chiseled.
"I'm going to crush your head," came a voice like gravel in a blender.
I was glad I'd had a pee.
Please Don't
The troll stormed across the circular drive like a collection of boulders piled up until it represented the last thing you wanted marching toward you threatening to scrunch your head until brains squeezed out your ears and your eyeballs popped. Um, not that you'd want anything to do that.
I adjusted my position to one that allowed me to run, meaning I ran the hell out of there as fast as I could.
Phone still in hand, I hit speed dial, and when Rikka replied with a grunt I screamed, "Where the hell are you?"
"Where are you?"
"Me? I'm at zombie HQ and they are all either dead or missing."
"What are you blathering about, Spark? Of course they're dead, they're zombies." Sometimes Rikka really annoys me.
"No, I mean, dead, dead. As in a troll squished their heads. That kind of dead. And there's one here now, wearing an aviator jacket and sunglasses, and he wants to do the same to me. Have you spoken to Paul?"
"No, we were just coming up to see how you were doing. Can't get hold of him."
"Hurry. These trolls are making me wish I'd stayed home, Rikka."
"Hang on, be there soon."
I hung up. And did some more running.
Fighting trolls is dangerous, mainly because you absolutely, under no circumstances, can kill them. They are immortal, feel no real pain, can be broken down only to put themselves back together again, and you can't even suck the magic out of them as they are too pure a creature.
As I dashed around the side of the building, all of this and more went through my mind, but then I stopped in my tracks. A flash of inspiration came and I turned, unhappy to note that the troll was now walking rather leisurely but had still almost caught up with me. Damn their long, lumpy legs.
"What seems to be the problem?" I asked, hoping it didn't realize I was drawing magic to myself as fast as I possibly could. I tried not to look at my arms as the tattoos bulged and screamed at my skin, eager to channel magic out at the strange looking troll in a burst of destruction that would leave it as uneven spare rock for repairs to the building made of the same material.
I knew it was pointless. I felt the blackness of my eyes, the stabs of silver sparks that pinged away from my head like spiky horizontal rain.
"This is our place now. You and your kind don't deserve it. I saw what you let happen here. What the zombies did to each other. We dealt with them, put the poor creatures down like they deserved. Call yourself a Hidden? Pah! You are nothing but the dirt beneath my feet."
"No fair. I had nothing to do with how they look after themselves, but this is what they wanted. They chose to exist, and this is how it has to be. We can't have them loose, eating other humans. It would be the end of the world."
"Not for us it wouldn't."
A terrible feeling gripped me and it wasn't the sickness that comes with summoning magic. That was still minimal and it felt odd to not be dreading the comedown. Whatever had turned the trolls smart hadn't made them all nice and inclined to care about humanity. In fact, it seemed the opposite was true in some cases.
"What have you done? What did you do to the rest of the zombies?"
"Don't worry," he said with a wave of a massive hand that almost slammed into me—I would have been dead in an instant. "We haven't let them loose on you all, not that I would have a problem with that." The troll poked around in an oversized pocket and seemed to lose focus for a minute.
"I found one in the city center, and that isn't exactly a help. They need to be contained."
"Like animals," grunted the troll. "No like being animal. Must have respect."
Something was very wrong here. The dude had gone from articulate, if somewhat disagreeable troll, back to being how they usually were in a heartbeat. I decided now would be the best time to get information. "Why are you doing this, then?
"I'm going to crush your head," came a voice like gravel in a blender.
I was glad I'd had a pee.
Please Don't
The troll stormed across the circular drive like a collection of boulders piled up until it represented the last thing you wanted marching toward you threatening to scrunch your head until brains squeezed out your ears and your eyeballs popped. Um, not that you'd want anything to do that.
I adjusted my position to one that allowed me to run, meaning I ran the hell out of there as fast as I could.
Phone still in hand, I hit speed dial, and when Rikka replied with a grunt I screamed, "Where the hell are you?"
"Where are you?"
"Me? I'm at zombie HQ and they are all either dead or missing."
"What are you blathering about, Spark? Of course they're dead, they're zombies." Sometimes Rikka really annoys me.
"No, I mean, dead, dead. As in a troll squished their heads. That kind of dead. And there's one here now, wearing an aviator jacket and sunglasses, and he wants to do the same to me. Have you spoken to Paul?"
"No, we were just coming up to see how you were doing. Can't get hold of him."
"Hurry. These trolls are making me wish I'd stayed home, Rikka."
"Hang on, be there soon."
I hung up. And did some more running.
Fighting trolls is dangerous, mainly because you absolutely, under no circumstances, can kill them. They are immortal, feel no real pain, can be broken down only to put themselves back together again, and you can't even suck the magic out of them as they are too pure a creature.
As I dashed around the side of the building, all of this and more went through my mind, but then I stopped in my tracks. A flash of inspiration came and I turned, unhappy to note that the troll was now walking rather leisurely but had still almost caught up with me. Damn their long, lumpy legs.
"What seems to be the problem?" I asked, hoping it didn't realize I was drawing magic to myself as fast as I possibly could. I tried not to look at my arms as the tattoos bulged and screamed at my skin, eager to channel magic out at the strange looking troll in a burst of destruction that would leave it as uneven spare rock for repairs to the building made of the same material.
I knew it was pointless. I felt the blackness of my eyes, the stabs of silver sparks that pinged away from my head like spiky horizontal rain.
"This is our place now. You and your kind don't deserve it. I saw what you let happen here. What the zombies did to each other. We dealt with them, put the poor creatures down like they deserved. Call yourself a Hidden? Pah! You are nothing but the dirt beneath my feet."
"No fair. I had nothing to do with how they look after themselves, but this is what they wanted. They chose to exist, and this is how it has to be. We can't have them loose, eating other humans. It would be the end of the world."
"Not for us it wouldn't."
A terrible feeling gripped me and it wasn't the sickness that comes with summoning magic. That was still minimal and it felt odd to not be dreading the comedown. Whatever had turned the trolls smart hadn't made them all nice and inclined to care about humanity. In fact, it seemed the opposite was true in some cases.
"What have you done? What did you do to the rest of the zombies?"
"Don't worry," he said with a wave of a massive hand that almost slammed into me—I would have been dead in an instant. "We haven't let them loose on you all, not that I would have a problem with that." The troll poked around in an oversized pocket and seemed to lose focus for a minute.
"I found one in the city center, and that isn't exactly a help. They need to be contained."
"Like animals," grunted the troll. "No like being animal. Must have respect."
Something was very wrong here. The dude had gone from articulate, if somewhat disagreeable troll, back to being how they usually were in a heartbeat. I decided now would be the best time to get information. "Why are you doing this, then?
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