The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (25 page)

Tarah frowned. That statement didn’t make her feel any better.

Steff tired of being rubbed under the chin and rolled over so that he could scratch behind her horse-like ears. A rumbling purr echoed from her large body.

“My next destination is not what I intended to speak with you about, however,” John said. “It has to do with your father and grandfather and why you are so reluctant to take back this staff.”

“Did Esmine tell you what she did?” Tarah asked.

“She was a bit too stubborn to do so,” he said. “However, I did speak to both Rolf and Gad.”

Tarah blinked. “You can do that? Speak to the dead?”

“It is not usually something I do. The dead are quite busy. But this is a special case.” He stopped scratching the rogue horse and leaned forward. “You, see, their souls are still partially tied to this staff.”

Tarah’s face paled and she licked her lips a few times as she tried to think how to reply to that. “How?”

“As you heard earlier, Rolf’s blood was absorbed by the staff years before you received it. Your father’s was absorbed some time later. It’s not clear to me when, only that you were holding the staff at the time.”

Tarah felt her throat tightening up. “The bear trap.”

It had happened a year before he died. They had been hired to hunt a bear near the outskirts of Pinewood. Gad had become well known for his fearlessness in tracking down large animals. Only the logger that had hired them hadn’t told them about the traps he had already laid out.

The one that grabbed Gad was a heavy iron monstrosity and it had cut him to the bone. There had been so much blood. Tarah had tried frantically to pry it open with her staff. Finally her papa had used the Ramsetter to cut the trap off himself. Then he had insisted that they kill the bear first before he let her stitch him up. Tarah had always been suspicious that the bear trap had been the reason he had caught the rot. The wound had never been properly cleaned.

“Then all this time . . . they’ve been trapped,” she said.

“No,” John replied. “A blood staff doesn’t bind souls on its own. It merely creates a connection to make it easier for the wielder to complete the binding process. However, since that process was never completed, they remained linked to you in a real, but intangible way. That’s why you were finding it so hard to let them go. I saw this when I first touched the staff.”

“But why are they still connected to it. When I bound Esmine to the staff and the blood drained from it . . . weren’t they released?” Tarah asked.

John ran his fingers down the runes in the wood. “When Esmine was bound to this staff, she saw into your mind and she recognized that their two souls were important to you. So she used her considerable power to keep those links active. This allowed her to communicate with them even though you could not.”

Tarah’s lips trembled. “Then that’s why she knew all those things about them. Things I never remembered learning.”

“Yes. But please consider this. As misguided as her approach was, she wanted to make you happy,” the Prophet explained. “That’s why Esmine continued using their forms to talk to you even after you asked her not to.”

She placed her face in her hands. “What do I do about this, John?”

“About your father and grandfather? There’s nothing you need to do,” the Prophet said. “I have spoken with them and they wish to have the link between them and the staff removed. I told them that I would do so.”

“They want it gone?” Tarah said.

“They do. Not because it causes them any pain or discomfort, but because of the pain it causes you. They are glad that you remember them, but they don’t want you to be haunted by those memories.”

“They said this to you?” Tarah said, a knot rising in her throat.

He shrugged. “Well, your father did. Rolf mainly just grunted in agreement and said things like, ‘Tarah Woodblade shouldn’t cry’ and ‘Tarah Woodblade don’t need no man.’ I believe that statement was referring to your attachment with Djeri. Your father disagrees, by the way. He quite likes him.”

A laugh escaped Tarah’s lips and she wiped tears from her eyes. “I thought they would feel that way.” She sniffed. Now that she knew that they were there, it felt like she was losing them all over again. “John, what if I’m not ready to let them go?”

“I am afraid that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Both of them have asked me to sever the connection and I am going to honor their wishes.” The Prophet gave her a kind smile. “I can, however, let you say goodbye to them one last time. Would you like that?”

Tarah nodded. “Please.”

He reached out to her. “Give me your hands.”

He grasped her hands in his and Tarah was no longer sitting at the edge of the grove. She was standing in front of her old home built over the entrance to a cave. It wasn’t as she had last seen it, burned down and smoldering. It was the way it had been back when she was twelve.

Grampa Rolf was sitting on the front porch, carving a piece of wood and her papa was standing to the side, scraping down a bear hide that he had laid over a workbench. Both of them looked up as she approached.

