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Nora Byrne is a forty-two-year-old librarian and single mother who might just be the last line of defense when the Fae come for her small Australian town.
Tiles cracked beneath the creature’s bulk as it paused in front of the library’s welcome board. Stretching to its full height, the creature scanned the library, clearly looking for something. We ducked behind the rows of freshly re-shelved books.
The creature had to be almost ten feet tall. Its skin was mottled grays and blues, and it had a thick coat of shaggy tangled fur running down its back. Its head, easily the size of my torso, had a sharp angular shape to it, like a rectangle but for the two big ears jutting out of it. The ear on the right had a silver ring hanging from it the size of a basketball hoop. The beast’s yellow eyes darted back and forth. Slow and ponderous though it might be, it was moving with purpose.
Searching for something.
“It looks like those trolls you see in children’s books,” I whispered to Sally. “Don’t you think?”
Sally’s lip quivered as she nodded, unable to manage a word.
I didn’t know what to do. My mother had told me about creatures that lurked beyond the Veil, but I’d never expected to see one in our world.
The troll prowling the library looked pretty real to me.
It let out a gurgling belch accompanied by a fetid yellow-green mist, and I thought I might be ill.
The library had a fire exit in the rear. Grabbing Sally’s hand, I pulled her toward it. We were going to have to circle around the bookshelves and creep along the periphery of the library. If we made a run for it, the creature would almost certainly see us. I might have been wearing flats, but there was no part of me that wanted to race and find out which of the two of us was quicker. Forty might be the new thirty, but no one had told that to my calf muscles, and cardio was the only thing I felt as strongly about as I did Karen. They were both the devil.
I guided Sally back along the row of books. She felt cold and clammy to the touch and didn’t seem to be thinking straight. My heart hammered in my chest. With each step, I prayed the freshly re-shelved titles would help mask our presence.
“What is going on here?” Karen’s abrasive tone carried through the library.
“Oh no,” I groaned, my heart sinking.
I stole a glance through the rows of books. Karen strode out of her office to confront the disturbance. When she saw the beast, she stopped, rooted to the spot. She screwed up her nose at the stench, even as she began to tremble.
For once in her life, Karen didn’t have anything to say.
The troll eyed Karen like she was little more than an hors d’oeuvre. Cocking its head to the side, it opened its mouth in eager anticipation.
I willed her to run, but she cowered in place as the towering creature loomed over her.
I couldn’t blame her, but if she didn’t move, she was as good as dead.
If half the stories my mother had told me were true, the troll would think nothing of devouring Karen and adding her bones to its stash.
The creature’s jaw distended, and it let out a throaty grumble as it started to raise the steel handrail.
Karen’s eyes followed the creature’s hand but still she didn’t move.
“She’s dead,” I groaned, staring at the stubborn old woman.
An hour ago, I would have given everything I had to get Karen out of here. But not like this. No one deserved this.
“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” I whispered, as I turned to Sally. “Run for the fire exit. I’ll meet you there.”
“What are you doing?” Sally hissed as I let go of her.
I just waved her off before jogging back the way we’d come. If I stopped to answer her, what little courage I had mustered would dissipate.
Racing out of the row of bookshelves, I collected the book trolley laden with damaged books and pushed it before me. The wheels squeaked and rattled in angry protest as the cart and I picked up speed. The troll’s head swung up, its eyes locking on me and the squeaking cart.
“Run, Karen!” I shouted as I came screeching down the main thoroughfare of the library. My breathing was ragged, as I ran out of carpet and onto the tiles. The noise from the cart became deafening.
Looking down at the damaged books, I whispered, “Forgive me.”
I gave the cart a shove, letting go, sending it sailing past Karen toward the troll’s legs.
The troll swung the raised handrail at the encroaching cart.
I grabbed Karen by the arm and yanked her after me. “Let’s go!”
