by Carrie Jones
“I can hear giant things marching, Jamie.” Annie clutched his hand with all her might.
“It’s the trolls. The book said the trolls would come.” They were running so hard that it took all of Jamie’s effort to speak. Images from the book burned into his mind. The trolls would kill everyone, destroy everything. Mr. Nate, Miss Cornelia, Helena, and the rest of them would be helpless.
Wings flapped behind them. As cold as it was, Jamie could feel the heat of the crow monster on the back of his neck, so close behind them and moving closer. He pushed them faster. The muscles in his legs burned. He and Annie slipped and slid in the snow, but kept moving forward, one stride after another.
“Got you!” the thing croaked. “I’ve got you.”
The sign WELCOME TO AURORA was half-covered with snow, but Jamie could still make out the words. It loomed in front of them and seemed to twinkle as they raced toward it. If they could just get there, they would be safe. Jamie nearly screamed from frustration. Just a few more feet … just a few … more … It was so close. They had to make it.
“It’s right … It’s right behind us, Jamie … ,” Annie panted.
Jamie tripped. Arms outstretched, he let go of Annie’s hand and fell into the snow. The coldness of it bit against his face and sputtered into his mouth. He flipped around as quickly as he could. The crow was merely a couple of feet behind him. Wings filled the air, flapping wickedly. Scrambling, he stood again, moving up and forward, blindly, batting his way through the feathers. Annie was right behind him, he thought. He could feel her hand on his back.
Then the sky exploded with darkness.
36
Gnome Home
The darkness surrounded them. Jamie had let go of Annie’s hand. He screamed and tried to stumble forward, but Annie couldn’t make a sound. She batted at the feathers with her hand, knowing in one second both of them would be frozen if she didn’t figure out what to do.
The book had said to nail the monster down and kill it inside the town. Once again she felt for the phurba, and this time she knew. She did the only thing she could think of doing. She pushed Jamie with all the strength she had, watching as he broke through the feathers and disappeared, hopefully all the way across the town line. She yanked out the dagger Miss Cornelia had given her. Clenching it, she scooted forward, then scooted forward again, praying that she was inside the town line, and then when she felt as if she could almost no longer move, she swung down hard, driving a mass of feathers to the ground.
For a second there was nothing but a swarm of blackness. Then the feathers all began to pop, one after another, after another. Annie covered her ears and peered in front of her as the feathers exploded into black dust and disappeared.
Annie forgot how to breathe. Had she killed it? Was it really gone? And Jamie? Was he okay? She scurried forward, inching along the snow, not strong enough to get up yet, and spotted him.
Jamie lay stretched out, facedown in the snow. His arms were extended in front of him. He clutched the gnome in his hands. He was well past the town line. And the phurba? She had made it by inches.
Annie staggered up to him.
“Jamie.” She grabbed him by the wrists and tugged him forward away from the town line. She didn’t know why. It just felt safer. She shook him by the shoulder. “Jamie?”
He lifted up his head. Snow covered his face. “You pushed me?”
She squinted at his face. “I’m so sorry. I had to get you across the town line … and we had no time … I didn’t hurt you, did I? Oh my gosh … I would hate it if—”
“No … No …” He shook his head. “Did we make it?”
Annie reached forward and brushed some snow off his face.
“The crow monster is gone,” she said, smiling. “I think we made it. See? The town line is right there.”
A line of gold and silver zigzagged through the snow. In repeating words it spelled out TOWN LINE.
“So we did it?”
“Yeah, I think we did it.”
Jamie broke into a grin. “So it’s over?”
“I think so.” She laughed with relief and started to say something more, but her attention was diverted by a dwarf, an elf, and several wolf-dogs running in their direction.
Eva bounded right into Annie, knocking her down. “You two did it! You flimsy human things! I thought for sure you wouldn’t be able to, but hoo … boy … Man, being frozen stunk. Those feathers smelled nasty. It’s all done now, though, huh? We’re safe, right?”
