Mallara and Burn: On the Road (6 page)

Mallara counted silently to ten."I came, as
an agent of the Crown, to see this Troll of yours." Mallara thumped
her iron-shod traveling staff on the road, and a long ribbon of
yellow fire climbed quickly up the shaft and coiled about the
head."It's late, and I'm tired. So you can either step aside or
start catching your supper with the end of your tongue."

The shimmering in the air chuckled."That's if
you end up with a tongue, son," said the shimmer."And if it's in
your mouth."

Mallara fixed the guard in a weary green-eyed
glare.

A bullfrog croaked, out in the night.

The soldier coughed and leaped aside, shoving
Tillith's wobbly gate-pole open as he moved."Welcome to Tillith,"
he said."Do try the sausages at the Dancing Hound."

Mallara threw back her cloak and brushed past
the guard. Her traveling staff -- moody, as usual -- spat a tiny
hissing bolt of lightning at the guard as Mallara passed.

"Really, Burn," Mallara said to the
shimmering air, when the guard was out of earshot."Frogs?"

Burn bobbed closer."Just say 'frog' and you
instantly evoke every fairy tale these bumpkins ever heard," he
said."That makes 'em stop and think." Burn snickered."And then we
just walk on by, don't we?"

Mallara rolled her eyes. I could have asked
for a cat, she thought. A nice quiet cat.

"Go find me this Troll, Burn," she said
aloud."Hurry."

Burn zipped away, down Tillith's wide, empty
main street. Mallara followed, walking slowly, reveling in the cool
evening air and the promise of a long hot bath at the Dancing
Hound.

Tillith rose up about her, lit only by a
half-moon and a scattering of pitch-filled street-lights. Like
dozens of other towns along the ancient road, Tillith was laid out
in a straight line along both sides of the granite pavers that once
linked the Old Kingdom from sea to sea. Gone were the towers and
keeps; instead, neat stone and timber structures flanked the road
-- here a general store, here a tavern, a barrel-maker's, a stable
-- each structure itself flanked by narrow modern streets made of
smooth black cobble-stones.

The night-time curfew left Tillith's streets
empty and her buildings quiet, though Mallara could see light
behind most window-shutters and hear laughter and the clink of
glasses from a nearby tavern.

The air smelled of horses and wood-smoke;
Mallara's stomach began to grumble audibly at the scent of a
fresh-baked apple pie cooling on a nearby windowsill.

"Trolls in Tillith," muttered Mallara aloud.
She smiled."Dragons and kraken, too, no doubt."

Burn buzzed suddenly down out of the
night.

"Mistress," squeaked the shimmer, "It's a
Troll. Not a bear or an ogre or a hairy man in a fur hat. A
Troll!"

Mallara poked a finger into Burn's blurry
volume of air."A Troll," she said."Primus Sapiens. Here, tonight,
in Tillith."

"Mistress," said Burn, "It's a Troll. Six
blocks ahead, on the town square. Standing right under the
courthouse clock-tower."

Mallara halted."Burn," she said, "there
hasn't been a confirmed Troll encounter anywhere in the Kingdom for
five hundred years."

"Then walk with me," said Burn."Confirm
one."

"Burn--"

"I'm serious, Mistress," said the shimmer."No
mistake. No joke. Just a Troll. On our watch. What rare good
fortune."

"Indeed," said Mallara. She curled and
uncurled her toes inside her boots, stretched her back, and ran her
fingers through the tangles of her hair."Go back, Burn," she said
with a sigh."Sit on your Troll's head. Find me if it moves or
speaks."

Burn made the buzzing noise Mallara called
the "shimmer frown."

"I certainly will, your Fearlessness," said
Burn."Where will you be?"

"Finding a Mayor," she said."Meet me at the
Dancing Hound in the morning, if I haven't joined you before
then."

"Better bring the black staff," said
Burn."This Troll could keep bears in its pockets. It's that
big."

Mallara shook her head."All I wanted was a
bath and some supper," she said.

"The very stuff of epic heroism," said
Burn."Good luck."

The shimmer hummed and was gone.

Mallara's traveling staff whispered a word of
encouragement. Mallara forced a smile to her chapped lips, put a
spring in her aching step, and marched off in search of the Dancing
Hound.

"Good morning, Mistress," said Burn, from
beyond Mallara's open second-story window."Did we sleep well?"

