Troll Or Derby, A Fairy Wicked Tale (34 page)

Pulling it upward, the Rhinoman’s carcass split in half, and that was the cue the dungeoneers were waiting for. My magic was fading, my power spent, but it didn’t matter. My allies were erupting from beneath the stage now, and years of pent-up rage spilled out into the mosh pit, sliding down the sides of the stage into the crowd.

The unicorn kicked a prisoner off his back, and trotted to our corner of the stage, where we all paused for breath.

The crowd had no idea what to make of the dungeoneers, I reckon. They finally took the cue to leave, and a small tide of them rushed for the cave exits. I thought I’d seen gleeful fairies in my days of roller derby and casino living. I’d definitely seen hopped-up fairies, and wicked fairies, and spiteful fairies in my countless days underground here.

But I don’t think there’s anything that matches the glee of a fae with his freedom renewed, after thinking it lost forever.

Othello wept, and when Derek finally emerged from the tide of escapees, Harlow pulled him into our cluster, cutting his slave chain with the silver dagger. “Only a royal can do that,” he said softly. “Sorry I didn’t think to do it before.”

I was grateful, drained, and feeling anything but mythically powerful. All I wanted was a strawberry milkshake from Shakin’ Steak, and then a nice, soft bed to land in. Maybe a pallet on the floor of Harlow’s mansa.

Naturally, that was when the roof of The Eerie caved in.

Chapter 39.5

Crumblin’ Down

Harlow

I had to hand it to Dave, no pun intended. For all his stupidity, he’d had the sense to skedaddle before Deb took any more pieces of him, blowing the exits to the Eerie on his way out.

Thus far, Deb had done a good enough job cleaning house, but when it came to Dave and April—that was family business, and I was ready to settle old scores.

After an initial shower of boulders and the loss of a few moshers, the cave stabilized. That was when the panic set in.

I’d seen what crowds could do, of course, especially crowds of fairies and trolls. Especially fairies and trolls on faeth.

“Calm yourselves,” my father called, and his voice carried deeply, like mine.

I think luck must have been on our sides that day, though. Although a murmur of irritation and a few cries of despair rose up from the exit tunnels, the crowd seemed by and large exhausted from “the show.”

“Let’s just let them sort it out for a few minutes, then we’ll start digging out,” my dad said. “The Eerie’s been around for a lot longer than our kind—it’s not going to cave in on itself today. But it looks to me there are enough of us here to move rocks out of the passages and get ourselves out in good time. If that doesn’t work, we can always get out through the dungeon.”

For the first time since the shock of seeing him alive in his cell, I was so relieved my father was there.

“You know, they’re going to need someone to be king, after all the dust settles. And it sure isn’t going to be Dave,” I said.

Deb laughed, collapsing in a heap on the floor of the stage. “Great,” she said. “Just what we need. A war.”

I knew in that moment that as long as I lived, I’d do whatever it took to make sure she never had to fight like this again.

I also knew I could never stop her.

Epilogue

Freebird

Deb

We didn’t get our war that day. Thank God.

Harlow sang for a bit, and his old bandmates and The Phalaxis joined in for one long surreal jam session as the trolls moved boulders out of the tunnel. If we hadn’t been trapped down there with limited food and toilet facilities, it’d have been just like a summer music festival. Everyone was stinky, sweaty, bloody, exhausted, and hungry. On second thought, it was
just like
Coachella, but that’s another story.

Mom was so grateful for my having saved Gennifer, she kissed me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but for the time being, at least, we were cool.

When we finally made it out of the cave, the casino was empty, and I won’t lie—it was a bit scary making our way out into the sunlight. We didn’t know if April or Dave had booby-trapped the place, and between the lot of us, we were too exhausted to trust any intuition or powers we had.

Still. I had a Protector in Harlow, and for better or for worse, Gennifer had one in me, and neither of us had a glimmer of fear or a tingle of alert as we left the building.

They weren’t waiting in the parking lot, either.

Coach was, though. Coach and Zelda, in a stalker van. Instead of the two-tone brown of his old one, this one was teal with navy blue trim, and the mural was of gypsy girls stripping while King Neptune watched in repose. I leaned into his driver-side window. “Classy,” I said. “But I liked the skating leprechauns better.”

“I no ride in a van with that kind of zing,” Zelda said. “You understand this, Debra. Zelda has class, so zee Coach, he got to have some class if he want to—how you say—
roll
with me?”

“Give ya a ride home, kid?” Coach asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Then Harlow put his warm palm on my shoulder, patted my back.

“Sure, Coach,” he said. “Take all four of us to the dump, if it’s no trouble.”

The back of the van swung open, and inside, two sweet brown leather couches awaited, and a bucket of malt liquor on ice. I squeezed onto a loveseat next to Derek, and Harlow and his dad took the other.

“What about the band?” I asked.

There was a clipclop of musical hooves on the pavement, and Holly and the rest of the band rode up to the van. They were all so thin and frail, they fit on the back of the uni, no problem. “Not leaving without us, are you?” she said.

“The more the merrier,” Harlow said. “My mansa,
su mansa
.”

I didn’t know what the future would hold, but for the first time since I could remember, I was going to sleep well, in the company of friends. Tomorrow’s troubles, and whatever Dave and April would bring, would wait.

As we pulled out of the parking lot back onto State Road 37 heading south, I asked Harlow if he wanted to go back and burn down the casino, just in case.

He laughed. “Arson? Are you
serious
? I’m a troll, Deb, not a monster.”

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Troll Or Derby, won’t you please tell your friends? Better yet, leave a review! Hearing from my readers is always the highlight of my day, and I’m dying to hear what you think of Roller Deb, Harlow, and their first adventure.

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Praise for This Brilliant Darkness:

“The quick, snappy dialogue moves the story fabulously, and with the many change of POV’s (each chapter), the story kept building in momentum into a tangled web of darkness, mystery, and paranormal terror. The fast pace was refreshing and I kept on reading, wondering what was going to happen to Christine and how all the characters twined into the bigger picture. Because of the dark mystery created, I was looking forward to the resolutions. Who or what is Greachin? Why did the entity choose Christine? How does Richard’s deceased wife fit into all this?—for what purpose? There is a hint of more SF going on than seems apparent with the emergence of the flat sun, and the paranormal activities around its sudden appearance, not to mention the very strange and beguiling creature Greachin and its macabre habits—very cool SFF concept, especially when we get into the head of the ‘thing’! Still, a lot of underlying threads left lingering in the reader’s mind which demand a sequel. The main character, Christine, is energetic and likeable. She is always trying to find out what’s happening to her and the people around her. She fights … right to the bitter end.” ~C. Turner

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(It is! That Crackling Silence is what I’m calling it for now.)

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