“Calm down, Eva,” Bloom said, but he laughed as he said it. He noticed the phurba in the snow, yanked it out, and handed it to Annie. He lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment. “Well done.”
“Well done, you,” Annie whispered back.
The wolves circled them all, and then most of them ran ahead toward the main street of Aurora, a street that was coming to life with murmuring noises and shocked exclamations.
“We did it, didn’t we?” Eva asked again. “I mean, we’re heroes! We saved the freaking day! That’s heroic, right? They’ll probably make statues of us.”
She let go of Annie and began to make muscle poses, flexing her arms and staring off into the distance, her face frozen into a triumphant yet serious expression.
“Eva,” Annie said, laughing. “There are no cameras here.”
Eva broke the pose for a second. “You never know when there will be cameras.”
She began posing again. Bloom positioned himself closer to Annie, Jamie, and the dogs. His smile filled his face, and his green eyes widened with joy.
“We really did do it. You two did it,” he said.
Jamie shook his head and hit the elf awkwardly on the arm. “Nope. It was a team effort. You and Eva sacrificed for us.”
“We did, didn’t we?” Bloom said. His eyes glinted with happiness.
Annie hadn’t thought it was possible for the elf to look prouder, but he did. “You were really brave. You and Jamie and Eva. And the wolf-dogs.”
Missing Tala, she bent down and scratched behind one of the wolf-dog’s ears. He wagged his tail only once, but was then distracted by something in the distance. His muscles went rigid with attention. A low, deep growl left his throat and mingled with the cold air. Annie followed his gaze down the hill, along the road, and then just to the right.
“Bloom … ,” she said, but Bloom was still talking to Jamie about how brave they’d all been. He was preening and smiling and talking about how proud Canin and Miss Cornelia would be. He didn’t hear Annie at all. She kept staring toward the woods, but reached out and tugged his pants for attention. “Bloom …”
“Sorry. What is it, Annie?” Bloom shook himself out of his reverie.
“The gnome is in Aurora, right?” she asked.
“Yes …”
“So that means that the town is hidden, right?”
“Yes.”
Annie didn’t take her eyes off the large pack of trolls approaching Aurora. “Does that mean that it has a bubble around it like a force field so things that try to come in just bounce off or something?”
“No. It means that they are deflected away by a glamour. Whoever or whatever’s trying to find us will decide to look elsewhere.” His voice lost its happiness as he saw the trolls.
“Trolls,” Bloom said, voice lowered with worry and fear. “Trolls are coming.”
Eva stopped posing and roared. “What? That’s not possible. We brought the gnome back. THE GNOME IS RIGHT HERE!”
Annie stood up and put an arm around her. “Eva. Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” she roared. “There’s freaking trolls coming up the hill. We led them here! Oh my gosh! They will eat EVERYONE and—oh my freaking—”
Jamie caught her as she passed out, wondering how she could be so brave sometimes and so frightened others. Bloom and Annie quickly came over, and they dragged her to a spot beneath a maple tree and settled her into a half-sitting position against the tree’s massive trunk.
“She’s right,” Annie said. “We must have led them here. Maybe they smelled us or something. I bet those are the others the crow warned us about, remember?”
“We should hide,” Jamie suggested.
Annie shook her head, watching as the wolves paced just inside the town’s boundary line. “No. If they come through, we have to stand our ground and fight.”
“With what?” Jamie asked. “Your dagger? Eva’s passed out. Bloom’s dagger or bow or light balls? Can you make that purple-light magic thing happen again?”
“I don’t know … Maybe I can stop time again. Maybe—” Annie broke off midsentence. The trolls were stomping forward, up the hill, not even trying to be sneaky. The ground thudded with their heavy footsteps. Their skin glinted in the night.
“They have such large teeth,” Annie added quietly. “Such very large teeth.”
“And there are so many,” Bloom added, stepping forward. “You two hide or run for help. I will hold them off. I wish I had my bow …”
He unsheathed his dagger and took another step forward almost beyond the town line, but Annie reached forward and grabbed him back. The trolls were hurrying toward them. They carried large clubs made of tree limbs. One carried a pizza box and was eating out of it as he ran.
