The Toll (52 page)

“
S’fine.” It wasn’t, it
really wasn’t, but I really was trying. Eyes still shut tight, I
didn’t bother opening them when she started talking
again.

“
I just
assumed...”

“
Well, you thought
wrong.”
Ahem.
Another deep breath, and I started again. “You were saying,
about trolls, and humans and power?” I prompted, trying not to
twitch as she cupped her trinket in one hand, then the other,
letting it fall with those maddening ‘clinkety-clinks’, driving me
to distraction.
Did she know she was
making me crazy? Does she realize how much power that trinket
carries? It’s more than that silly cane. If she prizes strength so
much, why hasn’t she used it yet?

“
Oh, yes, well,” Magda
murmured, clearing her throat lightly, “uhm, give me a moment to
remember.”

There was a slight tremor in her
voice. She was shaken, and I’d scared her. She fears me.

Good.
My Other sense was pleased with the thought, and I was
beginning to feel like I had a small monster living inside me,
egging me on or patting me on the back when I least expected
it.

“
You know... could you,
maybe, tone it down a little?”

Eyes popping open wide, I watched her
curiously. “Tone what down?” My eyes slid to the trinket—a locket.
A very pretty one that shone bright, glowing with blue light.
“Where did you get that?” Muttered gruffly, ignoring the curtness
to my voice, I was unable to take my eyes away from it,
entranced.

“
The bright eyes and the
power rolling off of you, it rather, well...” Magda stopped the
maddening trinket dance, slowly placing it inside her pocket, hands
trembling when a low snarl ripped from my throat. Catching it, I
yelped and slammed my lips shut.

Forcing a smile I knew she didn’t
feel, she gestured towards me weakly, hands fluttering about my
person. The nervous anxiety slapping at me, coming off of her hard,
did the trick, and I finally settled down.

“
Yes,” she murmured,
relaxing instantly, “like that.”

“
Does it really affect you
so strongly?”

Glancing towards the back,
she nodded. “All halflings are like that, some more so than others.
We’re too human, so we fear strong magicks naturally—consider it
inborn self-preservation at its finest
,
but we possess enough magic within
us to wield it, and are thus, usually attracted to the power. Ever
wonder why humans feel a rush to be inside after dark? The human
part of us just screws it all up. Myself, I’m attracted to it more
so than most,” she boasted, “I’m of a direct line.” There was no
small amount of pride in her tone.

“
I don’t fear magic,” I
mumbled, puzzled.

“
I wouldn’t either,” she
mused, studying my shoulders a little enviously, “if I were
you.”

Shrinking back a little, my skin
prickled warningly.

Catching my discomfort, her eyes
shifted and she smiled sheepishly. The smile didn’t quite reach her
eyes. “Sorry.” Lifting her arms up at her sides, she held her hands
up impassively, pointing to herself. “Halfling, attracted to, and
yet repelled by, magic, remember? Can’t help myself.”

Try harder,
I felt the urge to mutter.
And give me that damned necklace.

“
You don’t really look old,
do you?” I could see her image wavering, shimmering as she moved, a
younger woman, with silver white hair, deep, charcoal eyes, caramel
brown skin, and small points at the very tips of her ears, peeking
out.

Tilting her head a little, she smiled
slowly, small canines, sharp at the tips, peeking out. “You’ve a
name, bonded to Bektam, what is it?” Holding up a hand, she said
quickly. “But be certain, when you say it, it’s not a real one.
Real name is a powerful thing. The more power you wield, the more
precious the truth of it.”

“
Why?”

“
Well, I need to call you
something?” Tossing her hands up in the air with a flare on par
with an actor well versed in her part, she was right at ease again,
as if nothing had come of anything.

“
No,” I let a small chuckle
escape me at her antics, “I mean, why is it so important? It’s just
a name, after all. What could it possibly do?”

Sobering quickly, she shook
her head. “Everything. In the wrong hands...” She held her own out,
gesturing wildly, a small shudder wracking her frame. “You might as
well sign away your soul.
Other
—Ornthren, Sidhe, Changelings,
we live forever. A life of slavery? It’s worse than eternal
damnation. You are not a mere human anymore, bright eyes. You’re
Other.”

Gersthart.
His name whispered through my
subconscious.

Troll had given me his
name—his real one. A small glimmer of hope lit as something warm
sparked within my chest. He
did
trust me.

At least, in the beginning
he had.
The small amendment made that tiny
flicker of hope die down a little, but not completely
out.

All in all, this new bit of
information wasn’t all that surprising, considering the two
Ornthren I knew of weren’t all that fond of humans. It made
sense.

They probably avoid any
kind of attachment to us, toll-paying/troll revenge induced slavery
aside—which is making even more sense now—though it’s still very
wrong, in my opinion. I still don’t regret hitting that smarmy
donkey’s bum I met at the bridge upside his fat head, not one
bit.
The bastard had deserved
it.

Humming in the back of my throat, I
asked, “Is that all you wished to speak to me about?” Gesturing to
the back were Vidi slept, I put the funny feeling I got in the pit
of my stomach to words.

“
I’ve been given a task I
must complete,” Magda murmured, a curiousness to her open
expression that put me at ease as opposed to offending. “Will you
allow it?”

“
That depends on what it
is”

“
A token, from a... friend.
I was to hold it for-”

“
A price?” I guessed. “In
exchange for what?” I might as well have asked, ‘At what cost to
me?’ I wasn’t stupid. I knew this game.

“
A boon.”

“
Boon? A favor?”

“
Yes.” Silver and black
eyes flashed triumphantly, no trace of the human color she normally
carried to be found. “To be claimed at a later date.”