I risked a look over my shoulder. The troll’s makeshift club struck the book trolley, flipping it. Books, loose pages, and cover jackets went everywhere.
The cart tumbled over itself, before colliding with the creature’s leg. There was a sickening crunch as the steel cart struck muscle and bone. The troll’s maw dropped open. Saliva, at least a cup full of it, splashed down onto the tiles as it shook its head in outrage. Its yellow eyes turned bloodshot as their focus shifted to me.
Its knee joint was bent at an unnatural angle, but the troll wrapped its hand around the joint and wrestled it back into place with a bone chilling crunch.
Karen and I ran for our lives.
The cart had bought us a few moments, but that was it. The troll lumbered forward, its leg somehow still able to support its tremendous bulk.
I was out of options. Dragging Karen with me, I ran like the devil himself was after us.
The troll lurched after us, its gait a little uneasy as it nursed the wounded leg.
The tiles beneath it splintered, spiderweb-like cracks shooting out from under its feet. The troll had to weigh more than my car, and all of it was muscle and bone.
Beside me, Karen huffed and panted. The hundred meter sprint clearly wasn’t her specialty. Not that I could talk. She had two decades on me and was still managing to keep up. Either that or she was relying on the old adage that she didn’t have to outrun the troll; she just had to outrun me. Knowing Karen, I wouldn’t put it past her. At least her legs seemed to have caught up with her brain.
Ahead, Sally and the glazier waited by the open fire exit, frantically waving at us. I risked another look over my shoulder. The troll was gaining on us with every step. They might have been awkward loping strides, but it was much taller than us. One step of his equaled three of ours.
Sweat ran down my brow as I realized the truth. We were never going to make it. Not like this. Not in a straight sprint.
I pushed Karen ahead of me. “Run! Call the police.”
“The police?” Karen’s tone rose. “What are they going to do about that?”
“Just go,” I bellowed. “Before I change my mind.”
I made sure the troll was watching me as I broke off and ran into the children’s section. The creature looked from me to Karen, but it was clearly capable of bearing a grudge as it ignored the easy prey and kept right on my tail.
If I couldn’t outrun the troll, I was hoping I could lose it in the maze of shelves. At worst, I hoped the shelves would slow it down.
If I could shake him in the maze, I could double back or meet the others at the door. I grabbed the heaviest book I could find, a children’s encyclopedia, and lobbed it backward over my shoulder. The weighty text went wide, landing on the floor, and the troll continued to lumber after me.
I reached the end of the first row of shelves and turned down the next aisle. I was almost halfway down when the creature stopped at the head of the row. I stole a look over my shoulder, as the lumbering brute smashed the end of the shelves with his club. Books flew off the shelf all around me.
One of them hit my ribs. Another struck me in the side of the head.
My foot hit the slick surface of a laminated book and shot out from under me. I went down like Steven Bradbury’s competitors at the Winter Olympics.
I hit the carpet hard, the jolt of the impact starting in my well-padded rear but carrying up my spine, undoing all the good work my chiropractor had done yesterday. I winced in pain as my lower back screamed its vehement protest.
Nora, you idiot, what are you doing? People with chiropractors don’t antagonize trolls; they read about them in books. They also tend to live a lot longer for that very reason.
I groaned. Today really wasn’t going how I had planned. I wasn’t cut out for this, but I wasn’t ready to give up either. I’d survived Judas. I wasn’t letting some lumbering brute from the Otherworld get the better of me.
I rolled onto my knees and started to rise when a shadow completely obscured the light from overhead.
Sighing, I raised my head.
The troll loomed over me. Its big gap-toothed grin salivated wildly at the prospect of its next meal. If Karen was an hors d’oeuvre, he must have thought he hit the jackpot. There was a little more of me to meet his appetite.
My brain screamed at my muscles to respond. I had to do something. My hands were shaking, both from proximity of the troll and the pain spasming through me from my fall.
