. I’ll be careful.”

  We stood there, staring at each other and not saying anything. There were only a few feet between us, but the distance felt like miles. There was so much that I wanted to say but couldn’t. Any words would only make it worse.

  If I said aloud how much last night had meant to me, it would make it too real.

  Loki walked toward the door but stopped next to me. His hands were balled up into fists, and I could see him struggling with something. Without saying anything, he grabbed me suddenly and pulled me toward him.

  He kissed me so passionately, my knees felt weak. I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand when he let go, but I did.

  “That was the last time,” I breathed when we stopped kissing.

  “I know,” he said simply. Then he let go of me and walked out of the room.

  As soon as he was gone, I folded my arms across my chest, hugging myself. My stomach lurched, and I was certain I would throw up for a moment, but it passed. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. I repeated it over and over in my head, but I couldn’t use my own persuasion on myself. I reached behind me and grabbed the bedpost, afraid that my legs would give out.

  What had I done? To Loki? To Tove? To myself?

  “Princess?” Duncan knocked on the door, but I couldn’t form the words to answer him. The lump in my throat was too great. “Princess?” He opened the door, and I did my best to compose myself. “Wendy, are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I nodded and swallowed back tears. “I’m tired. Yesterday was too much.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Duncan said. “I slept like the dead, but I had all these weird dreams about banging noises. Did you hear anything last night? My room was right next to yours.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Sorry.”

  “I just wanted to check on you,” Duncan said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “I talked to Kenna this morning, and she’d like to send those whose homes are unlivable to Förening for now,” Duncan said. “Willa suggested that we all return today and get the survivors settled in at the palace. Then we can send back people that actually know how to rebuild Oslinna, since none of us really know how to build a house.”

  “Um, yes, I think that sounds good,” I said. “I’ll have to speak with Kenna first.” I realized something and looked back at him. “Is everyone up, then?”

  “Yeah, everyone but you, Tove, and Loki,” Duncan said. “But I just saw Loki in the bathroom, so I guess he’s up now. What happened with Tove last night? Aurora said that he was sick or something?”

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “He’s . . . sick.” I rubbed the bruise on my arm, trying to cover it up. “I need to talk to him. Is he in his room?”

  “As far as I know,” Duncan said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll go talk to him and get dressed, and then I will meet everyone downstairs. Does that sound all right?”

  “Yeah, that sounds great,” Duncan said. “And, Princess, you should really take it easy today. You look like you’re coming down with something.”

  I waved him off, and he left. As I walked down to Tove’s room, I kept trying to think of what I wanted to say. Should I tell him about Loki?

  Not here. Not now. We had too much to do for the people here. I didn’t want to waste time on a fight.

  Timidly, I knocked on the door. I still hadn’t come up with what I was going to say to Tove. He opened the door, and the sight of him made it worse. He looked like hell. His hair was always disheveled, but not this bad. I knew he’d slept, but he still had bags under his eyes. His normally mossy-tan skin had paled, and worst of all, he appeared to have aged a few years overnight.

  “Wendy, I am so sorry” were the first words out of his mouth, and for a second I didn’t understand what he had to be sorry for. “I never meant to hit you. I’d never do that. Not if I was thinking clearly.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said numbly. “I know. Yesterday took a lot out of everybody.”

  “That’s no excuse.” Tove shook his head. “I should’ve . . . done something.”

  “You couldn’t have,” I said. “And I understand.”

  “No, you don’t. What I did, it wasn’t okay. It’s never okay to hit a woman, let alone my wife.”

  The word wife made me flinch, but I didn’t think he noticed. I didn’t want to have this conversation anyway. I couldn’t handle listening to him apologize to me after what I’d done. I didn’t condone hitting women either, but that wasn’t Tove. He hadn’t been in his right mind.

  And I’d done something just as bad by sleeping with Loki. I hadn’t exactly been clearheaded myself when it happened, but if I was being honest, I wanted to, even when I wasn’t drained from my powers. Yesterday’s overload of wor
k had only weakened my inhibitions, so I was more willing to give in to something I wanted.

  I still wanted to be with Loki, and that was why my crime far outweighed Tove’s.

