our folk struck long
ago."
The Troll lifted its hand, palm up, fingers
spread.
"Burn," said Mallara.
"Here, Mistress," said Burn.
"You've been a good friend." Mallara took a
long deep breath. The air still smelled of horses. Horses and
wood-smoke and food cooking.
I'm so glad, thought Mallara, that I had that
second slice of apple pie, last night.
"Goodbye, Burn." Mallara put her hand in the
Troll's.
The Troll's shadow rose up, and Mallara
vanished.
Burn dived. The Troll disappeared.
"Mistress!" Burn shouted."Staff! Answer me,
you overcarved shoe-horn!"
Silence.
"Mistress! Mallara, answer me!"
Boots scuffed on the street. Voices rose up
in whispers, then words, then shouts."She did it!" hooted a
youngster."She took the Troll away!"
The Tillithers, cautious at first, poked
heads through doors and peeked around corners. Waves and shouts
filled the street, and in a few moments a crowd converged on
Tillith's Square.
The Mayor and half a dozen town guards
trotted into the shadow of the court-house clock."Sir Burn!"
shouted the Mayor."Sir Burn! Are you near?"
Burn spiraled down to hang before the
Mayor."I'm here," said the shimmer."The book. Where is it?
"Old Norrit had it last," said the Mayor."He
owns the mill west of town. We've sent a lad -- "
"Then send another," snapped Burn."A fast
lad, this time. I want that book within the hour, Mayor. Is that
clear?"
"Why?" asked the Mayor."Did the Sorceress not
just spirit the Troll away?"
Burn shrank and flew deep inside the Mayor's
right ear. "I asked you to send another lad," said Burn, with as
much volume as he dared."Why are you still standing here?"
The Mayor clapped hands to ears and fled.
Burn rose above the growing crowd, searching
the air for faint traces of unbound spell-works.
He found none. Whatever door the Troll opened
was well and truly shut.
Burn cursed, long and loud, and then sailed
buzzing after the Mayor.
Mallara opened her eyes.
She stood alone on a wide, flat plain of sand
that glistened and twinkled in the silver day-light. There was no
sun in the grey sky above, nor any clouds -- just heavens the color
of old weathered lead that made Mallara think of caves and
box-lids.
"Hello," she called. Her voice died quickly,
and she was alone in utter silence once again.
Her staff began to whisper."This place is not
a place," it said."It was not, and soon will not be once more."
Mallara sighed."Plain talk, please. Pretend
Burn is here. You meant what?"
"Hurry," said the staff.
"Hurry and what?" asked Mallara.
"Surely you have not forgotten," said the
Troll.
Mallara whirled. Glistening pale sand and a
dead grey sky surrounded her, but the Troll was nowhere in
sight.
"Where are you?" said Mallara."What is this
place?"
"I am near," said the Troll."But nearer still
I may not come. I may look upon you, and hear your words, and speak
my own, but nothing else. Not yet."
Mallara looked away from the sky."I came to
fulfill this vow," she said."And I mean to. But I must confess
this, Troll. To my shame, my folk have forgotten the vow. You must
tell what we promised."
The Troll laughed, softly."There is no shame,
Staff-bearer. You sought me out at the place of the Asking. You are
here in the Place Between. You have done what is necessary. Only
one task remains."
Mallara bowed."Tell me."
The Troll's voice fell, as though the Troll
were aboard a ship slowly but surely drifting away."My folk are
old," said the Troll."We knew the moon before it was scarred; we
knew the empty sky, before the moon. The forests, the seas, the
bright cold places -- all were ours, once."
The dead sky darkened, as though thickening
-- or falling. Mallara shivered.
"Go on," she said, her knuckles white around
her staff.
"Then your folk came," said the Troll."Soon
the world was full of you. Roads pierced our forests, farms crept
across our lands. And then you found the Words, and the power
behind them, and the world was changed, and ours no longer."
