Troll Or Derby, A Fairy Wicked Tale (18 page)

“He said ‘Run,’ didn’t he?” I shook Derek by the shoulders, and he barely seemed to register my voice. “I’m out of here, dude. I have to run. I mean, I
have
to.”

But the crowd buffeted me back and forth—so many strong bodies, foreign and full of magic. I imagined that I was small, and could crawl between them, sliding through legs near to the ground, like a cat.

The world blew up, and I shrunk, like Alice in Wonderland. It happened so fast, I’m sure it looked like I disappeared, to the casual observer. Before I realized what was happening, I was beneath the wooden table, Dave’s blood-stained boots before me, gigantic. One kicked Harlow in the head. Adrenaline coursed through me, but I was completely unable to move.

Giant Harlow moaned, and tried to rise to his knees.

“I’ll finish you off another time, Cuz,” Dave said. “See you at the roller derby.” Iron nails rained down around Harlow’s prone body.

I stayed as still as I could, and waited. Would he know where I was hiding? Dave’s boots walked slowly into the crowd, and I heard him calling—first for me, then for Derek.

I could hear Derek’s voice, but his exact response was swallowed by the crowd, which was tittering like mad. Had any of them seen me? Would Derek give me away?

“Harlow,” I whispered. He rose to his knees.

“Harlow!” I called, a little louder.

He looked down, and then flinched when he saw me.

“You’ve gone small,” he whispered. “I didn’t—I didn’t know you could do that.” He looked away, I suppose to try and cover my location.

“Get Dave back over here,” I said.

He shook his head. “No way, kid.”

“Yes, way,” I said. “Will iron hurt him as badly as it’s hurting you?”

“Roller Deb! Paging Roller Deb! You can run, but you can’t hide, little girl!” Dave’s voice was only a few feet away. “We’re family now, sweetheart. Come on out.”

“Yeah, iron hurts him—but it’ll hurt you, too, and if you stay at that size, just a little dabble’ll do you in. What’s your plan?”

An iron flail was crossed with an old-fashioned mace, hanging on the wall over the smithy’s sign: “Mace Frehley, Your Source for Iron Weapronry ‘n Stuff, since 1816.” The weapon was small—although at the time it was obviously much larger than I. If I could grab it off the wall and hit Dave with it from behind, we had a good chance of getting away on our own terms.

Harlow followed my eyes and when he saw me staring at the weapons, he managed a grin. He leaned forward, and said in a voice only I could hear, “Use the rag to hold the handle. Swing hard—you’ll only have time for one good blow.”

“Roller Deb! Do I have to call you out, my little tooth fairy?” Dave’s giant feet pounded into the cobblestone floor. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed a tiny skeleton between the cracks of the stones. I knew I had to make this shot really spectacular, unless I wanted my bones to be so much garbage on the bottom of a troll’s shoe, as well.

“Harlow, get up,” Dave said, and I could see his hairy hands pulling Harlow up by the dreadlocks. “Call that little wife of yours. I don’t have the patience for hide and seek, anymore.”

Dave bent over Harlow, and reached for the pouch around his neck—the pouch that had my wisdom teeth in it—and although I was horrified, I knew I had no time to lose. I ran out from under the table, and thought “big,” as hard as I could. I blinked, and was towering over the wall of the stall—I must have been at least nine feet tall. I reached down for the mace, and swung it hard on the back of Dave’s head.

I made great contact, and Dave crumpled. The only problem? I’d forgotten to use the cloth.

Chapter 20.5

Balls of Fury

Harlow

I had to hand it to her—the girl had balls. Solid iron spiky ones, even, on the end of a chain. But she was flailing for real now, and she hadn’t even swung her weapon.

Sure, the mace had made great contact with Dave, and he was down, but I guess she hadn’t understood what I’d meant when I told her to protect her skin from the iron. She’d grabbed that handle full-on, and now she was kneeling, back to her regular size, on the floor of the stall.

Still, it didn’t seem to be hurting her as much as I’d thought it would. Maybe because she was so large when she took it, I don’t know. There’s a lot of fairy magic I still don’t totally understand. The magazines at the landfill never really covered that, you know?

“Fuck my life!” she screamed. The crowd backed away momentarily, but then I could feel the energy changing—charging, as if. Had she just cast a spell on them?

“Damn it, Deb, I really wish you hadn’t said that,” I said. I tried to get on my feet, but I was still so weak.

All I wanted to do was get us the hell out of Dodge. There was a crowd now, and beyond just the simple fact that our cover was completely blown by coming here, there were sure to be members of Dave & Jag’s mafia looking on. I was physically vulnerable and desperate—not a good combination for anyone, especially a troll.

And as ignorant as I may have been about fairy physiology, I’d seen what a mob of them could do, before. Those nights singing on stage at the casino basically gave me a front-row ticket to the world’s most gory mosh pit. On a good night, they’d throw their panties and lingerie onto the stage. On a bad night, they’d throw wings, fingers, arms—and once, a head.

And that was just when they were having fun.

