Chapter 4

Tally

T ime does what it always does and trudges along undeterred by the events of the world. I try to forget my strange afternoon in the woods and focus on anything else, but still I mess up a few of my usual concoctions. I made up a story to Kell about getting lost, but she doesn’t seem to care whether or not I’m telling the truth as long as I do my job.

Now when I go out foraging, I know that I’m alone. That strange sense of safety I felt, like someone was watching over me, is gone. I’m more hesitant to go deep in the woods now because I don’t want to run the risk of meeting a puma or a bear.

The weeks go by with no sign of Norgren. I’m thinking about those intricately-carved deer in the wooden headboard, the soft white furs, when the door of the shop swings open with a clattering of bells, nearly tearing it off its hinges. I glance up as two men stride in.

Two familiar soldiers, their armor now torn up and splattered with old, browned blood. My heart drops like a stone .

When they charge in, their faces are twisted with anger. One takes out the half-used bottle I sold him weeks ago and slams it down on the counter, and I’m shocked when it doesn’t break.

“What is this stuff?” the tall one demands, hitting the wood again with his fist. “What did you steal our money for?”

“Steal?” I ask. “You purchased that from me at a fair market price.”

“What’s in it?!” The second, shorter one looks ready to climb over the counter and strangle me. “He went crazy out there. Almost got himself killed!”

My eyes widen. “How much did you take?” But the answer is obvious by the amount of powder left in the bottle. “ Half of it?”

I’m surprised his heart didn’t explode.

“So what?” the taller one snaps.

“There are directions clearly written on the bottle,” I say gently, picking it up and turning it around to show them. “You took far more than the recommended dosage?—”

Suddenly a hand is around my throat, and the taller man is dragging me over the counter. I gag and cough, and my windpipe screams as he hauls me on top of it. Then he leans down close to my face, and I wonder if he ever actually recovered from how much he took.

“How dare you,” he snarls. “I ought to turn you in. What you’re doing here is a crime, selling this shit to people. I should?—”

Then, from outside the shop, comes the sound of screams. The two soldiers head to the door and look out, dropping me on the countertop.

“Don’t you go anywhere,” the tall one hisses at me. “I’m not done with you yet.” With the door open, the noise on the street reaches me even louder and clearer. Gunshots echo, and there are panicked voices.

“Fuck,” says the shorter soldier. “Trollkin. ”

And with that they leave the shop, the door slamming closed behind them.

Trollkin, in our town? I don’t believe they would simply waltz into a city like ours, not with so many soldiers present. Unless that is, perhaps, why they’re here.

I should probably run now while I can. But my idiotic curiosity gets the better of me, and I open the door to peer out onto the main road.

The clang of swords rings out, echoing down the line of shops and houses. I hear more gunshots, and another handful of soldiers are retreating from an unseen enemy onto the street.

Then, there they are: trollkin. Some green, some blue, all of them wielding weapons, all of them with fearsome tusks. None of them are as big as Norgren, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s among them.

No. He wasn’t like other trollkin. He lives alone out there, minding his business.

A human soldier cries out as he’s speared through. Another falls over when a bullet pierces him in the head.

Shit. This is real, and I need to go—now.

I let the door fall closed and run as fast as I can into the back of the shop, where Kell has fallen asleep in her chair, a pot of something simmering in front of her. I shake her shoulder.

“Kell. We have to get out of here.”

She pushes me away and mutters something incomprehensible, so I shake her again. “Kell! Trollkin are attacking!”

She jolts awake at this, and turns wide eyes on me. “Trollkin? Where?”

“On our street. We’ve got to scram. Out the back door.” I don’t wait for her to get up before I’m moving again. When she doesn’t follow me, though, I turn around and gesture for her to come along .

“I’m going upstairs,” Kell says, crossing her arms with indignance. “I’m not leaving.”

“What?” I’m agape. “But they’ll kill you if they find you.”

“They won’t find me.” She waves me on. “But run if it will make you feel safer. I won’t stop you.”

She’s a lost cause.

Throwing open the back door of the shop, I look up and down the alley for any signs of trollkin. I can hear the fighting even closer now, but it doesn’t look like it’s spilled off the main road yet. With one more cautious look, I dart out into the alley and head north, away from the screams and the boom of guns. I take this way home often, so my feet lead me behind the long rows of buildings, toward the edge of town. I try to control my breathing and focus on my feet, rather than succumbing to the fear and panic I should feel at my town being invaded by a murdering horde.