Mallara smiled a weary smile.

Burn sailed inside to hang over the remains
of Mallara's breakfast. A knock sounded at Mallara's door.

"Come in," she said, turning in her chair. A
tall, bald, red-faced man with an enormous black moustache ducked
under the door-frame.

"Pardon my tardiness, Sorceress," said the
man."But the Book--"

"Could not be found," said Mallara."I feared
as much. But you will keep looking, won't you, Mayor?"

"Without halt," said the man.

"What's in this Book?" asked Burn. The Mayor
cast his eyes about the room.

"That's Burn," said Mallara."Burn is a
Shimmer, Mayor. Shimmers have no visible bodies -- just big voices.
Burn, meet Mayor Homas Frick."

"Charmed," said Burn."What's in the
Book?"

The Mayor tilted his head."Old stories," he
said."The first Mayors started the book just after the sea road was
laid."

Burn buzzed."I assume Trolls figure
prominently in at least one chapter," he said.

The Mayor shrugged."There is an old story --
the Tale of the Asking and the Vow. I never actually read it."

Burn darted quickly to rest just above the
Mayor's pink scalp."The title says enough, I think," he said."The
Trolls asked something, and somebody said yes." Burn sailed back
toward the window."Better find that Book, Mayor. Soon."

Mayor Frick ran fingers through hair long
departed."Madam Sorceress," he said to Mallara,"I won't even offer
a pretense of haggling. I know what a threat that Troll represents.
If you can end this peacefully -- well, you have but to name your
price."

Burn whistled."Troll removals aren't cheap,"
he said."We usually charge --"

"We usually charge nothing," said
Mallara."Averting disaster is the first duty of the Crown, Mayor.
Burn and I will demand no fee."

Burn made strangled gasping noises.

"It's time we went to work, Mayor," said
Mallara."Thank you for the room, and the meals, and the coffee. I
trust we will be back in time for supper."

The Mayor rose."You do that, madam," he
said."The Dancing Hound is at your service." The Mayor pushed his
chair under the table."Is there anything else we can do for
you?"

"Find me that Book," said Mallara. Then she
too rose."Burn, let's go."

Mallara left the table, put out her hand, and
spoke a word. A staff fell from a black slit in the air, and she
caught it before the end struck the floor.

This staff was longer and thicker that her
traveling staff. The shaft was midnight black, the ends capped with
fine traceries of silver, the center carved with symbols that
darted and moved if gazed at for more than a moment.

Mallara turned and was gone.

Burn buzzed."You haven't left anything out,
have you, Mayor Frick?" said the shimmer, softly.

"Nothing," said the Mayor."Nothing at
all."

"Good," said Burn."You're too tall to be a
frog."

Burn sailed buzzing after his mistress.

Mallara halted a dozen steps from the
motionless Troll, planted her staff by her right side, and racked
her mind for something to say.

Her staff grew warm and whispered an inquiry
-- what now, Sorceress? What now?

Mallara bit her lip and studied the
apparently sleeping Troll. It weighs more than ten dray horses, she
thought. I could conjure my double and she could stand on my
shoulders and we might -- might -- touch the blunt top of the
Troll's furry head. And if the two of me held hands and stretched,
we might just reach all the way around the Troll's waist.

The Troll's fur was long and straight and
black. Only the hands and the face were bare of fur; there,
instead, was leathery, wrinkled skin of a reddish-brown hue. The
eyes were closed beneath long, black lashes.

Wolf's ears and tiger's claws and feet with
hooks for toes.

We fought two wars with these creatures,
mused Mallara. That we survived at all is phenomenal. That we won
is simply miraculous.

With an audible snap, the Troll's eyes
opened, yellow and slitted and narrowing as they sought out
Mallara's gaze.

"Greetings, Wise One," said the Troll, in a
voice like grumbling thunder."Greetings, and peace."

The Troll spread its arms level with its
waist. Mallara looked for extended claws, saw none, and took a deep
breath.

"I bid you welcome," she said."Welcome, and
peace."

The Troll chuckled with a noise like rocks
breaking."And who is this who floats unseen at your side?"

Mallara blanched. Burn's blurred form
swelled.

"I hight Burn," said Burn."Burn, of the
shimmering folk. May I present to you Mallara of Sovern, Sorceress
to the Crown, Bearer of the Staff and Wielder of the Word?"