The troll in the front sniffed the air. “I can smell ’em. Elf and Stopper. Not far. Not far.”
“I ain’t had elf in years,” the one with the pizza said as they thundered closer.
“Ain’t none of us have, doofus,” said another, “ ’cause they’re all dead.”
A disgusting smell overwhelmed the children as the trolls marched forward. They were maybe two hundred feet away at the most. Repulsed by the stench, Annie clutched Bloom’s arm. Jamie’s teeth chattered. She used her free hand to grab his fingers and began frantically trying to remember how to stop time. She’d have to focus. She’d have to think really hard. She’d have to say the word, right? Or maybe just draw it on the snow?
A hundred feet.
Troll smell made her gag, but Annie refused to make a sound.
“Be ready,” Bloom whispered.
An injured Mr. Alexander was there. So was his mother. Jamie’s knees shook. The trolls’ eyes were a sickly green, the color of boogers.
Fifty feet.
Eva snored by the tree.
Twenty-five feet … twenty … fifteeen …
And then just before the town line, the trolls took a sudden right turn. They marched off the road and into the woods as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Tree trunks snapped as they pushed them out of the way. Branches cracked down onto the ground. The trolls tromped through the snow and the underbrush. Nothing stopped them.
“They’re heading away,” Annie whispered, heart thumping wildly with relief. “They just turned.”
“The gnome worked!” Bloom yelled. He whooped and grabbed Annie, spinning her around in the air, ripping her hand free of Jamie’s hand as Jamie watched. Bloom noticed and grabbed him in a happy, bouncy hug that seemed very elfish to Annie. “We did it! We really did! I thought we did when the crow vanished but this proves it. The town is safe! It’s safe!”
A voice came from behind them.
“For now.”
Annie, Jamie, Bloom, and Eva whirled around. Miss Cornelia smiled and opened her arms, and they ran into them, everyone, even Jamie. She hugged them all.
“I told you that you would have to be brave, didn’t I?” she asked.
More townspeople were streaming toward their little group. They shook their heads, and bundled their coats around them. A few stared anxiously at the sky, but they were all safe, each and every one of them. Annie wanted to explode from happiness.
“We sort of broke into the mayor’s house and stole a police car, and I killed a living creature even if it was a monster, but we were brave,” she said, focusing on Miss Cornelia’s kind, wrinkled face. She’d never seen a face more beautiful or more safe.
“You were very brave, indeed.” The old woman released them and waved the rest of the town toward them. “This calls for a celebration! Actually, a double celebration. We have a birthday boy in our midst.”
People began cheering their agreement and by the tree, Eva shook herself awake.
“What? What? Did I miss something?” she demanded, adjusting her pigtails and standing up.
“Nothing,” Annie said. “Nothing at all, hero dwarf girl.”
Eva smiled, picking up her ax.
“Hero dwarf girl,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that.”
37
A Celebration
The townspeople hoisted Jamie, Bloom, and Annie onto their shoulders and carried them down the road into town. Eva insisted dwarfs were never hoisted nor carried despite the fact that she had just been carried a mere hour or so earlier. Instead, she walked proudly beside her father, who kept punching her in the arm and telling her that she had done a good job and asking her how the skis worked. She beamed.
So did Annie. Her face was lit by torchlight, and she sat up straight and smiling, not at all bothered by the height or even by the attention.
Jamie wondered if he looked the same way. He struggled to find a word to describe how he felt. Proud? Settled? Happy? Safe? It was probably a mixture of all four words.
Miss Cornelia insisted that the children change out of their cold, wet clothes and then come back outside for the celebration.
Jamie and Annie rushed up the stairs. The mermen and mermaids in the fountain flapped their tails (even Farkey’s pink one) in a salute to their bravery. Several pixies flew about the children’s heads shouting “thank you” and trying to plant kisses on their cheeks. Gramma Doris shooed the pixies away and took each child’s arm at the top of the winding staircase.
