Quest for the Golden Arrow

  And in that instant the world did.

  Her word echoed across the barrens. A snowflake paused in mid-descent right in front of her nose. The convoy stilled. The wind disappeared.

  Next to her, Bloom and Jamie still touched her hand and wrist.

  “You’re certainly not a one-timer,” said Jamie.

  She smiled as Jamie let go of her wrist and started down the hill to the road. “Come on. We should be quick. I don’t know how long it will hold.”

  They followed her, running so fast downhill that it was like flying, gravity pulling them along. Annie loped so quickly she could barely stop and slammed into the caravan. Her parka scraped along the splintered timbers on the side, and she slid underneath the wagon wheels on the slippery road.

  “Annie.” Jamie’s face was terrified. “You okay?”

  She nodded, blushing and brushing the snow off her legs. Bloom helped her up.

  Annie started to say something, but stopped because of the poor fairies. Their wings drooped, and their faces were ashen and gloomy. She knew that they weren’t dead, but they looked it. They seemed as if all their dreams had been crushed, like they finally summoned up enough courage to run for class president and then only received two votes.

  She stroked the head of one with her gloved pinkie finger. “Oh, the poor things.”

  “Trolls take the life out of them,” Bloom said, face grim and ashen still. “I hate trolls.”

  “ ‘Hate’ is too nice a word.”

  “Despise, then.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Loathe?”

  “That’s good.”

  “What would they do with the fairies?” Jamie asked, looking over at the massive bulk of a troll near them. He shuddered. A smile was frozen on the troll’s face, revealing nasty teeth.

  “Put some in cages and torture them. Make them sing for them. Rip their wings off. The others, the lucky ones, they eat.”

  Jamie gulped and didn’t know whether to cry or slash one of the trolls’ throats. He’d never heard Bloom be so harsh and cold. “You sound more like Eva than you.”

  “I’m sorry, Jamie. This is a hard world.” Bloom turned away.

  Annie thought of Walden Wiegle, her last foster brother who had been so consistently cruel. She said, “All worlds are hard.”

  “No, I’m sorry … I … I’m sorry that I was so angry. My anger made me weak,” Bloom explained, looking down at his feet.

  “It’s okay. Everyone gets angry. Everyone gets weak.” Annie helped Jamie free a pixie from a troll’s grasp, uncoiling the beefy fingers.

  “You aren’t now.” Bloom swallowed hard.

  “Neither are you.” She grimaced and climbed up into the carriage bed. Foul with green troll ooze and slime, the hay made her descent slippery. Several cockroaches had been stopped in the midst of tormenting the fairies with their long antennas, tickling them. Annie cringed. She couldn’t imagine what the fairies and pixies were dealing with. The echoes of their screams still rang in her ears.

  “First we have to get the irons off,” she said, reaching out toward the leg of a lovely little fairy, whose dress seemed to be made of daisy petals. The thin metal easily snapped off. She moved on to another. “Fairies aren’t very strong, are they?”

  “Not really. They can’t stand iron, though, or aluminum foil,” Bloom answered, snapping off the band that kept a pixie prisoner. “It’s like the strongest metal to them.”

  Jamie snapped off another band. “We need someplace to put them. We could bring them back to Eva’s.”

  Along with a sequined red evening gown, the troll closest to Annie had a huge sparkling red purse with a snap lock. She crept nearer and grabbed it out of the troll’s slimy hand. Green ooze caked her fingernails. Warts and hair sprouted out of her knuckles.

  “Ughhk,” Annie moaned, backing away.

  She dumped the contents of the purse onto the ground. Strawberry-breeze lip gloss, two cockroaches, glittery purple eye shadow, three long hunting knives with wooden handles, and an Avon Skin So Soft moisturizing spray fell out. She shook her head. Trolls. Go figure.

  “We can put them in here,” she said, showing Bloom and Jamie.

  Together they crammed in the pixies and fairies as fast as they could. It wasn’t very dignified, but they couldn’t think of a better way.

  As they worked, the Woman in White floated by.

  “Oh, you’ve done it again, haven’t you? Twice in less than two days, that’s powerful. Most can only stop time once a week, if that. But, oh, Annie, my head … my head … You need to refrain from this type of behavior if you can. Oh, my head! The ache of it. Aaiee.”