But where can I possibly go? If I return to my house, they’ll eventually find me there like they’ll find Kell.

No, my only option is to get out, to run as far away as I can from the battle if I want to survive this.

I’m not the only one with this idea. People are fleeing in groups down the main streets as I pass them. When it’s my only option, I turn onto the street for a brief moment, only to find a family cornered by three trollkin. One of them glances up when I appear, and one of his tusks peels up in a nasty grin.

“Oh, hell.” I turn around and sprint off down the street. No more regulating my breath or trying to save my energy. Behind me I hear footsteps, heavy ones with long strides, so I duck into the nearest alley and push myself even harder. I have to lose him in here somehow.

I take a sharp left into a part of town I’ve never visited before. I don’t know which alleys are dead-ends, or where the main streets run, but I keep moving, turning right and then left, slowly making my way to the edge of the city. I hear a roar of frustration behind me, and I risk glancing back to see if my pursuer has followed me.

There’s no sign, and I think I managed to lose him.

Gasping for air, I slow to a jog as I continue on, passing other people emerging from their homes to see what the noise is about.

“Trollkin!” I call out as I pass by. “Run!”

Gasps rise up behind me as the dense buildings give way to farmland. I slow to a stop and lean against a fencepost to catch my breath again.

I need a plan. The farmland is more exposed, and any trollkin who have surrounded the city from outside could see me, so running out into the open might be a bad idea. But I can’t simply charge off into the woods, either. I have nothing with me, no means of survival. Everything I own is back at my home, and there’s no way I can go there now.

Okay, one step at a time. First is getting as far away from this as possible. I look around in a full circle, searching for any signs of trollkin. I spot motion a few hundred yards away, near one of the other homes. Someone is inside, and by the sound of breaking objects, I don’t think it’s the resident. Then there comes a horrified shriek, and instantly my feet are moving, carrying me as fast as possible out into the open.

At first it seems that I’m alone. Perhaps most of the people who live out here simply don’t know what’s coming for them. Then I spot smoke billowing up into the air, the tips of orange flames licking the sky, and I take a hard turn. I race in the opposite direction, my lungs burning. I’m headed straight for the forest now, where they’ll have a much harder time following me through the dense trees, even if I am slower than they are. I know these woods better than they do.

I hear more deep, angry shouts behind me as I dive into the tree cover. My muscles are all rioting against my demands, but I force them to keep going. When I finally reach the creek, I can’t help it any longer, and my legs give out.

I kneel by the water, gasping for breath, and finally check over my shoulder to see if anyone followed me. But there are no telltale footsteps, no branches breaking. Off in the distance I can make out the faint sounds of battle, but I seem to be safe—for now.

Thank goodness for the creek. I drink up as much as I can, trying not to choke as my lungs seize. Finally, when I’ve had my fill, I sit back and return to the task at hand: getting as far from the city as possible.

But what happens after that? I have nothing and no one. Returning would certainly be a death sentence with trollkin swarming everywhere, and I doubt they’ll leave anything behind when they’re done. I can hope that our own soldiers will fight them off, but it’s a weak hope.

I rise to my feet and make my way over the rocks to the other side of the creek. I think how once I slipped on these rocks and Norgren caught me just in time.

Norgren. It clicks into place like a key in a lock. He lives close enough that I could get to his house before the sun goes down, but it’s also far enough away that it’s unlikely the battle would reach him.

Surely I would be safe with Norgren, way out in his pretty little glade with the beautiful house. Then I think back to that day when he fed me, when he looked into my eyes and asked me to stay with him, and I fled screaming. The heartbreak on his face had been clear as day, and I haven’t seen him since. I wonder just how angry and upset he is at me for leaving.

He might not take me in, even if I beg. But what choice do I have? I have no one else.

I try to remember which way will lead me to him. It was many weeks ago, and I didn’t commit the path to memory. Thinking back, though, I recall the general direction, and start off at a stuttering walk through the dense trees.

I just hope that he will forgive me enough to shelter me, and then I can figure out what comes next.

Norgren

When there comes a knock at the door, at first I don’t believe my ears. Surely it’s a trick being played on me. Nobody should be able to find me out here.

I don’t get up to answer. Another insistent knock rattles the wood, and then I hear her voice.

“Norgren?” she says on the other side of the door.

Tally.