“That’s enough. That’s enough. Thank you very much. We need to get them out of their wet clothes. You can kiss them at the celebration,” she shouted, rolling her eyes and giving Jamie and Annie a conspiratorial wink before muttering, “Pixies. Always kissing.”
Annie’s room was first, and Gramma Doris hurried her inside. She snapped her fingers, and a pair of polka-dot pants, shirt, and wool sweater with matching polka-dot socks materialized in the air.
“Wow … ,” Annie stammered at Jamie. “Did you see that? Just … wow …”
Gramma Doris snapped her fingers again, and the door shut behind Annie, who was still gawking.
“Hurry up out of those wet things!” Gramma Doris called out. “We’ll not be losing you to cold after all this.”
Then she turned to Jamie and waggled her finger at him, smiling, “And that goes for you, too. Off you go, young man. To your room.”
Jamie trotted after Gramma Doris’s rotund form. She was wearing bunny slippers beneath her skirt. They stopped outside his doorway, which had a new flashing sign above it. It said JAMIE’S ROOM!!! in huge fluorescent red letters.
“You like?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought your room needed a little more pizzazz.”
“Uh-huh,” Jamie answered, dumbfounded.
“A little pizzazz works wonders,” she added.
Jamie gazed forlornly at the flashing sign. Now that the threat of death was over, the idea that he could still turn into a troll came flooding back. He examined himself in the hallway mirror. No visible nose hairs. No green skin. No troll signs, so far.
“Young man?” Gramma Doris gently took him by the shoulders. Her voice was soft. She smelled of cookies. “Jamie? What is it?”
“It’s just—ah … What if … What if I become one of them?”
“A troll, you mean?”
“Y-y-yes.”
Her eyes closed a bit as she scanned him up and down. “James Hephaistion Alexander, it is our actions that determine who we are. Not our genes. Not who our parents may or may not be, but our own choices.”
She pulled him into a soft hug and then kissed the top of his head. Jamie’s hand reached up to touch his hair. Before Aurora, nobody had
ever kissed him there before. Actually, his father and grandmother had never kissed him at all. It felt … good.
But he had to make sure. “So, I won’t be—a-a—”
“A troll?” she finished for him. “We won’t know that for sure for a year, Jamie, but I’d say that there is no troll in your heart.” She loosened the hug and waved a hand over his chest. “No, no troll in your heart at all. In fact, I’d say you’re the least trollish boy I’ve ever met. Trolls are about greed. They are about taking—not about giving—and you, Jamie Alexander, are the opposite. You understand me?”
Jamie said that he understood even though he wasn’t exactly sure he really did.
It was enough to satisfy Gramma Doris. She sent him into his room with a pat on his back and a bunch of warm clothes floating in behind him.
“Get dressed, sweet Jamie. We are in need of a celebration, and you, my dear boy, are one of the guests of honor.”
Jamie and Annie met by the fountain, warmly dressed in dry clothes. Annie’s heart lifted to see him. Her wispy hair was tied back in a braid. He hadn’t been able to do anything with his wet hair. He’d shaken it out in the bathroom, but water still clung to it. So, he took the wool hat that had been floating by his bed, pulled it on, and tried not to worry about looking ridiculous.
“I like your hat,” Annie said shyly.
The mermen started singing:
I like your hat
Your hat is phat
Your hat is stylin’
It keeps me smilin’
“Is this the best song you have?” Bloom asked, striding out from the kitchen. He wore a dry dark-green cloak that went down to the knees of his deep-brown pants. He had three buns in his hands, two of which he tossed to Annie and Jamie. “Fresh out of the oven. Try to ignore the mermen. They sing when they are happy. It’s ridiculous.”
The mermen switched positions in the pool, lined up like chorus girls, and started harmonizing again:
It’s ridicu-lous
It’s ridicu-wonderous
It’s ridicu-glorious
And so … ridiculously …
Say you’ll love me.
