Nemesis and the Troll King (7 page)

“Even though it is Nemesis who has sent you, Yarg, I won't just give it to you. I expect something in exchange,” she said.

Yarg sighed. Why did they always want something from him? “What do you want?” he asked with resignation.

“Well, I need a few ingredients for my new spell, but they're too far away for me to gather by myself. So if you get my ingredients, I'll hand over The Sand of Memory to you.”

“What are these ingredients, where are they and why are they so important?”

“I need bark scraped from some trees—birch, cedar, oak, pine. Oh, and willow, of course. But it must be from special trees, and they are in places that are quite far away. I can't leave my stall for the time it would take to get there and back again or I would lose my customers to my competitors.”

“Why those trees?” asked Yarg.

“That's easy, Yarg. All these trees have very powerful magical qualities. The birch tree's magic allows one to always have a clear mind. The cedar's cleans any negative thing in the atmosphere, and it can heal. So, if you had a wart that you wanted to be rid of, you could take a piece of the bark and rub it on your wart, and ‘poof', it's gone. The oak tree is full of vitality, it ensures long-life. The pine will give you energy, and the willow gives wisdom.”

“So, if I gather a piece of bark from each of these trees, you'll give me The Sand of Memory?” Yarg asked.

“I will. Do we have a bargain?” Urdelyn asked, trying to sound bored, but inside she was very excited—she couldn't believe her good luck.

Yarg turned to Folgoo. “Is that alright with you, Folgoo? The only way I could do this would be with your fast-travel.”

Folgoo looked at Yarg and Urdelyn. “Sure,” he confirmed. “But how will we know where to go?” he asked.

Yarg turned back to Urdelyn.

Tilting her head to one side, she smiled. “Oh, that's easy. I have a map.”

Anxious in case they changed their minds, she quickly reached into the deep pocket of her cloak, pulled out a well-worn piece of parchment and handed it to Folgoo.

“Very well then, we have a bargain,” Yarg said.

“And you must thank the trees before you take any bark from them,” she added, smiling in pleasure.

Yarg nodded in acknowledgement. “We'll be back soon,” he said, and started to walk briskly away from the table in the direction of the entrance to the markets.

“What about the Nuffins?” Urdelyn called after Yarg.

Yarg stopped in his tracks. His head fell down, brushing his chest, and he slowly shook it. He'd forgotten about those pesky Nuffins.

His gaze travelled to where the Nuffins seemed to be engaged in a game of leapfrog in the open area of the gardens. “Do you think we can leave them here?” he asked Folgoo. “We could do this so much quicker without them.”

“They look to be occupied and out of mischief at the moment. We should be fine if we hurry,” Folgoo replied.

“We'd better check in with the Market Manager. Where is the office?” he turned back to ask Urdelyn.

She raised her hand and pointed to the centre of the market. There stood a bright yellow door marked in blue letters:

Immortal Market—Manager's Office

Murmuring a word to Folgoo to wait for him, Yarg headed towards it.

Yarg knocked gently on the door. When no one responded, he knocked again, louder this time. A banshee opened the door and screamed at him. Startled by this unexpected attack, Yarg stumbled back. “Sorry,” he muttered, correcting himself.

The banshee glared down at him from startlingly electric-blue eyes. Long black hair with snow-white streaks flowed right down to her waist, wispy bits floating freely at the end. She wore a tight skirt and low-cut top, both in black. Her hands were slender but at the end of them was a set of blood-red talons that looked capable of doing some serious damage. Altogether a strange sight, thought Yarg.

Frowning at her odd behaviour, Yarg told her that he would be leaving the Nuffins in the gardens for a short time. Given the problem the little creatures had created on a previous visit, Yarg was expecting to have a battle to get permission to leave them there, but …

“Duly noted,” she snapped, and then slammed the door shut in his face.

Yarg stared at the door for a moment, bewildered with the treatment he'd just received. Either new at the job and doesn't know about the Nuffins, or just too busy to care, he decided. Either way, he wasn't going to argue! He turned and made his way back to Folgoo.