Ten feet of what I’d previously believed to be a fictional creature towered over me. It was even uglier up close, and it reeked like canned fish and rotten eggs. Around its girthy waist, it had a leather belt with what appeared to be pieces of bone pierced through it. Over one shoulder, it wore the hide of some furry creature that tapered over its back. The thick shaggy coat of gray fur melded with the troll’s own hairy torso. It was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.
The troll studied me. It didn’t appear to be in any hurry. Why would it? It was the predator here and I was the prey.
My sacrifice had bought the others time. I hoped help was on its way. The police station was only around the corner. They should be here in moments. I just needed to keep moving.
I couldn’t die here. Not like this. Not now. My mind filled with images of Conor and Shay. Who would take care of them if something happened to me? Would they be forced to live with Judas? Not this side of hell freezing over, and here in Queensland, nothing ever froze over.
“Listen here,” I groaned, hoping I sounded more intimidating than I felt. I didn’t have to kill the troll. I just had to outwit it. I staggered to my feet and willed all the power I could into my hands. Icy mist poured out of them, streaming toward the floor.
“If you touch me, I will freeze your ugly ass right there where you stand. For eternity you’ll be the troll who got his ass beat by Nora Byrne.”
The creature cocked its head to the side as if considering my threat. Its bloodshot eyes watched the mist pour from my outstretched hands.
I felt self-conscious. I was a human manifesting arcane talent. That should have at least caused him to reconsider his decision to have me for dinner. But instead of considering me a threat, he was curious.
It was as if he was judging me. He saw the icy mist not as a threat, but as a physical manifestation of what little power I actually had.
I felt his judgment, and it irked me.
What did he know? Surely no more than I did.
At least that was what I was hoping. If I could get him to see me as a threat, maybe he’d back down. Maybe he’d scurry back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of.
What was a troll doing in the middle of Beenleigh anyway? We had snakes, spiders, and a dozen other venomous creatures, but we didn’t have trolls.
It craned back its head and let out a throaty gurgle that was unmistakable.
He was laughing at me. That was as unsettling as it was unwelcome. It meant the creature could both understand me, and at the same time know I posed no real threat whatsoever. After all, chilling a beverage and turning a ten-foot troll into an ice sculpture required far different levels of power, and certainly far more than I could manage. I was a party trick pretending to be an elementalist, and he seemed to know that.
Oh, crap.
The troll cast aside the handrail which clattered against the bookshelf beside us and advanced on me.
Did he think so little of me as to throw away his weapon? I racked my brain for answers and remembered the stories mother had told me as a child. Trolls weren’t afraid of ice, but they hated fire.
No wonder the beast thought I was hilarious. I might as well have threatened it with a well-cooked meal. I needed fire, but the closest source of heat was the kitchen and it lay on the other side of the towering troll.
If I could dart past it, maybe I could reach the kitchen. Big as it was, it seemed awfully clumsy. I just needed to duck beneath those lanky arms.
The troll reached out, not a crushing blow aimed to reduce me to a smear on the carpet, but to grab me. I threw myself to the side, landing awkwardly on a mountain of freshly dislodged books.
The troll caught nothing but air, but he snatched his hands toward me again, aiming to scoop me up.
“Duck!” a voice bellowed. It was thick and heavily accented.
I rolled out of the path of the troll’s descending arms. I tried to scramble to my feet but the voice behind me shouted, “Stay down!”
I glanced over my shoulder and found a man standing behind me.
He had to be at least two of me wide, and wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and heavy combat boots. A thick coppery brown beard several inches long concealed much of the lower half of his face and his equally coppery brown hair was pulled back into a simple topknot.
“Teine!“ he bellowed in a thick, unmistakable Scottish accent.
A flame flickered to life, floating in the air between his hands. It grew larger with every passing second.
He was a wizard. A real one.
If you’ve enjoyed the real mythology, alternative history and magical creatures in Urban Arcanology, you’ll probably love the Magical Midlife Crisis series.
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