Closing off immediately, I scooted
back, warding her off, hands waving along with the wild shake of my
head. “No. I don’t care and I don’t want it anymore. It’s not worth
it.”

“
Really?” Magda fairly
purred as she slowly pulled the locket back out, letting it twirl
on its chain as she held it out to me. Dangling it enticingly, it
was more like, her low murmured entreaties whispering to me
softly.

“
It’s already mine,” I
gritted out, reaching out to take it from her. “Give it here.”
Ready to snatch it out of her hands, a loud shout and a high
pitched laugh from outside had me jumping, startling me back to my
senses.

Pulling my hand back as if I was about
to shove it into a burning flame, Magda let it fall, landing
conveniently in my palm right as it closed.

On contact I hissed, shivering in
pleasure.

“
Oops.” The halfling
grinned unapologetically as I glared up at her. Sitting back in her
stool, she sighed heavily, clapped her hands, and waved me off.
“Glad that’s settled,” she murmured happily, letting out a big
yawn.

“
Nothing’s settled. Take it
back.”

Rummaging around in her basket again,
she looked up. “Oh? Alright then,” she straightened up, hand held
out, fingers wiggling, “give it back, then.”

But I couldn’t, clutching the pretty,
shiny trinket to my chest tight. Try as I might, I couldn’t let it
go, it was just too special.

Magda smiled in satisfaction. “That’s
what I was counting on.”

“
You tricked
me.”

Standing up and stretching, Magda
didn’t try to deny it. “I did.”

“
But... why?”

Glancing towards the sleeping
compartment, a look came over her face. “Protection.” Silvery green
swirled black eyes met mine, the face of a young, delicate featured
Fae woman slowly peeking out. Thin lips set in a small face with
wide eyes and a tiny nose, long pointy ears tipping up and out of
her long, black and silvery white hair.

“
From me?” I didn’t know
what to say. She looked so... capable.

“
No,” Magda shook her head,
muttering, “though I feel it might have been pertinent, had I
accounted for your untamed power.”

“
From what,
then?”

“
For her.” Jerking her
chin, she motioned to the sleep compartment.

A thought occurred to me, my gaze
going from the back of the spacious wagon to her, suspicion
enveloping me. “You’re not really her grandmother.”

“
No.” Magda’s eyes danced,
small crinkle lines at the corner of her mouth giving way to a face
that smiled often.

“
Care to fill me
in?”

Unruffled, Magda smirked
challengingly. “Only if you go first.”

“
Never mind,” I muttered,
mouth turning down.

“
I wish to rest,” Magda
said on a second yawn, “all this expenditure to keep the shield up
is draining me.”

“
Right.”
Great. What do I do now
?
Glancing down, I eyed my closed fist, clamped down so hard I feared
I might crush my pretty
. Mine.
I could sense the power it held, I just couldn’t
tap into it.
Yet.
I couldn’t open it
yet.

Why does this mean so
blasted much to me?
I wondered.

Forcing my fist open, I
held it up and out. Small and detailed, it was intricate and
beautiful, but that wasn’t the true appeal.
What makes it so powerful?

“
The person who wore that
cared a great deal about it.”

I’d completely forgotten Magda was
still there. Pulling my gaze away, I swayed drunkenly as I slipped
its thrall.

“
Who’s was it?”

“
Can’t you
tell?”

“
If I could tell, I
wouldn’t be asking you,” I shot back, slumping down until I was
sprawled out, half propped up by the wall.

Magda chuckled, long and loud,
grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve made me very happy this night,”
she pointed to the locket, “so I will tell you,” pausing, she half
shrugged, “what I can.”

Looking up at her, askance, she
explained, “That’s where you get your power from, to replenish.
It’s a reserve.”

“
But what makes it...
full?”

“
Its value. Someone valued
that greatly, and that value holds power.”

Like a name. “So... they value this,
whatever it is, and the more they value it, cherish it, the more
meaning it has?”

“
Yes.” Nodding, she waved
off the bubble of privacy she’d made, bursting it with a flick of
her wrist. “They care for it greatly, it has value.”

“
They love it.” I was back
to staring at the locket again.

“
You should put it on,” the
halfling suggested.

Something about it pricked me and I
forced myself to shove it in the sack of coins I had hidden in the
folds of my sheet-cloak. “Maybe in the morning,” I said
offhandedly, readying myself to leave.

Surprise crossing her face fleetingly,
she nodded. “You may stay here the night, but no more.”

Not sure whether I felt trapped,
slightly rejected, or relieved, I accepted. “Thank you.”

“
You’d do well to do away
with that too,” she murmured. “You are beholden to no one.”
Something dark flashed in her eyes and her voice deepened. “Never
forget it.”

Before I could think better of it, I
crossed the small distance and pulled her into a hug. Her words
struck me, like lightning.

After a moment’s hesitation, stunned
at my forwardness, her Older Magda ruse firmly in place, she held
me back. “I know you are much stronger than you appear, and I know
you bear a mark of great power. Not many can, or would, bond an
Ornthren.”

When my eyes lifted, meeting hers,
uncertainty flicked across her gaze, but she gave my fingers a
gentle squeeze.

“
You’re stronger than you
think.”

“
Thank you,” I whispered,
feeling her words resonate in my bones.

Sighing heavily as she turned, she
shook her head. “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”

“
Hugging you?” I mumbled,
embarrassed.

“
No, the thanking. Sad to
say...” she trailed off, gave a half shrug, and continued, “Mmm.
But I think I rather liked the hug.” Magda muttered in a whisper,
churlishly lamenting my very human, soft ways, making me laugh as
she scrubbed at her forehead.