  I brushed past Tove and went over to my suitcase to get a change of clothes. He tried apologizing again, and I reiterated that he had nothing to be sorry for. Before he could bring up last night again, I changed the subject to talk about all the things we had to get done today.

  We had gotten all of the major cleaning done, so there was nothing more we personally could do for Oslinna.

  I got dressed and went down to start figuring out how to get people out of here. Some vehicles were still in working order, but not enough for everyone. We’d have to send out more cars once we got back to the palace.

  As we helped organize the transport, deciding who would go and who would stay, Willa commented on how strange I seemed. I was acting as close to normal as I could, except anytime Loki came near me, I left in a hurry. It was hard to even be around him.

  Once everyone was loaded up, we drove home. Kenna stayed behind to run what was left of Oslinna, but I promised her that more help would be on the way soon. Rebuilding the town would be my top priority. Well, right after protecting the kingdom from Vittra domination.

  Willa and Matt rode with Tove and me to Förening, and I was grateful. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to handle a long car ride with just Aurora and Tove. Matt sat in the backseat, sketching architectural designs and talking about all the things we could do for Oslinna.

  When we got back, we helped get the refugees set up in the spare rooms of the palace. It would be weird having so many people living here, but it might be good too. I personally helped Mia and her daughter Hanna get settled in a room, and they both seemed to be a bit happier.

  I tasked Willa with getting the resources together to rebuild Oslinna, and Matt was more than happy to take over the reconstruction plans.

  As soon as the people from Oslinna were taken care of, I went down to the library to continue my research. I still had to find a way to kill Oren and stop the hobgoblins. Eventually we would be up against the Vittra, and I needed to know how to defeat them.

  Besides that, it would do me good to immerse myself in work. I didn’t want to think about the mess I’d made of my personal relationships.

  I spent most of the evening searching through old Tryllic texts to no avail. None of them mentioned anything about immortal trolls, or at least not that I could understand. I went back over to search for a different book. When I looked up, I saw Finn standing in the doorway to the library.

  I didn’t think my guilt could get any deeper until I saw him. Despite the fact that Finn and I had never even really been together, not to mention that whatever we had was officially over, I knew how disappointed he would be in me if he knew that I’d slept with Loki.

  “Are you all right, Princess?” Finn narrowed his eyes in concern and came into the library.

  “Um, yeah, I’m great.” I lowered my eyes and walked back to the desk I’d been studying at. I wanted space between us, and a huge wooden desk would definitely help out.

  “You look so pale,” Finn said. “The trip must’ve taken a lot out of you.”

  “Yeah, we all worked really hard there,” I said and flipped open a book so I would look busy. Anything to keep me distracted from Finn and his dark eyes.

  “That’s what I heard.” He leaned on the desk in front of me. “Loki came to see me today.”

  “What?” My head jerked up, and my stomach dropped. “I mean, did he?”

  “Yeah.” Finn gave me an odd look. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s all great,” I said. “What did Loki say?”

  “He told me what he learned about the hobgoblins from your visit to Oslinna,” Finn said. “All of the damage was focused on property, and any casualties were people who just happened to get in the way. He seems to think the hobgoblins aren’t particularly bloodthirsty, but he’s still coming down to help me train the trackers tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” I fidgeted with my wedding ring and lowered my eyes again.

  “I’m starting to think he might not be quite as bad as I thought he was,” Finn said, almost grudgingly. “But you still spend too much time with him. You have to be careful about appearances.”

  “I know.” My mouth suddenly felt very dry. “I’m working on it.”

  Finn stood on the other side of the desk, as if waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing to say. I stared down at the book, almost too nervous to breathe.

  “I just came to see how the trip went,” Finn said.

  “It went well,” I said quickly, nearly cutting him off.

  “Wendy.” He lowered his voice. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Oh, Princess, sorry to bother you,” Mia said, and I’d never been so relieved to have an interruption.

  She stood in the doorway, holding Hanna against her side. Since they’d been here at the palace, they’d both had time to get cleaned up, and Mia looked even lovelier than she had at Oslinna, and I hadn’t thought that was possible.

  “No, no, Mia, you’re no bother,” I said quickly.