The Troll smiled, revealing wet white canines
as long as Mallara's hands.

Mallara dipped her head and staff in a formal
bow.

"Then we are met," said the Troll."Met, and
at peace."

Thus far, thought Mallara."Yes," she
said.

The Troll took a half-step forward, bringing
it barely out of the shadow of the Square clock-tower. Yellow eyes
glowed below black fur, more alive in the shadows than in the
light.

"The day has come, Mallara of Sovern," said
the Troll."An Asking was made. A Vow was spoken."

"An Asking was made," echoed Burn."A Vow was
spoken."

"Now is the day to set deeds to words," said
the Troll."Are you come to fulfill the Vow, Mallara of Sovern?"

Mallara's mouth went dry.

"I ask," said the Troll."Speak."

Mallara licked her lips."I came to set things
right," she said."I'll do whatever is required."

The Troll smiled. Mallara willed away a
shiver."Courage," said the Troll."Bravery. Honesty. We admire these
things, Staff-bearer."

"So do we," said Burn, darting up close to
the Troll's wide muzzle."We also admire words, well-spoken and
plain. For the sake of ceremony, could we perhaps hear a brief
re-telling of the asking and the vow?"

The Troll halted in mid-step."A
re-telling?"

"A brief one," said Burn, before Mallara
could interrupt."Just the high points, if you please."

The Troll chuckled."This one jests."

Mallara shook her head."The shimmering folk
hold humor in high regard," she said."Pray take no offense."

"I shall not," said the Troll."But again I
ask you, Mallara Staff-bearer -- are you come to fulfill the
vow?"

In that instant, Tillith fell utterly silent.
No horses neighed, no shouts arose, no doors slammed. Mallara felt
as if the land itself was holding its breath in anticipation of her
next few words.

Her staff whispered. It has asked twice, the
staff said. It will only ask once more.

The Troll's eyes narrowed further, and tiny
hints of bone-white claw began to show at finger-tips.

The Troll word for enemy, Mallara recalled,
translated roughly as "oath-breaker."

"Yes," said Mallara, her voice surprising her
with its calm."I am come to fulfill the vow."

"Mistress!" hissed Burn."Stall. Delay. Wait
for the Book--"

"Hush, Burn," said Mallara. She soothed her
staff with a caress and wiped sweat from her brow."A vow is a vow.
You know that."

The Troll smiled again. Mallara wondered if
it could hear her heart racing."Take my hand, Mallara of Sovern,"
said the Troll. It took a step and towered over Mallara."Take my
hand and let us make good the bargain our folk struck long
ago."

The Troll lifted its hand, palm up, fingers
spread.

"Burn," said Mallara.

"Here, Mistress," said Burn.

"You've been a good friend." Mallara took a
long deep breath. The air still smelled of horses. Horses and
wood-smoke and food cooking.

I'm so glad, thought Mallara, that I had that
second slice of apple pie, last night.

"Goodbye, Burn." Mallara put her hand in the
Troll's.

The Troll's shadow rose up, and Mallara
vanished.

Burn dived. The Troll disappeared.

"Mistress!" Burn shouted."Staff! Answer me,
you overcarved shoe-horn!"

Silence.

"Mistress! Mallara, answer me!"

Boots scuffed on the street. Voices rose up
in whispers, then words, then shouts."She did it!" hooted a
youngster."She took the Troll away!"

The Tillithers, cautious at first, poked
heads through doors and peeked around corners. Waves and shouts
filled the street, and in a few moments a crowd converged on
Tillith's Square.

The Mayor and half a dozen town guards
trotted into the shadow of the court-house clock."Sir Burn!"
shouted the Mayor."Sir Burn! Are you near?"

Burn spiraled down to hang before the
Mayor."I'm here," said the shimmer."The book. Where is it?

"Old Norrit had it last," said the Mayor."He
owns the mill west of town. We've sent a lad -- "

"Then send another," snapped Burn."A fast
lad, this time. I want that book within the hour, Mayor. Is that
clear?"

"Why?" asked the Mayor."Did the Sorceress not
just spirit the Troll away?"

Burn shrank and flew deep inside the Mayor's
right ear. "I asked you to send another lad," said Burn, with as
much volume as he dared."Why are you still standing here?"

The Mayor clapped hands to ears and fled.

Burn rose above the growing crowd, searching
the air for faint traces of unbound spell-works.