Troll-y Yours (24 page)

Thirty-Three

I
n deference to Ella’s healing back, Aleksander walked slowly and regarded her optimistic attitude with renewed interest. It was, he supposed, like meeting her for the first time all over again. Only this time he was taken in by her smile, not her scowl.

If people could reinvent themselves, his Troll had certainly done that. It’d been weeks since she’d shown that acerbic, smart mouth of hers. The one that cut to the quick and slashed your legs out from under you.

Down on the second floor, palace activity buzzed and life moved on. His plans were no different. The future moved and breathed. It came alive with a passion.

Shit
. Life was so strange sometimes. All too often, this meant bad things rose up and knocked good mythics aside. Not in his case, though. Thank the pointed hooves of Pan, not this time.

And it was hard to think of anyone who deserved more happiness than his little Troll, Ella.

Leaving the bluegrass walkway behind, Alek tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow to help her down the grand marble staircase. He now understood how Rhycious must have felt when all the disapproving eyes turned on him. Personally, he’d been overjoyed for his friend in finding the perfect mate. It brought a much needed shot in the arm to the Remedy Maker’s instability—Patience was the long sought after cure to Rhy’s PTSD.

Surprisingly, getting the fetid eye from some of the Centaur males wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the deplorable looks from the females. Most of whom, he’d bedded at one time or another.

Pausing after the last step, Aleksander readjusted his arm to settle comfortably around Ella’s waist and gazed at the Centaurs strolling in the atrium. While he watched the mares chase their overactive foals, he decided life was about being fair and right. It was about developing a personal code of ethics and living up to those standards.

Bolstered by the revelation, he summoned the courage to carry out his plan and do what he’d come to do. “Let’s go out the back entrance and skip the crowds.”

“Sounds good.” At Ella’s grateful nod, they followed the dark flagstone walkway.

Children dodged in and out of their path that led to a seldom used, quiet corridor. Along the walls on either side were drab beige doors marked with plain lettering—Room One, Room Two, etc.—that housed offices, briefing chambers, and the occasional interrogation room.

“I’ve never been this way before.” Curiosity, not fear, lined her words.

Gods, she was the perfect female Troll.
“We’ll come out at the outdoor auditorium. Have you been there before?”

A huge smile lit Ella’s face and sent his pulse racing. “I was there for the Festival of Trees last year. I saw Queen Savella for the first time and heard her speech on peace and unity.”

Aleksander returned her smile. “I wish I would have known you then.”
Instead of wasting my time on meaningless females.

At the end of the corridor an outer door swung open, allowing bright sun to throw long shadows and stab the dim interior.

Alek slowed to a stop and squinted ahead into the light, able to make out several uniformed guards walking toward them in formation. Their heavy boots and hooves pounded the ground, weapons in hand.

Just then, a fresh breeze blew in from the open door, gently lifting the long bangs that hung on either side of Ella’s face.

The group advanced, continuing to march down the corridor. Alek grasped Ella’s hand and moved them out of the way, closer to the chiseled wall.

Two teams of Centaur warriors dressed in combat gear came abreast and began to pass by. Surrounded within their enclave, an auburn-haired female concentrated on the placement of her measured steps. Her stride forcefully shortened, she shuffled along, cuffed at the wrists and shackled at the ankles.

Pennelope!

All at once, a range of emotions blasted outward from Alek’s core: anger, sadness, hurt, and satisfaction. All sentiments coalesced into a toxic melting pot that threw off his emotive balance.

Pennelope slowly brought her head level, and Alek steeled himself.

That would be an affirmative—it hurt like bloody hell just to look at her.

And the fugitive Troll wasn’t doing herself any favors when her panicked eyes landed on him. She cried out, “Alek! You have to do something. Don’t let them lock me up. You have to help me.”

The guard in true form behind her gave a not so gentle nudge to keep moving when her footsteps faltered.

“Alek, save me.” With the mobility of her legs inhibited by a short length of connecting chain, Pennelope had no choice but to move with the flow of her marching guards. She went to raise her hands in a plea, but hit the end of her chain.

He kept his mouth shut and slowly shook his head, knowing as she did, where they were taking her.

To the bottom grotto.

“Dammit Alek, help me! At least tell Nubbs where I am. Tell him to get me out of here.”

Kempor Aleksander, head guard of the Centaur kingdom, fixed his eyes on the painful past and watched her be taken away. Where once he thought himself in love, and damned the circumstances which kept them apart, he realized the mythic gods knew better.

Pennelope let him think she was dead and gone, let him mourn her—had even deceived him by marrying another and not divulged the information when last they met.

Still difficult to remember how wickedly she’d betrayed him. Much less look at her.

Ella’s hand tightened and drew his attention back to her. Her wide green eyes were filled with questions. “That’s Pennelope, the Troll healer. What did she do?”

“I don’t know yet.” And that was the truth. “But what I do know is that she’s somehow tied to this last uprising. The one that nearly got you killed.” The thought of how he’d nearly lost Ella not once, but twice, threatened to stop his heart all over again.

The less Ella knew about the political dregs of kingdom business, the safer she would be. It was
his
job to worry about the reign of Savella, not his little Troll’s.

“My mother just called on Pennelope not long ago…” her eyes followed the dejected bobbing red-head, and her voice drifted off.

Last in the procession, looking tired and haggard, Ella’s brother Eli brought up the rear. Shoulders slumped, big feet dragging, clothes dirty and torn—the undercover Troll aged since Alek had last seen him.