  “I’m sorry,” Annie said, folding another fairy into her coat pocket.

  They had run out of room in the purse. As it was now they couldn’t shut it. Little legs and arms stuck out at all sorts of angles. Bloom put a few of the fairies in his hat. Jamie stuck some in his pockets.

  “Just let us get to the house where it’s safe. I won’t be long,” Annie pleaded. The ghost’s bell was still in her pocket. She almost felt like she didn’t deserve it.

  The Woman in White moaned and echoed Annie’s words, floating upward so that she sat on a troll’s head. Her dress floated down past his nose.

  “I won’t be long. I won’t be long. That’s what the Captain said. Oh, my Captain. Captain! Captain!” Her wails echoed in the quiet. “Blackbeard … Oh … that wretched, wretched …”

  Annie, Jamie, and Bloom worked as swiftly as they could, double-checking to make sure they hadn’t missed any of the little winged people. Then they struggled to tie up the trolls with some chains they had persuaded the Woman in White to bring them. She’d found them on the sea bottom.

  They thanked her and left her moaning about pirates and deaths at sea. Then they walked toward Eva’s little burrow house, purse full of pixies and fairies swinging over their shoulders, as time hitched back into place. One by one, the grateful pixies and fairies flew off into the night, twinkling like stars in the black winter sky.

  They got to Eva’s house at the same time as Canin—who shoved them through the door and slammed it shut behind them. Eva’s dad was out on patrol, and her mom was still on vacation, sunbathing in Hawaii.

  “There’s no lock!” Canin growled. “Why don’t these dwarfs have a lock?”

  “Because they feel safe?” Jamie offered.

  Canin whirled on him and growled, fangs showing.

  “Not saying it’s a smart idea!” Jamie said, backing up with his hands in the air. “Just saying it might be why.”

  “No one is ever safe,” Canin sputtered. “Help me block the door with this table.”

  “How is Tala? The mayor? Aelfric?” Annie asked, terrified of the answer.

  “Fine. They were all still alive last I saw them,” Canin said as together they hauled a thick wooden table toward the door and flipped it over. Battle axes, hammers, and tankards of some sort of ale spilled all over the floor, making a huge mess. Annie immediately started cleaning it up.

  “Don’t bother with that now!” Canin ordered. “Get more things. We need to barricade the door.”

  “Against the trolls or the townspeople?” Bloom asked.

  “Both.” Canin hauled over a couple of chairs. “Potentially both.”

  Jamie grabbed a bench, but it was too heavy to lift. He began to drag it across the floor and bumped it into a lumpy pile of blankets. The blankets shot out a swear word. A doll tumbled out, and Eva hopped to her feet, rubbing her eyes. She pushed the covers over the doll, hiding it in a not-very-discreet way.

  “What the heck is happening?” she demanded. “Why does it smell like wet dog in— Oh, hi, Canin.”

  “Help us, dwarf,” Canin ordered.

  “He’s not the nicest, is he?” Eva said, yawning and completely calm despite Jamie and Canin’s intrusion into her house and their agitated state.

  As he dragged the bench over, Jamie quickly explained what had happened
since he last saw Eva back at Aquarius House when the Raiff appeared in the fountain.

  “Oh,” she muttered gloomily, “when I passed out. My dad must’ve brought me back here.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you fainted, girl,” Canin declared. Exasperation seemed to make him even furrier. “Just help us secure the property.”

  Eva groaned. “That’s a sissy’s way out, that is. Hiding. Securing the property. What say you: We go out and fight those trolls? What say you: We go out and tell everyone that the mayor is being an idiot about trading Annie? Dwarfs ain’t into this hiding thing. Dwarfs rush into battle.”

  “Dwarfs are foolhardy,” Canin countered, looking through the chest of weapons.

  “Dwarfs are brave!” Eva roared.

  “Dwarfs are loud,” Jamie whispered as he hammered some boards over the small windows. Not that a troll could squeeze his or her monstrous bulk through a window, but still …

  Something thudded against the door.

  Everyone froze.

  Something knocked on the door, a tight rap-rap-rap.

  Eva’s mouth opened to say something, but Bloom clapped his hand over it. She bit him. He muffled a yell.