“Tarah!” said Grampa Rolf, leaping up from his chair to greet her first. He pulled her into his wiry embrace. “I’m proud of you, girl. You’ve become even better than I imagined you would be. And you know I imagine big.”

“I missed you, Grampa Rolf. I . . .” Her brow furrowed.

“Yeah, I ain’t too proud about what I done in my past,” he said, pulling back, his gaze regretful. “I wasn’t too happy about it when John told you.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking about,” she said. “It’s just that when you were dying-.”

“Hey, don’t you worry about what that Esmine showed you. It weren’t never your fault. Old men die of old man stuff.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “What I want you to remember when you think of me is just stuff I taught you. I know it weren’t all good, but pick the good ones.”

“Okay grampa,” she said.

He gave her one more quick squeeze and kissed her cheek, then stood back, letting Gad take his place. Her papa’s embrace was firmer and longer. “You know, we had lots of last hugs when I was sick, but I like this one better.”

“Oh papa!” Tarah said, tears rising in her eyes once again. She held him tight and let go of all other thought. This was how she wanted to remember him. This was her papa, strong and vital, not frail and weak like he had been when he was ill.

“Tarah, I wanted you to know that I’m glad the Ramsetter didn’t just stay buried with me. That dwarf . . . friend of yours is a good choice for my sword.”

“John said you liked him. Is that really true? I was worried that you wouldn’t like me being with a dwarf.”

“I don’t like it!” Rolf barked.

“Shut up, Rolf. This is my time,” Gad snapped, then looked back at Tarah. “I don’t see how him being a dwarf matters. He’s strong. He’s an academy graduate, which definitely helps.” He smiled. “But more importantly, he cares for you and he sees you for who you are.” His smile faded slightly. “Though I do wish you had waited until you got married.”

“Papa!” she said, her cheeks turning red. She hadn’t considered that he would have known about that.

“I should have gotten around to talking to you about that kind of stuff, but I don’t know. It wasn’t easy. That’s a talk for a momma to have, you know.” He cleared his throat. “The important thing is that he makes you happy and all that.”

“He does,” she said, though his focus on the subject made her slightly uncomfortable. They were talking like she and Djeri were all but married and honestly, Tarah hadn’t given it much thought. She had too many other things to worry about. Like the rebellious soul of a rogue horse and a gnome warlord that needed to be stopped.

“Well, the main thing, Tarah is that you know I’m proud of you,” he said. “Don’t worry about the rest.”

She pulled back. “I love you. The both of you.”

“We know,” her papa assured her. “And hey, this isn’t goodbye forever.”

“Just make sure I don’t see you again until a long time from now,” added Grampa Rolf. “Tarah Woodblade has too many legends to make.”

The Prophet dropped her hands and gave her a sad smile. “It’s done. The connections are severed.” He lifted the staff. “Esmine is the only soul attached to this staff. The question now is do you want her back?”

Tarah blew out a long slow breath. She wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. Papa and Grampa Rolf were gone. For real this time. No more voices in her head. She swallowed. “Would she still try to speak to me as them?”

He shrugged. “I told her not to, and she says she is sorry about what she did, but she’s still Esmine. She no longer has their souls to gather information from and without the presence of that dagger to stir her up, things should be better.”

Tarah nodded and reached out her hand. This time the Prophet paused before placing it in her fingers. “You should know that you don’t have to wield her. I know you feel that she is your responsibility, but the kind of power she is capable of in this form may not be the kind of power you want.”

“I know,” Tarah said. “But if you didn’t think I could handle it, would you be handing her back to me?”

“No,” he said and placed the staff in her hand.

Tarah didn’t feel anything right away. “I take it you have been suppressing her somehow.”

“I have,” John said. “She would have been disruptive otherwise. You needed to hear that story and you needed to come to an understanding with Tolynn without her interference.”

She stood. “Thank you, John. I didn’t know how bad of a situation I was in.”

He stood as well. “It was my pleasure. Come, Steff. I’m ready for that ride now.”

The rogue horse rolled to her feet and moved up next to him eagerly. He leapt up onto her back and looked back at Tarah. “Train hard and listen to Tolynn and Beth. The things they can teach you will be invaluable. Also, you still have time to decide what to do with that staff. Her abilities will be needed in the upcoming battles, but if you ever decide that you need to give her up, just speak with Tolynn.”

