We were in a small cave of sorts, rock encasing us on all sides. Apart from the watery entrance we had come through, the only exit was a dark tunnel leading away from the water. There were no signs of treasure, gold, or of anything other than a pile of supplies and the lantern, which Luc had obviously brought on a prior occasion.
“Well,” I said, wrapping my arms around my icy body. All I had on was a shift and boots, and the damp fabric concealed uncomfortably little. I hadn’t truly expected him to answer, but Luc had always been excessively proud of himself, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he did.
“Of course, of course.” He leaned closer to me, the lamp casting shadows on his face. “It is the most incredible of things. I’d scarce believe if I hadn’t seen it myself.”
“Get to the point, Luc!”
He laughed as though something I’d said was beyond amusing. “You never did appreciate a good tale. So, fine, I’ll get straight to the point. I’ve found the lost city of Trollus.”
Silence hung between us for a long moment. I certainly hadn’t expected his motivations to have anything to do with a mythological city. “Do you think this is some sort of jest or have you lost your mind?” My voice echoed through the cavern. Mind… mind… mind… mind… We both flinched and looked about uneasily.
“The city wasn’t lost, Luc. Trollus was buried by half a mountain worth of rock.”
“Aye,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Buried, but not destroyed. At least not completely.”
“Impossible. Nothing in this world is strong enough to withstand the weight.”
“That is the best part.” He leaned closer to me. “Just like in the stories: they’ve been living here under the mountain this entire time!”
“Who?” I asked, afraid but desperately wanting to know.
Luc’s eyes reflected the orange glow of the flame, and he licked his lips, relishing the moment. “The trolls, Cécile. They’re here!”
“Fairy tales,” I whispered. “Stories told to scare naughty children.”
Luc laughed. “Oh, they’re plenty real and plenty monstrous. And happy enough for us humans to think they’re shadows in the night. Keeps people from troubling them and trying to steal their treasure.”
“Treasure.”
“Aye. Chambers heaped with gold and jewels.”
“If they dislike humans, why would they let you anywhere near their wealth?” I asked, discreetly taking stock of my surroundings. The pool lay directly behind me. If I caught Luc off guard and managed to get into the water, I might have a chance. I could hide in the trees until nightfall and then make my way to the farm, if my father didn’t find me first.
“His Majesty showed me during our… negotiations.”
“His Majesty?” With a maniacal laugh, I leaned back on the palms of my hands. The stone floor was sloped. If I threw my weight backwards, I’d roll into the water. “I didn’t realize trolls had royalty!”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “They are the ones who purchased you.”
I gasped. “For what?”
“With gold,” he said, mistaking my question.
“What do they want with me?” I whispered.
Luc shrugged. “With what they agreed to pay, they can throw you in a cooking pot for all I care.”
Because according to the fairy tales, that was what trolls did. Put you alive into a pot of boiling water and then gnawed your flesh until all that was left were bleached white bones.
I clawed my way back towards the pool, my fingernails tearing on the rocks. All I could think about was that I was being marched towards the most horrific of deaths. Nothing Luc could do to me could possibly be worse than being eaten. I struggled with single-minded purpose towards the pool, but Luc had a tight grip on my leash and I was no match for his strength. “Help!” My voice echoed off the water and the rock until it seemed I had a dozen doppelgangers, all of them taunting me with the futility of my screams.
Luc slapped me hard. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll gag you again.” One finger pointing towards the glowing lantern, he said, “Pick that up, and start walking.”
Hands numb with a cold that was far more than skin deep, I followed Luc’s order.
What I had thought would be a straight walk into the deep was anything but. Instead, a labyrinth of tunnels, crevices, and dead-ends lay beneath the mountain of stone. The floor was an uneven carpet of boulders and rocks, riddled with cracks that could break your ankle or swallow you whole. I took each step with caution, a kidnapper at my back, and the risk of a broken neck at every turn. My shift clung to my body, refusing to dry in the damp darkness and providing nothing in the way of warmth. The light from the storm lantern shivered along with me, casting strange shadows on the rock and setting my heart racing until I was convinced it would beat itself out of my chest.
At each intersection countless rough markings were carved or chalked on the stone. Some were clearly directions or warnings, but others were meaningless symbols. Logic crept past my fear, and I knew that if I had any chance of escaping, I’d need to know how to find my way.
“Who made these?” I asked, my voice seeming loud after the long silence. I kept my tone quiet and non-confrontational. Luc got his back up easily at the best of times and I needed to keep him talking.
“Treasure hunters.” Luc tapped his knife against one of the strange symbols. “Each of the pathfinders has his own mark leading the way he deems fastest. Or safest, most like,” he amended.