"Our folk have
ago."
The Troll lifted its hand, palm up, fingers
spread.
"Burn," said Mallara.
"Here, Mistress," said Burn.
"You've been a good friend." Mallara took a
long deep breath. The air still smelled of horses. Horses and
wood-smoke and food cooking.
I'm so glad, thought Mallara, that I had that
second slice of apple pie, last night.
"Goodbye, Burn." Mallara put her hand in the
Troll's.
The Troll's shadow rose up, and Mallara
vanished.
Burn dived. The Troll disappeared.
"Mistress!" Burn shouted."Staff! Answer me,
you overcarved shoe-horn!"
Silence.
"Mistress! Mallara, answer me!"
Boots scuffed on the street. Voices rose up
in whispers, then words, then shouts."She did it!" hooted a
youngster."She took the Troll away!"
The Tillithers, cautious at first, poked
heads through doors and peeked around corners. Waves and shouts
filled the street, and in a few moments a crowd converged on
Tillith's Square.
The Mayor and half a dozen town guards
trotted into the shadow of the court-house clock."Sir Burn!"
shouted the Mayor."Sir Burn! Are you near?"
Burn spiraled down to hang before the
Mayor."I'm here," said the shimmer."The book. Where is it?
"Old Norrit had it last," said the Mayor."He
owns the mill west of town. We've sent a lad -- "
"Then send another," snapped Burn."A fast
lad, this time. I want that book within the hour, Mayor. Is that
clear?"
"Why?" asked the Mayor."Did the Sorceress not
just spirit the Troll away?"
Burn shrank and flew deep inside the Mayor's
right ear. "I asked you to send another lad," said Burn, with as
much volume as he dared."Why are you still standing here?"
The Mayor clapped hands to ears and fled.
Burn rose above the growing crowd, searching
the air for faint traces of unbound spell-works.
He found none. Whatever door the Troll opened
was well and truly shut.
Burn cursed, long and loud, and then sailed
buzzing after the Mayor.
Mallara opened her eyes.
She stood alone on a wide, flat plain of sand
that glistened and twinkled in the silver day-light. There was no
sun in the grey sky above, nor any clouds -- just heavens the color
of old weathered lead that made Mallara think of caves and
box-lids.
"Hello," she called. Her voice died quickly,
and she was alone in utter silence once again.
Her staff began to whisper."This place is not
a place," it said."It was not, and soon will not be once more."
Mallara sighed."Plain talk, please. Pretend
Burn is here. You meant what?"
"Hurry," said the staff.
"Hurry and what?" asked Mallara.
"Surely you have not forgotten," said the
Troll.
Mallara whirled. Glistening pale sand and a
dead grey sky surrounded her, but the Troll was nowhere in
sight.
"Where are you?" said Mallara."What is this
place?"
"I am near," said the Troll."But nearer still
I may not come. I may look upon you, and hear your words, and speak
my own, but nothing else. Not yet."
Mallara looked away from the sky."I came to
fulfill this vow," she said."And I mean to. But I must confess
this, Troll. To my shame, my folk have forgotten the vow. You must
tell what we promised."
The Troll laughed, softly."There is no shame,
Staff-bearer. You sought me out at the place of the Asking. You are
here in the Place Between. You have done what is necessary. Only
one task remains."
Mallara bowed."Tell me."
The Troll's voice fell, as though the Troll
were aboard a ship slowly but surely drifting away."My folk are
old," said the Troll."We knew the moon before it was scarred; we
knew the empty sky, before the moon. The forests, the seas, the
bright cold places -- all were ours, once."
The dead sky darkened, as though thickening
-- or falling. Mallara shivered.
"Go on," she said, her knuckles white around
her staff.
"Then your folk came," said the Troll."Soon
the world was full of you. Roads pierced our forests, farms crept
across our lands. And then you found the Words, and the power
behind them, and the world was changed, and ours no longer."
"Our folk have
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