  “No one silences a dwarf,” she whispered, handing Jamie a massive, ancient ax. “This was my great-uncle Baron Beryl-Axe’s, the greatest of all Beryl-Axes. He killed a pirate with it. Make him proud.”

  Bloom hopped around in a circle, shaking his hand.

  “I didn’t even bite hard,” Eva scoffed.

  The knock came again—rap-rap-rap.

  “Should we answer it?” Annie whispered, pulling out the phurba.

  “Yes,” Eva whispered back as Canin simultaneously said, “No.”

  Jamie noted that Eva actually whispered, which was not a good sign. She was scared.

  Rap.

  They tightened their grasps on the handles of their weapons.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” called a high-pitched voice from beyond the door.

  “Trolls,” Canin mouthed the word.

  They raised their weapons.

  “I’m going to count to three,” called the voice, sickening sweet.

  Annie wondered if she should stop time again, but she worried about the ghosts. It seemed unfair to do it too often. Jamie’s heart thumped hard against his chest. Canin seemed to be turning more wolflike. Fur sprouted out of his cheeks, and his shoulders seemed broader, more muscular.

  “One …,” called the voice.

  “What do we do?” asked Bloom.

  “Stand our ground,” Eva answered.

  “Everybody hide,” Canin ordered as his fingernails lengthened into claws.

  “Two …,” the voice sang.

  “It’s too late to hide,” Eva said. “And dwarfs don’t hide.”

  “I want you to hide!” Canin snarled.

  But it was too late. Jamie, Annie, and Bloom knew Eva was right.

  “Three!”

  And the door burst open.

  7

  Mini Magic

  Eva had a tendency to pass out when presented with trolls, but she must have been getting braver because she didn’t even sway when the trolls bashed down the door to her home. In the seconds that followed the splintering of the wood, Eva pretty much stayed stock still, surveying everything. Only her nostrils flared. Jamie had never seen her still before—except when she fainted.

  “Hide!” Annie yelled, scuttling beneath a bed, but it was far too late.

  “You dare enter a dwarf home?” Eva raged. “You dare ruin the door that my ancestor built out of the sacred trees of Ag—”

  “Dwarfs. So talky-talky,” muttered a troll, ducking to fit into the room. “My ancestor did this. My ax did that. Blah. Blah. Blah.”

  “And they taste awful,” said another, smooshing her huge body through the gaping hole that was once a door.

  “We taste fantastic,” Eva boasted and then thought better of it. “Not that I would know …”

  Jamie pulled at Eva’s overalls. “Eva, is there any way to get out of here?”

  “We stand and fight, Jamie.” Eva glared at him.

  Canin growled. He’d transformed completely again, no longer a man at all, but a huge gray wolf with glowing yellow eyes and canine teeth that seemed as long as Jamie’s forearm. He took a step away as Canin’s back legs tensed and ears flattened against his skull. Bloom whipped out his bow and an arrow.

  “Great. Canin’s going to have all the fun,” Eva muttered just as the wolf flew through the air, flinging himself against the lead troll’s chest. He hit him dead center, and the troll wavered a bit, flailing his arms, knocking over assorted pictures off the wall.

  “No! You will NOT disrespect the great Beryl-Axe that way!” Eva roared, lunging forward and attacking the troll’s shins. She wasn’t tall enough to reach anything else.

  The three of them toppled to the floor in a snarling, frantic mess even as Bloom shot an arrow at the other troll. It bounced off his chest. Annie crawled out from under the bed and started attacking the nearest troll’s feet.

  I have to do something, Jamie thought, but what?

  His weapon felt wrong in his hands. No. He didn’t have to use the ax even if Eva had given it to him. He dropped it on the floor.

  “Eva! Canin! Bloom!” he bellowed. “Stand back! Annie!”

  None of them moved away from the trolls.

  “Taste my ax, you mean face of boogerness!” Eva yelled despite the fact that the troll had grabbed her in his fist and she couldn’t actually swing her ax, or move her arms, or do anything but dangle there as the troll used that same fist to try to punch at Canin’s rapidly attacking body. Another fist grabbed up Bloom. Annie stabbed at the troll’s toes. He complained of the tickling, but otherwise didn’t seem to pay attention.

  Canin darted out of the way of the fist, knocking over a table.

  “Not the Table of Awesomeness! Agh … you broke the leg!” Eva hollered.