“I will,” she said.

He nodded at her and Steff leapt forward. They rode into the trees and were swiftly out of view.

Tarah sighed and started back towards the city. She decided to keep to one of the main paths this time.
You there, Esmine
?

Yes
, the rogue horse replied sullenly.

Can you keep us hidden on the way back
? Tarah asked.

Yes,
Esmine said.
No one will see you
.

Tarah jogged up the trail in silence for a while before Esmine spoke again.
I am sorry about what I did
.

Me too
, Tarah replied.
Will you promise me that you will never appear as Grampa Rolf or my Papa again
?

But . . . I guess
, Esmine said.
But what if I want to talk to you? And not just in the head
.

Now that she didn’t have Tarah’s relatives to hide behind, the rogue horse’s thoughts seemed fairly childlike.
Then appear to me as yourself
, Tarah said.
You were beautiful as a rogue horse. That’s how I like to think of you
.

But I can’t talk when I look like that
, Esmine complained.
I liked pretending that I had lips
.

Then pick someone else
, Tarah said. She was quick to add,
Not someone I know
.

As the trail crested the top of the incline, Tarah felt a wave of heat hit her. The smell of the grove was gone. It was replaced by air that was less satisfying to breathe and accompanied by a plethora of biting insects.

“So can we go back to the grove now?” asked a deep voice and Tarah was startled to see a man running alongside her. He was a Roo-Tan man; handsome, deeply tanned and with white ribbons in his braids. “I like it better in there.”

“We go back in the morning,” Tarah said. “And no, you can’t be this person. Pick someone else. And be a girl this time. You are not a male.”

“That’s hard,” he grumbled. Then he evaporated into thin air.

Tarah jogged alone for a few minutes, then suddenly there was a small girl child standing on the trail in front of her. She was a dark-skinned elf child of the race that tended the grove, looking to be somewhere between the ages of eight and ten in human terms. But unlike the Jharro Grove elves, she had a full head of hair done up in the Roo-Tan style with white ribbons in her braids. She wore a child-sized version of garb that the Roo-Tan warrior women wore, with tight pants and a hide breastplate.

The elf girl carried a Jharro staff in one hand and used it to point into the trees above. “
Look out
!”

Tarah looked up and saw a dark shape falling towards her. She had just enough time to raise her staff defensively before it struck.

Deathclaw’s weight bore her to the ground. The next thing Tarah knew, she was flat on her back. He had gripped the haft of her staff in both hands and had it pinned under her neck. The raptoid held her down, his reptilian face inches from hers.

Tarah was startled, but not afraid once she saw who it was. She was fairly sure that Sir Edge’s bonded was no enemy of hers.
Esmine, how did he see me
?

“Illusions!” he said in irritation, his lips pulling back to expose bits of flesh caught between sharp teeth. “I will not be fooled again!”

Sorry
! Esmine said.
He shouldn’t have seen or heard anything
.

“Get off me, dragon!” Tarah snapped. She could feel his rear claws digging into the leather covering her thighs and she didn’t like the way that the sharp end of his tail hovered over them, ready to strike. “Ugh! Do you not clean your teeth?”

“You are being sought after, Woodblade,” he hissed. “You are not supposed to be here!”

“Yeah, well I got that all straightened out,” she assured him. “So move it!”

He snarled. “Not until the others arrive. You-!”

Now
! Esmine cried and the raptoid flinched.

Tarah saw flames reflected in his eyes as if they were coming out of her mouth. She spat in his face and he recoiled as if she had spewed fire. This gave her just the leverage she needed.

Tarah twisted her body and pushed on the staff, forcing him to roll off of her. Both of them came to their feet. He wiped his face with the back of his arm, Esmine’s illusion of heat having worn off.

“Illusions!” he hissed again.

“She’s not very good at touch yet,” Tarah said as she twirled her staff. “Now back off. I’m tired of dealing with misunderstandings today and I will beat you senseless if you don’t leave me alone!”

The raptoid smiled, a hideous sight, as he reached for the handle of his sword.

Esmine, how many duplicates of me can you make
? Tarah asked.

In answer, the forest was full of Tarah Woodblades, scores of them. Each one twirling her staff and heading towards the raptoid. He tensed up, glancing briefly around him, then leapt towards the spot where Tarah had last been standing, swinging his sword in a wide sweep. It was a wicked strike, but Tarah had moved to the side.