  “I was just trying to find the kitchen.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “Hanna’s hungry, and I’ve been wandering around this place, but I keep making wrong turns. It’s so much bigger than the one in Oslinna.”

  “The palace does take some time to get used to,” Finn said, returning her smile. “I could show you to the kitchen if you’d like.”

  “That would be great.” Mia smiled wider, appearing relieved. “Thank you.” Then her expression fell, and she looked worried. “I’m not taking him away from you, Princess, am I?”

  “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “Finn would be glad to help.”

  “Yes, of course I would,” he said. “Mia, is it?”

  “Yeah.” Mia smiled at him again, then motioned to her baby. “This is Hanna.”

  “It will be my pleasure to show you both around the palace.” He started to leave with them, but he turned back to me before he left, his lips pursed together, and nodded once.

  After he left with Mia, I let out a shaky breath.

  I buried myself in the books, although it didn’t do much good. I still hadn’t found anything useful yet.

  It was getting late when Willa knocked on the open door.

  “Wendy, I know you’re really busy, but you need to come see this,” Willa said. “The whole palace is talking.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Elora’s new painting.” Willa pursed her lips. “It shows everyone dead.”

  EIGHTEEN

  future

  Elora had the “gift” of precognitive painting, although she’d be the first to tell anyone it was more of a curse. She would paint a scene from the future, from an event yet to happen, and that was it. No context, no preceding actions—just one solitary scene from the event.

  Since she’d been so weak lately, she’d hardly painted anything. It drained her too much, but if Elora had a powerful vision, she couldn’t hold it in. The precognition caused her terrible migraines until she painted these visions and got them out.

  Also, Elora tried to keep her paintings as private as possible, unless she thought they had some value that everyone should see. And this one definitely did.

  The painting sat on an easel at one end of the War Room. Elora had tried to keep the gathering small, so only the people who needed to know would see it, but as Willa said, word of the painting was spreading through the palace like wildfire.

  Garrett stood by the door, keeping the riffraff from sneaking a peek. When Willa and I entered, Marksinna Laris, Markis Bain, Thomas, Tove, and Aurora were gathered around it. A few others were sitting at the table, too stunned to say anything.

  I pushed Laris to the side so I could get a good look, and Tove stepped back. The painting was even more horrifying than Willa had let on.

&
nbsp; Elora painted so well it looked like a photograph. Everything was done in exquisite detail. It showed the rotunda, its curved stairwell collapsed in the middle. The chandelier that normally hung in the center had crashed and lay destroyed on the floor. A small fire burned at the top of the stairs, and gold detailing was coming off the walls.

  Bodies were everywhere. Some of them I didn’t recognize, but others were startlingly clear. Willa was hanging off the destroyed stairs, her head twisted at an angle that she couldn’t survive. Duncan was crushed underneath the chandelier, broken glass all over him. Tove lay in a pool of blood spilling out from him. Finn was crumpled in a mess of broken stairs, his bones sticking through his skin. Loki had a sword run straight through his chest, pinning him to the wall like an insect in an entomologist’s display box.

  I lay dead at a man’s feet. A broken crown lay smashed near my head. I died after I’d been crowned. I was Queen.

  In the painting, the man’s back was to the viewer, but his long dark hair and black velvet jacket were unmistakable—it was Oren, my father. He had come to the palace and caused all this carnage. At least twenty or more bodies littered the scene Elora had painted, including my own.

  We were all dead.

  “When did you paint this?” I asked Elora when I found the strength to speak.

  She sat in a chair to the side of the room, staring out the window at the snow falling on the pines. Her hands were folded in her lap, the skin gray and wrinkled. She was dying, and this painting had probably pushed her to the edge.

  “Last night, while you were gone,” Elora said. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell anyone. I didn’t want to start an unnecessary panic, but Garrett thought that you all should know.”

  “It might help change things,” Garrett said, and I glanced back over at him. Worry tightened his expression. His daughter was dead in the picture too.

  “How can you change things?” Laris asked, her voice shrill. “It is the future!”

  “You can’t prevent the future,” Tove said. “But you can alter it.” He turned to me for confirmation. “Can’t you?”