Her Troll Defender (Beastly Falls)

Chapter 8

Jasmine

T he greenhouse is empty. I’m not comfortable walking through his house to look for him, but I open the screen door and holler inside. No answer. Well, he must be in the forest, right?

Whereas my job in the forest was mostly blazing my own path, I can see that there are well-trod paths crisscrossing through the forest where Loth makes his way back and forth. I follow one, then another, then another. Sweaty and feeling slightly defeated, I follow the gurgling sounds of the river to put my feet in and get a different perspective.

Feet on the muddy bank, I look to my left and right. The leaf canopy is thick here, and I know Loth likes that. I noticed yesterday how he stuck to the shadows of the trees on our walk to and through town. And with the realization that he would turn to stone, I suppose the sunlight interacts negatively with his skin. Scenes from The Hobbit flit through my mind of three big trolls being tricked and turning to stone. Though Loth is nothing like them, I suppose the fiction has some attributes of truth to it.

Loth’s home, and the bridge that runs overtop it, that carried me here, is to my right. To my left, the river is narrower and shallower. And in front of me on the other side of the river, is a giant, gnarly oak tree. My heart skips a beat. My stomach clenches. That’s the tree from my dream. Loth’s tree. Quickly, I kick my sandals off, make my way down the bank, and splash into the water to wade across to the other side. For late summer, the river feels chilled. It’s probably refreshing, but that doesn’t register with me. There’s something about that tree—I need to get there. The other side of the riverbank is slippery with wet mud. I claw my way up using my hands, not fussing about the mud or thinking about the stains it’s leaving on my new clothes.

Once my feet touch the exposed roots of the tree and I stand under its canopy, the forest feels still, silent. Nothing like my dream. Carefully, I walk up to the tree and rest a hand on the trunk, near where Loth had his hand. I close my eyes.

“Spirit of Beastly Falls. This is the one and only time I want to talk to you.” Anger fills me at this ridiculousness. It’s like when I prayed to all the gods I could think of to make my mom better. I visited every chapel, mosque, and synagogue in town, trying to pray prayers, ask for guidance, for healing for Mom. None came. It left me with an emptiness that still haunts me.

“Your anger is misguided.” The voice says. The air changes. Eyes open, there’s a mist all around me. Is that the Spirit? “You have the power to decide. You stay with your fated mate and make a life in Beastly Falls. Or you leave and finish your life from before.”

“You’re playing games with these monsters, the citizens of Beastly Falls. It isn’t right.”

“The history of the town caused the curse. You were informed of the legend, yes?” I sigh. I remember Sylvia telling me. Those brokenhearted people, not allowed to love who they loved. “I’ve created a haven for them. I’m not playing games with anyone.” The voice almost sounds offended. Great job, Jasmine, piss off the spirit of the town. Close my eyes again, try to still my mind and find a sliver of peace inside me. We stay like that for what feels like a long time—the mist, the oak, and me.

“I choose life.” I open my eyes and remove my hand from the tree; I’m done speaking with this spirit. The mist dissipates, and I’m left drippy wet and cold under the gnarly oak tree.

Thunder sounds from behind me, and when I turn to look at the storm that must be headed for me, all I see is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen running full speed toward me.

Loth. My fated mate.