Without thinking twice I rush to the door and open it, and there she is, standing on the other side. My human, with her pretty round face and teased, full lips and...

The human who ran away from my house screaming when I showed her what I had built for her.

I can’t control the low growl in my throat. She takes a step back, her face shifting quickly into fear.

No, wait. I don’t really want her to run away, do I? I’m furious, but also so grateful to see her again, and these two emotions seem intent on fighting it out.

“Why?” I ask her. What is she doing here now, after all this time?

Her eyes are round and bloodshot. She glances over her shoulder, and I wonder how much of her fear is me, and how much is something else out there.

“Trollkin,” she says quietly. “Trollkin came.”

Trollkin? I tilt my head to the sky, and sure enough, ash-gray tendrils of smoke are rising up into the air from beyond the trees. Something very large is burning.

The city. I understand now. The other trollkin have come and taken the human city— her city. Her home. She fled the fighting and came here. Back to me.

I don’t know what to make of this. I’m pleased that she chose coming to me over staying behind and possibly being killed. But the reason she’s standing here in front of me is necessity. She came here because it was the only place she could think to find shelter. I am a convenience.

For a brief moment I consider shutting the door in her face. That would show her right, wouldn’t it? But her brown waves are loose and wild around her head as if she’s been through hell and back, and her face is flushed from running, her chest heaving with her labored breaths. She traveled a long way at a quick pace to get here, and I’m impressed she remembered the path.

Seeing her again, I’m more perplexed than ever about what the universe wants from me.

Finally, I step back and hold the door open for her so she can step in. Ducking her head once in a show of gratitude, Tally walks over the threshold. I wasn’t expecting her, so I don’t have a fire lit. Rather than standing awkwardly in the doorway, I get to lighting one, keeping my back to her.

I don’t like how seeing her again makes me feel, how my blood is already starting to change course and head straight down to my groin. I close my eyes and will my cock to stay quiet, then get the fire lit. When I stand up again, she has taken her seat in the small chair at the table, and when we lock eyes, she quickly looks away.

“Thank you,” she says, staring down at the table. “Norgren.”

The sound of my name falling from her lips is divine, and it only makes the ache in my heart worse. I grunt in acceptance and quickly get up to go fetch some water. There is a rather decent well here, and perhaps I can sort out my feelings while I’m drawing it up. I turn and turn the crank, trying to settle the pain of rejection and the anger it brings. Somehow, at the same time, I want her. I want her to stay here, and I’m almost glad that such a crisis brought her back to me.

Which is wrong. It’s wrong and terrible of me to be happy that my Tally has lost everything.

Trollkin have attacked, and a major town at that. They must be escalating, which doesn’t bode well. Though they may not involve us ogres in their conflicts, sometimes it spills over anyway.

When I carry the bucket of water back to the house, my thoughts are no clearer.

Tally is still in the same place, her knees pulled up to her chest. It must have been shocking and frightening for her, I realize, to have barely escaped a battle. I’m glad that she’s alive.

Without prompting I give her a stone cup with some water, and she gratefully takes it. “Thank you,” she says again, and I just grunt and nod.

I know I am temporary. As soon as it is safe for her to return home—or to leave and find a new home somewhere else—she will leave me, too. But in the meantime, I will shelter her and feed her. I have no other reason for living.

Neither of us speaks that night as we chew our dried meat. When the sun has fully set and the air outside is cold, Tally finds her way to the rugs in front of the fire.

“Sleep?” she asks, and I’m glad it’s another word I know, that she’s speaking simply for my sake.

“Sleep.” But I won’t have her sleeping on the hard floor that way, not my soft human. I gesture for her to get up. “Sleep,” I say, pointing to the bedroom, and pull the door open for her .

Tally gives me a confused, trepidatious look, so I gesture again with a little more force. “Go,” I snap. “Sleep.”

She asks something I can’t understand, and I sigh with annoyance. I grab her hand and she tries to jerk away, but I ignore her as I lead her into the bedroom. I push her down onto the bed, and she covers herself as if I’m about to ravish her.

“Sleep,” I say in a commanding voice, and then leave the room without checking to make sure she’s staying where I put her.

I poke the fire to douse the logs and save them for later. Luckily, Tally has not emerged from the bedroom, so perhaps this time I got through to her.

I lie down on the furs and sigh, thinking of that plush body and what it would feel like under my hands, and understand that I’ll never know.