The pair walked past the stalls with their laden tables, through the shimmering invisible door that marked the entrance of the Immortal Markets and straight past the werewolves. They only stopped when they reached the boundary separating the realms. Putting his hand on Folgoo's and trusting him to get them where they needed to go, Yarg entered the silver wave.

When Folgoo moved slightly under his hand, Yarg opened his eyes. Before him was a giant tree with beautiful heart-shaped leaves of bright greens mixed with darker hues. He reached his hand out and placed it on the tree.

“This is the birch tree. The witch said this tree's bark allows a clear mind. What do you think, Folgoo?” he asked.

“My people have long known about the birch. Some of them use it when the weight of knowledge gets too heavy,” Folgoo replied quietly.

Yarg put his huge arms around the tree and gave it a hug. For just a moment he felt rather silly leaning into the tree, but that soon passed, and then it seemed to be a very natural thing to do. He searched for a piece of bark that he could just pull off without hurting the tree. Finally he found a big enough piece. “Thanks for sharing your bark with me,” he whispered, then gently eased it from the trunk.

Making a mental note to ask Urdelyn why he was thanking the tree, he carefully put the bark into the bag secured around his girth, then turned to Folgoo again. “So, it's the cedar next?” he queried.

Folgoo nodded his head. The trips to the other trees passed quickly and without incident. Yarg hugged and thanked each one before collecting the pieces of bark that Urdelyn required. When they had finished, Folgoo brought them back to the Immortal Markets.

Yarg and Folgoo walked through the entrance, the werewolves sniffing them again as they passed. Yarg headed straight to Urdelyn's stall. She stood up as she saw them approaching.

“So, you're back.”

“Yes, witch, as you see. And with all the pieces of bark. Now, where is The Sand of Memory?”

“I told you not to call me witch,
troll
,” she said caustically.

Yarg grinned at that.

She's a feisty one,
he thought, but diplomatically said, “I'm sorry, I meant no offence again, Urdelyn. A bad habit we trolls have.” then patting his bag said, “Let's trade, shall we?”

Urdelyn lifted her hands into the air and began to chant. After a moment, an exquisitely crafted hourglass appeared and hovered in the air before them. About the length of his forearm in height, it was made of glass rimmed with brass, half-filled with sand of the purest white that scintillated in the sunlight as it drifted from the top half of the glass through the narrowed neck to the bottom.

The finely blown glass was etched with a delicate pattern of twined leaves that formed a frame for the centrepiece of the pattern—a majestic dragon, standing proud, with a fairy upon its shoulder. The pattern was reversed on the bottom half, which would become the top as the sand ran through and the piece was turned. Yarg blinked at the exquisite workmanship, then became aware of the subtle, yet compelling magical allure of the piece.

As Urdelyn finished chanting, she grasped the hourglass and put it onto the table. Yarg stood mesmerised until Urdelyn gave a gentle cough to bring him back to the business at hand. He carefully retrieved the bark strips from his bag and set them down on the table, piece by piece.

Urdelyn stared at her new treasures with wonder in her eyes. “Did you thank the trees?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Yarg, then remembered to ask: “Why was that important?”

“If you hadn't thanked the trees, then I couldn't have used this bark freely,” she explained, somewhat distractedly, as she gently picked up the bark and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you for doing this for me,” she whispered.

“No, thank
you
, Urdelyn, for I also could not have done this without you,” he said looking towards the hourglass.

She smiled once more at Yarg and Folgoo, then began to whisper some magic words. The bark disappeared, whisked away to wherever it was that she hid her most cherished possessions, Yarg surmised.

“Good luck on your quest, Yarg,” she said gently, gesturing in the direction of The Sand of Memory to indicate that he could take it now.

Yarg reached out and picked up the hourglass. It vibrated subtly, then started to shrink, as if it knew that it had to fit in his bag.

Yarg stared in amazement before carefully easing it into the bag. He rubbed his hands together in satisfaction, then looked up to find Folgoo and Urdelyn watching him.

