The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (3 page)

BOOK: The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9)
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“Omar?” she said and the trollkin with the cat-like ears looked down at her in curiosity. She pointed at his twisted lump of a nose. “You poor thing. Can you breathe?”

 

He blinked at her and she could tell that he was sensitive about his disfigurement. “I breathe.”

 

“Oh, but you will breathe so much better,” she purred and reached into him with her power, her fingers writhing bonelessly with the energy of the rings.

 

She had been using the rings for over a month now and she was still impressed by the complexity of Stardeon’s creation. The rings established a link between her mind and the body of the creature before her. This link was much like a bonding wizard had with his bonded, but it was linked with its physiology only. She couldn’t hear the creature’s thoughts or emotions, but she could feel and see within its body. 

 

This trollkin didn’t just have a facial deformity. The very bone structure of his skull was twisted. This was why his fangs protruded from his mouth so strangely. This most likely also gave him chronic headaches; something else that he would be grateful to have relieved. Fixing these defects would be a delicate procedure, requiring her to move large blood vessels out of the way while she reconfigured the bone. Carefully, she poured her magic into the trollkin’s flesh-.

 


Fish, chicken, duck, goose
!”

 

Arcon’s voice was as loud in her ears as if he were shouting right into them. Mellinda jerked in surprise and the trollkin screeched in pain. Blood erupted from one of Omar’s nostrils in several long spurts.

 

“Omar!” shouted the king.

 

Hurriedly, Mellinda shoved Arcon’s voice away and repaired the ruptured artery. She then moved on to his bone structure. Omar continued to screech as she worked and just as Mellinda put the finishing touches on the flesh of his face, she was tackled by the king’s assistant.

 

“What did you do to him?” Murtha demanded. Her weight pinned Mellinda to the ground and the long talons on her fingertips pierced deeply into the flesh of Mellinda’s arms.

 

Mellinda’s first instinct was to destroy her. It would have been so easy to use the rings’ power to explode the trollkin from within as Ewzad Vriil had done so many times in the past. If it weren’t for Arcon cheerfully egging her on, she might have done so. Instead, Mellinda ignored the pain of Murtha’s attack. Her voice was calm as she said, “I fixed him. Look for yourself.”

 

“My face!” Omar exclaimed. Touching his new features with trembling fingers. All traces of his former disfigurement were gone. He now had a proud human nose and his fangs no longer protruded oddly, but had been shortened and fit snuggly in the proper place in his mouth. “It’s different.”

 

“Murtha, let her go!” the king commanded.

 

“How many more of us will she change?” the half-dwarf replied, her grip tightening. Mellinda gasped with the pain.

 

“It is okay. It hurt but I-I am better,” said Omar, a smile touching his mouth. “Look at my face, Trelsk!”

 

“Let her up, Murtha,” the king said, placing a hand on his assistant’s shoulder.

 

Murtha glared at Mellinda but reluctantly released her and stood. She stomped several paces away and grumbled.

 

Mellinda groaned as the pressure was relieved. She climbed shakily to her feet, unused to being attacked in such a physical manner.

 

“How badly are you hurt, Snake Woman?” the king asked. “The wounds on your arms-.”

 

“I heal swiftly, my king. In that way I am not so different from your people,” she assured him. Fast healing was one of the benefits that had come from turning the power of the rings inward. She could feel the magic working. The wounds had already stopped bleeding and, though they were tender, they itched more than hurt.

 

“Good.” The king’s human arm shot out and his powerful fingers wrapped around Mellinda’s slender neck. “Then hear me, snake. You will not use your magic on any of my people without permission. Do you understand?”

 

His grip was firm, but not so tight that she couldn’t reply. “Of course, my king. I apologize. I meant no harm.”

 

The king glanced at Omar, who was still feeling his face in shocked amazement, and nodded. He released her from his grasp. “Come. Let us put this magic of yours to good use.”

 

He headed down a trail that curved along the outer edge of the swamp lake. Murtha hurried after him. Mellinda cleared her throat and followed, ignoring the lumbering forms of Omar and Trelsk that shadowed her.

 

What were you thinking, you fool
? she demanded.
That was very nearly a disaster
!

 


Did I disrupt you
?” Arcon replied, joyfully feigning surprise. “
I thought that my voice was
as a mere ‘buzzing of a fly’.

 

The trail led them to the north side of the lake. There they came upon the ruins of several small stone buildings that had become completely overgrown. Standing between the ruins was a single stone chair that faced the water. It was eroded and covered with moss, but there were just enough carvings on the chair’s surface that Mellinda’s memories were awakened.

 

They were standing in Solitude, the center of the gardens. It was a holy place, the one location in all of KhanzaRoo where the High Priestess had been able to find complete respite from the rigors of her position. When the High Priestess sat in the Lone Chair, no one was allowed to approach. None dared even speak until she stood to leave.

 

The last time Mellinda had been in Solitude, KhanzaRoo had been abandoned by its people. She, the Troll Queen; sole ruler of the swamplands of Malaroo, had sat in the Lone Chair herself. But unlike the Roo High Priestesses of old, she had found no peace there. The gardens had been dead, poisoned by the thick layer of troll slime that covered the surface of the water. The air had reeked from the stench of the bloated corpses of the ornamental fish that had once populated the lake and her magical control over her vast troll army had been the only thing keeping the place quiet.

 

Now, a thousand years later, life had found a way to re-enter the lake. Though a thin layer of slime still coated the waters and the flowers that bloomed were foreign and strange, it was lush and green. Solitude felt like a holy place once more.