She swung the butt of her staff against the side of his head. It was a calculated blow, intended to render him unconscious, but he turned his head at the last possible instant. It was a glancing blow. He stumbled forward and twisted around with a back-handed slash of his blade. The tip of it gouged her left shoulder pauldron.

He hissed in pleasure, his grin widening as blood dripped down the side of his face from the gash her staff had left in his skin. “See? I am learning.”

Then the swarm of Tarah copies attacked. The staff strikes weren’t real, but left a stinging sensation upon impact. Tarah backed away to give them room to work.

He shied away from the blows at first, hissing as each one landed, but he soon convinced his body that the sensations were not real. He closed his eyes and stood calmly with his sword raised, ignoring the copies as he sought her out with his other senses.

“Alright, stop this!” shouted a male voice.

Tarah turned to see Sir Edge riding through the trees, mounted on Gwyrtha’s back. Jhonate bin Leeths was sitting behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. They came to a stop a few yards away and searched with their eyes, trying to discover which Tarah was real.

Edge frowned in consternation. “Deathclaw, enough! You know she is not our enemy. And Tarah, please stop tormenting him. He’s going to obsess about this for days.”

Do I attack them too
? Esmine asked.

No. Go ahead and stop but next time you need to warn me when people are approaching
, Tarah said.

“
I was focusing on the dragon
,” she replied and all the duplicate Tarahs evaporated.

 Deathclaw opened his eyes. He scowled as if his fun had been ended and slid his sword back into its sheath. “Next time I will puzzle it out.”

Edge and Jhonate slid down from Gwyrtha’s back and strode towards Tarah. The named warrior was regarding her with curiosity more than anger. “Did you know that the Protector of the Grove is looking for you?”

“It has been that kind of day,” Tarah said resignedly. “He’s been ignoring me for days, but as soon as I poke my head out the door he wants to talk to me.”

“Is this what you call ‘poking your head out the door’?” Jhonate asked. “Sneaking off to the Jharro Grove? You are most fortunate that you did not enter. If you had, the elves would have killed you.”

“Yeah, I was just on my way back from there,” Tarah said, raising her arm to show them the Jharro bracelet. “You’re right. They did try to kill me. But the Prophet stopped them and now I have to train my magic with Tolynn every day.”

“Tolynn?” Jhonate said. “She is taking on a trainee?”

“Wait, the Prophet was there?” Edge asked.

“Hello, Gwyrtha. Do you remember me?” said a child’s voice.

Everyone turned around in surprise. The elf child had reappeared and was standing in front of Gwyrtha, reaching out to touch the rogue horse’s nose. Gwyrtha sniffed at her and cocked her large lizard-like head.

“Who is that elf child and why is she dressed like one of my people?” Jhonate asked in surprise.

“Gwyrtha says it’s an illusion,” said Sir Edge.

“It’s Esmine,” Tarah said, surprised that the rogue horse was showing herself to the others. “She doesn’t like appearing as her true self. Or, who she used to be. The child thing is new.”

The little girl turned her face towards them. “John said I should try talking to everyone. That way I won’t be so bored.” She looked back at Gwyrtha. “Remember how we used to play in the big field behind father’s shed?”

“Uh, she can’t talk back to you,” Edge said. “But she does remember you. She says that she thought you were dead.”

“I am,” the little girl responded and patted the top of Gwyrtha’s head again.

They traveled back to Roo-Tan’lan and Esmine’s illusionary elf child rode Gwyrtha’s back the whole way. Deathclaw walked beside them, trying to attune his senses to the rogue horse’s magic. Sir Edge and Jhonate peppered Tarah with questions along the way, forcing her to recount her experience in the grove.

Each of them brought their own angle to the interrogation. Jhonate seemed to be bothered that Tarah had gotten away without execution, while Edge seemed more frustrated that the Prophet hadn’t stayed around long enough to talk to him. He particularly didn’t like John’s insinuation that major players were going to die during the fight. Many of those that the Prophet considered major players were his friends.

Tarah was mainly focused on trying to answer their questions without giving away too many personal details. She had so much difficulty with it that twice along the way Esmine offered to create a diversion so that she could escape. Though the offer was quite tempting, Tarah made herself decline. As nice as it would be to disappear out from under their noses, she was counting on these two to be allies.