“Would you know where I might find Faith's Courage?” he asked.

Urdelyn laughed. “I believe it
is in the valley of George's Mountain,” she replied.

“George's Mountain?” asked Yarg and Folgoo at the same time.

Urdelyn just grinned at them. Yarg realised that she was not going to volunteer any more information.

Ah well, she's already helped beyond measure,
he thought, so he didn't pursue it further.

Urdelyn turned and started packing up the contents of her stall. She smiled mischievously. “Don't leave your companions behind,” she said, winking at Folgoo, then she and all her goods disappeared into thin air.

“Just what
are
we going to do with those Nuffins of yours?” Folgoo said in exasperation.

Yarg shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Slowly they made their way through the markets to the gardens. Yarg growled low in his throat when he saw what the Nuffins were doing. They were picking up tiny wish berries and throwing them at unsuspecting passersby.

“Is this what you call behaving yourselves?” he demanded.

The Nuffins scrambled to drop the wish berries they'd collected and put their heads down in mock shame. “No,” a few of them whispered.

Yarg felt like stomping his feet. He turned swiftly to Folgoo, who was desperately trying not to laugh. “I'm going to see the Market Manager again—stay here,” he said a moment before he stomped off.

He heard Folgoo let out a loud guffaw. Shaking his head, he hurried to the bright door. He stood slightly back from it as he banged loudly. He didn't have to wait long.

The banshee reappeared.

She glared at Yarg a moment before yelling, “
WHAT
?”

Yarg again took an involuntary step backward at the attack and stammered, “I … I … need to speak to you.”

Her face lost a little of its aggression, and for the first time Yarg could see what mortal men might find interesting about banshees. She looked at Yarg as if seeing him for the first time, then nodded her head and ushered him into her office. She turned away to rearrange a few papers on her desk and then turned again to face him.

“Well don't just stand there, take a seat,” she snapped, but her face was softer than her tone.

Yarg did as she commanded.

As he squeezed his broad girth into the chair's tiny confines, he glanced up to where she was leaning against her desk.

“Well,” she said in a predatory voice, her gaze fixed intently on him. She stood up and drifted slowly towards him, as if her feet weren't even touching the floor. When she reached him, she rested her hand on his massive forearm, and then pinched it hard. It took all Yarg's self control not to wince as the sharp red talons bit into him.

“Look at you … so big and powerful … a banshee could get used to having so much muscle around.”

Yarg swallowed loudly. He was not sure what her change in attitude meant, but he was definitely not comfortable with it.

She smiled indulgently at him. “Don't be shy, troll. Didn't you say you wanted to chat?”

Yarg stood straight up and tried to scramble out of her way.

The chair, still wrapped around his behind, came with him. He put his big hands on the armrests and pushed down hard. The chair fell to the thick carpet with a soft plop.

“Umm, yes,” he said, warily watching her closing the gap between them. “I need to leave the Nuffins here just a bit longer and I was wondering if that would be okay with you?”

The banshee smiled and said, “Of course,” in a sugary voice.

She reached out to touch him again, but Yarg anticipated the movement.

Ducking under her arm, he headed for the door. He pulled the handle hard in a desperate attempt to get out of the room and the door came off its hinges in his hands.

“Umm, sorry about that,” he said. He set the door down against the wall and stepped out of the room. Looking back at her from the relative safety of the outside, he called, “You can bill me for the repairs and I'll settle with you when I come back to get the Nuffins.”

He didn't wait for an answer.

A few moments later, Yarg had rejoined the Nuffins and Folgoo. Folgoo was standing in the middle of the little creatures, laughing at a tale they were telling him. Yarg walked up to them.

Folgoo looked searchingly at Yarg and asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Believe me, you don't want to know,” Yarg replied. He bent down so that he could be at eye-level as he explained the situation to Gurt. “Gurt, you're going to have to stay here for another day,” he began. “I need to collect another token, but I will come back for you.”