For having only served a short term of duty, Eli had brought in the big fish—and wouldn’t that look good on a resume? Maybe the chiseled lines in his face were due to lack of sleep. That would explain the dark circles under his eyes. Either that… or Pennelope had punched the kid’s lights out.

“Eli? What are you doing here?” Ella asked, astonished to see him.

Eli mustered a brief smile in his sister’s direction and a head nod for Alek. “Kempor Aleksander.”

Alek surprised both himself and Eli by stepping forward and offering his hand. It’d been a long time coming, and maybe longer by the way the Troll stared at his outstretched palm.

In the end, Eli grasped his arm firmly in traditional Centaur fashion, each holding on to acknowledge a wordless truce; if not for the Centaur kingdom, then for Ella.

*~*~*

If she hadn’t witnessed the impossible happening, Ella would’ve never believed it took place. In many ways, she wanted to warn Al not to trust her brother, to guard his back and be cynical of whatever Eli said.

But something was going on between the two males. Something that spoke at a deeper level she couldn’t understand, and wasn’t made privy to.

Eli broke his connection from Al and took a step back, moving to stand toe to toe with her. “Can I ask you something?”

Pan’s flute. Now what?
Wary, she nodded. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“For what?”
Call me a bitch, but I want him to say it.

Eli didn’t let her down. “For being a self-centered, emotionally repugnant, asshole of a brother.” He dipped his gaze to his muddy boots, then met her eyes again. “I can’t read auras like you, but I don’t need Troll abilities to know how hurt you’ve been over the years. Can you ever forgive me?”

Ella’s heart thumped behind her ribs so loudly, she nearly glanced down along the hall to see whether a marching band paraded by. Suddenly, tears welled at the words she thought she’d never hear. All she ever wanted was for her family to love her.

Was it too much to ask?

Eli would be a welcomed start.

Through her tears, Ella nodded. She took a deep breath, knowing mercy had to begin somewhere. “You’re forgiven, little brother.”

One day, she hoped she could feel the words she’d just spoken, feel the well of forgiveness in the depth of her heart.

Alek squeezed her hand, then let go so she could hug her brother.

Eli hugged her back, but when she flinched from the arm directly over her injury, he pulled away.

“It’s okay,” she reassured. “My back is still healing.”

“I heard you were injured.” His eyes flicked to Al for a moment. “And everything’s going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Ella wrapped her arm around Al’s trim waist and snuggled into his warm, quiet strength. Gazing into her Centaur lover’s dark chocolate eyes, she answered Eli. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

If the mythic gods allowed it, she hoped her dream would come true.

“I’m relieved you’re all right.” Eli dropped an unexpected kiss on her cheek. “Take good care of my sister, Kempor Aleksander.”

“Expect no less, kid.”

Renewed with an energetic spring in his steps, her brother jogged to catch up with the guards and their single female prisoner before they passed through an unmarked door.

The door was beige like all the rest, but Ella hadn’t noticed it until now. “What’s Eli doing here? Why is he with your soldiers?”

Confusion spun her head, or maybe it was from bouncing her gaze between her brother and Al, looking for answers. She had more questions to ask, and probably more after that.

Al’s blunt fingers stroked the hair curling about her face and tucked a lock behind an ear.

She felt so damned anxious—which is not how she wanted to feel at the moment.

“Your brother works for the Centaur Crown. He’s not military, so I can’t answer what his job is. You’ll have to ask Eli yourself.”

Ella nodded. So, this was the job her parents were so proud of. She doubted they knew what he did for a living, which selfishly made her feel a tad better. It also helped to mend the rift between Eli and her. If she wanted to understand her brother better, she needed to talk to him. A safe, neutral subject like his work seemed the best way to start.

At the plain door behind Al’s shoulder, a movement caught her eye. She pointed with a finger. “What’s through that door?”

“It’s where we keep the prisoners awaiting trial.”

“And that’s where Pennelope is?”

Al nodded, then motioned with a tilt of his head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

He produced a key from his pants pocket, slid it in the lock and turned. The metal door opened with a slight grind. Al slipped a protective arm around her waist and walked them in.

The interior space was large, cavernous really. Along the walls on each side, rooms were carved out of solid granite and iron bars fitted across the fronts.

Pennelope stood facing one of the cells, arguing with the guards and refusing to walk in.

A large, blond-haired mountain of a Centaur stepped forward and picked her up like a pile of dirty laundry. He deposited her, shackles and all, into her new home.

“Hey, when do I get out of here? What’s going to happen to me?” Deeper inside the grotto, a male banged the bars, causing them to rattle loudly in the abysmal cave. The racket made like a rubber ball and bounced off the walls until it eventually faded away.

Ella leaned forward to peek around Al’s sizeable form and sucked in her breath. “Al, look! There’s the human hunter.”

“Yup. Not looking so dangerous now, is he?”

Locked up, the human wasn’t scary at all. Next to the colossal male Centaurs, he seemed smaller, less intimidating.

“Will he have a trial?” she asked.

Al shrugged. “Incarcerating a human set a precedent. Savella is deciding the best course of action to take.”

“You can’t keep me here forever! I’ve got people who’ll come looking for me.”

One of the guards apparently had enough, because he shoved the rounded end of his pike through the bars and punched the man in his belly. Instead of grabbing the wooden pole like a soldier would have done, the human folded in on himself. He clutched his stomach with both arms and moved to the back of his cell.

At least he was quiet after that.

“Come to watch the cell door close behind the Troll bitch?” Mr. Nubbs had come in and stood observing behind them.

Looking shocked, Ella glanced his way.

“Sorry,” he muttered low.