Still, Dave was unconscious, so that gave us a leg up, for now. I forced myself to take a deep breath, before pressing on. Maybe there was a way to get us out of here, after all.

“Tainted!” someone yelled.

“Tainted! Tainted!” came a scream in response. Then the chant began, and the crowd was stirring around us.

Or maybe not.

Chapter Twenty-One

Freebird

Deb

My skin sizzled a little bit. I wanted to watch it reacting—it was completely spellbinding.

“Tainted!” The natives were restless, indeed. I could sense the fear and anger in them, but they weren’t attacking. Not yet.

I dropped the mace, and some of my skin went with it. That part burned.

Harlow was on his feet. “You can’t touch iron—don’t ever touch it with your bare hands.” He breathed a little on my palm, and the pain subsided, but it still throbbed. “I don’t know if I can fix this. We gotta get back to the mansa,” he said.

Dave lay immobile on the floor. The crowd pressed toward us, swallowing poor Derek in its wake.

One blue-skinned fairy with enormous solid black eyes screamed into my face in a voice that sound like a cat walking across a piano. “Tainted!” The iridescent butterfly wings whispered as she snarled at me in pain from the air.

I definitely wasn’t making any friends here.

And then there were iron fillings flying everywhere. The crowd was shrieking and running away from the stall. A very small man wiped iron shavings from his hands, cursing. Mace, himself, I took it.

“Get him out of here!” he bellowed, gesturing at Dave. “And you’re going to owe me big for this one, Harlow! A dwarf never forgets.”

“How much to make you forget?” Harlow asked. The dwarf shrugged, before he turned away. The mace and flail went back onto the wall, and I instantly felt their loss. Those were great weapons, even if they were poison. Mace stepped over Dave and continued working as if he were invisible.

Harlow panted, but seemed to be regaining some strength.

Dave was impossibly still.
What had I done?
“Is he dead?” I asked.

“Dave?” Harlow asked. “Probably not. Iron’s a lot harder on fairy folk than it is on trolls.We still have trouble taking a direct hit from it—don’t get me wrong—but I imagine he’ll bounce back in a few hours.”

He took my hand, then immediately let it go. For a moment, he stared into my eyes, searching—then, he shook his head, like shaking off a bad thought.

“You’re wounded. C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get out of here before we get into even more trouble.”

“Derek,” I said. The kid was frozen solid, staring at Dave’s crumpled form. The tide of magical folk had gone out, and he remained transfixed in that same spot. Mace threw a drop cloth over Dave, like a blanket—a shock blanket, I thought.

Was Derek also in shock?

“Derek,” I said again, approaching him. He met my eyes, but he didn’t say a word.

“Leave him be,” Harlow said. “He can’t come with us.”

“He—what? You just want me to leave him here? Harlow, when Dave was looking for me, Derek saved my ass. I can’t just leave him behind.”

“You don’t have a choice, Deb.” Harlow leaned down and whispered in my ear. “He’s under a spell. And if we force him, Dave will follow him straight to my place. If Derek’s in the mansa, Dave can come in at any time—maybe while I’m sleeping—take you both away.”

So confusing. It was some kind of magic, I knew that for sure—but I didn’t understand the subtleties of it all. You would think all those years of HBO and shit would have prepared me better, but no.

“Okay,” I said. I sighed. Derek continued to stare, as if his very life depended on Dave standing up and getting back on his feet. Maybe it did.

“We’ll free him, if we can,” Harlow said. “When we free Gennifer. When I—”

“When you what?” I asked.

“When I free you.”

Chapter 21.5

Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me

Harlow

The look on her face was pure bewilderment. Did she not understand she was mine? Of course not. Why would she?

Her eyes were full of questions, but I had no time to explain. The crowd had dissipated, but I knew for certain there would be rhinomen, trolls, ogres, and other derelicts of the fae persuasion on us in no time. Surely Jag had been alerted the moment his baby boy hit the ground.

“Help me, Deb.” I took Dave by one wrist, and she reluctantly took him by the other. Together, we pulled him out of the stall, and through the filthy cobblestone paved aisle.

I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but she wasn’t as hurt by the iron as I’d expected.

There was no doubt in my mind she was fae. Full fae? Part troll? I wasn’t sure, but she had the shadow of dark, looming wings fledging out all around her when under attack. I could see the aura, and it was only a matter of time before her wings appeared. I wondered if she could feel them. I wondered if I could touch them.

But that was sentimental thinking and not at all getting us where we needed to go—which was out. Away. Home.

“Where are we taking him?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say. If we dumped him in the middle of the market, there would be hell to pay from McJagger, not to mention from Dave. If we took the time to nurse him, we risked being taken prisoner. Derek followed behind us clumsily, looking every bit the zombie teen. That tiny silver slave chain around his neck sure was powerful. It was amazing, really, what a little bit of the right metal could do.

Then, it hit me.

“Run back and get a bag of those iron fillings from Mace, Deb. Tell him to put it on my tab—and this time, make sure you don’t touch anything made of iron, okay?”