  “I’ll be breaking your legs in a minute,” the first troll said. “Puke-o-rama,” he addressed the girl troll, “are you going to help me or just stand there watching?”

  “It so funny, though. Little dwarf in your hand. Blondie elf in the other. Crazy wolf going all over the place, and little girl tickling your toes,” Puke-o-rama said, smiling a ghoulish smile full of grayish-green teeth.

  “I AM NOT FUNNY!” Eva roared. “Jamie! A little help here.”

  “I’m trying,” Jamie said, remembering the magic vial in his pocket. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but judging how the contents were sparkling and purple, he figured it was some kind of enchantment.

  “I crushy crush you, dwarf. You talk too much.” The troll kicked Canin out of the way and began to squeeze Eva’s stout form in his even stouter fingers.

  “JAMIE!”

  Canin whimpered in the corner and leaped back toward the troll, biting at his legs.

  “I’m trying!” Jamie pried at the cork in the top of the vial.

  “Why are you playing with that? Oh my unicorn pickle turds. You dropped your ax! GET YOUR WEAPON!” Eva demanded, but her voice fell into a pained squeak. She gasped. “Dwarfs do not squeak,” she squeaked.

  “I make dwarfs squeak and cry, and then I eat them,” the troll said. “Even though you taste gross.”

  “We. Do. Not. Taste. Gross,” Eva insisted, trying to kick him. He held her above his head and opened his mouth.

  “NO!” Bloom yelled, twisting in the other hand, trying to escape.

  Annie gave up stabbing and tried to push the troll over. He didn’t budge.

  “You need to share,” Puke-o-rama said. “I get half.”

  “You can have the wolf or the boy.”

  “Boy. Wolves are too furry. It gets stuck in my teeth,” she said. “Want tickling girl, too.”

  Eva was now directly above the troll’s open mouth. Her eyes bulged.

  The cork popped out of the vial. A large purple mist began to stream out of the tube as J
amie hurtled the tube at the trolls.

  The mist twirled and twisted into the face of a hag and screeched out the word “SMALLER” just as it hit the trolls and engulfed them.

  Poof!

  They were gone.

  And so were Eva and Canin.

  And so were Annie and Bloom.

  The mist evaporated. Jamie stood alone among splintered furniture, scattered weapons, and barren floorboards. Jamie staggered against the far wall, tripping on abandoned weapons. His breath came out ragged.

  “Eva?” he whispered.

  Nothing.

  “Canin?” he whispered. “Annie? Bloom?”

  Had he killed them? The world spun. His hand went to his eyes. He couldn’t have killed them, could he? No … no … Panicked, he uncovered his eyes and dropped the vial on the ground. It shattered. “Oh no … Oh no … Oh no …”

  Something touched his foot and climbed right up onto his shoe. It was a wolf, a tiny wolf that looked exactly like … no, it couldn’t be …

  “Canin?” Jamie asked, gently picking up the wolf and holding it in the palm of his hand.

  The wolf growled.

  “Oh, you are definitely Canin.” Jamie cringed. “That means …” He put Canin on the mantel of the fireplace where it seemed Canin would be safe. Being careful not to step on anyone, Jamie began searching the room for the others. Over by the door, he found the two trolls, angrily bashing their heads against each other.

  “Too small. Your fault,” said the male one.

  “No. Yours.” Puke-o-rama bashed him with a splinter.

  “Enough!” Jamie snatched them both up and plopped them into a KISS ME, I AM DWARFISH earthen mug, which caused them both to start swearing at him and his ancestors as they tried to break the mug with their heads.

  “That has got to hurt,” Jamie said to Canin. Canin woofed, which Jamie figured meant he agreed. He sighed and moved the mug over to a shelf. “Now, where are Annie and Bloom and Eva?”

  Jamie had moved one step away from the shelf when a cracking noise froze him in place. A sharp pain pierced his ankle. Grunting, he staggered backward. Something below him gave a battle whoop, and the pain happened all over again.

  Jamie hopped up onto his other foot, knocking against the shelf and smashing it off the wall. Trinkets, medals of glory, chunks of gold, and the mug the trolls were trapped in tumbled to the ground. Finally, the pain abated enough for him to look for the cause. A toothpick. Someone had stabbed him in the ankle with a toothpick. No, not someone. Eva.