 

The Troll King approached the Lone Chair and Mellinda began chewing her bottom lip again. As he sat in the chair there was a certain regal rightness about him that set her on edge. Despite the ragged condition of his raiment and the deformities that marked him, he belonged in this place.

 


It bothers you, doesn’t it
?” Arcon observed, his voice smug. “
You hate the thought of someone else ruling your old homeland
.”

 

Mellinda smoothed her expression.
It will be mine again soon enough
.

 

There was a splash at the lake’s edge. A thin, lanky form climbed out of the water and rose to its feet. It was naked and sexless and at first glance Mellinda thought it a common troll. Then she noticed its very human mouth and eyes. It approached the king with easy strides, its clawed hands clasped together, and gave the king a reverent bow.

 

“The Mother’s womb stirs.” Its voice was raspy, with a distinctly aristocratic accent.

 

“Where are my cullers?” the king asked.

 

“They are at work in the city. It is an odd time of day for her to birth, is it not?” it asked.

 

The Troll King looked to Murtha. “Go and fetch them for me.”

 

The half dwarf glanced nervously in Mellinda’s direction, not wanting to leave him with her. “I c-can do it, k-king. I was your c-culler once.”

 

“Alone?” he asked.

 

“Omar and Trelsk-k c-can help me,” she suggested and the two bulky trollkin nodded happily at being offered such an honorable task.

 

“If I might ask, oh king,” said the troll with the human mouth. “Why does the Mother stir at this hour?”

 

“I have brought her a visitor,” the Troll King replied, gesturing towards Mellinda.

 

It looked at her and cocked its head, noticing her for the first time. “Ah! You have found the snake, I see.”

 

Mellinda ignored Arcon’s laughter and forced a sultry smile. “My name is Mellinda.” She extended her hand towards him, palm down. “I have known the Mother for a very long time.”

 

“Of course.” It took her proffered hand in the traditional manner of the Roo nobility, resting its forefinger just under the base of her fingers. “I am the First. The Mother has told me much about you.”

 

“Has she?” said Mellinda, arching an eyebrow. This creature was a mystery.

 


It makes you wonder just how much they know. Doesn’t it
?” Arcon asked.

 

“Indeed,” said the First. He bent and gently kissed her knuckles just as one of the ruling house would greet a minor priestess.

 

Intriguing
, she thought.
How does a creature such as this know proper court etiquette
?

 


Maybe his goddess taught it to him in the womb
,” Arcon suggested. “
Like the Troll King said
.”

 

Not likely. What would she know of it
? Mellinda replied. Aloud she said, “And what has the Mother said about me?”

 

The First opened his mouth to respond, but the Troll King grunted and he paused, changing what he was going to say. “She says that your power is to be respected.” He dropped her hand and turned back to the king. “She comes.”

 

As if in response, the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The calm waters of the lake rippled and shook as something moved in the depths. Slowly an enormous dark form rose towards the surface.

 

A dome of glistening greenish flesh rose from the slimy waters. It continued upwards until it was the size of a hill, the top of it twice the height of a troll. The width of it took up a large portion of the lake.

 

Mellinda’s eyes fell on a puckered spot in the side of the dome. As she watched, it twisted and opened up into a gaping cave-like hole. A musky odor rolled from the opening and a small flood of slime poured out, pooling on the grassy shoreline.

 

Mellinda stared with open fascination. So this was the mother’s womb. She took a step forward and peered into the darkness within. A chorus of pained screeches echoed from the opening and she flinched back. A large hand fell upon her shoulder and she looked up to see the Troll King standing beside her.

 

“They will start emerging soon. Are you ready to prove your worth?” he asked.

 

“Of course, my king,” she assured him. “What is it exactly that you want me to do?”

 

“Use this magic of yours. Fix those that need it,” he explained.

 

“This is why the Mother allowed you to approach us,” added the First.

 

“This snake can do that?” Murtha asked, and this time as she looked at Mellinda her distrust faded slightly, replaced with something akin to hope.

 

“You wish me to fix the newly born like I fixed the others?” Mellinda asked, a confident smile spreading across her face. “I would be happy to.”

 

The Troll King hesitated. “The issues you fixed so far were minor. These will likely need much more help. Less than half of the trollkin birthed are able to join our people.”

 

“They come out broken,” said Omar.

 

“How terrible,” Mellinda said, sudden concern welling up within her. If the Troll Mother was struggling to create her people it would be a blow to her plans. “What is wrong with them?”

 

As if in answer, a creature burst from the cave-like opening of the mother’s womb. It was tall and thin. The lower half of its body was covered with a coarse fur and its upper body was that of a troll, green and glistening. But its head was a misshapen lump, as if its flesh had been half-formed and then melted. Large sections of its skull were exposed to the air and one eye wasn’t even in its socket, but instead stared out of the side of its cheek.

 

Murtha moved quickly, running up to the side of the mound and pulling it onto the grass. With brute strength she pulled its arms behind its back and held it still. The newborn creature thrashed in her grip, screaming with pain and disorientation. Mellinda saw both troll and human teeth in its twisted mouth.

 

Mellinda swallowed. Repairing a creature this malformed was going to prove much more difficult than she had thought.

 

The Troll King approached and placed a palm on the creature’s chest. Somehow his touch calmed it. It stopped struggling and its screams turned to whispers.

BOOK: The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9)
2.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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