Shelf-Made Man

Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

A unt Virginia didn’t have rope, exactly. But she did have drapery tie-back cords, which made an excellent substitute and looked impressive when knotted around Alfie’s wrists. They were strong, too, and it would have been impossible for Alfie to escape if Tobias had used regular knots. However, for a short period in his early teens, Tobias had been fascinated by stage magic—which might have been an early clue about his origins—and had learned escape knots. They appeared sturdy enough but could be easily loosened with well-placed tugs.

Once Alfie was bound, Tobias made a few showy tears to Alfie’s clothing. Nothing that would expose too much skin, but enough to give the impression that Alfie had been in a scuffle. He also messed up that soft blond hair.

“You could clout me a couple of times,” Alfie suggested. “Give me a black eye and a split lip.”

“I will not ! ”

“It would add to the realism.”

“Don’t care. I’m already going to have to drag you around and treat you like shit. That’s bad enough.”

Alfie shrugged and dropped the subject.

The longer they stayed, the harder it was going to be to leave. Tobias settled a hand on Alfie’s shoulder, Alfie looked up at him with a brave smile… and Tobias realized he had no clue what to do next. “How do I actually leave?”

“I don’t know. I can’t do it myself, and when the wizard transferred me I was not aware of my surroundings.”

Great. It wouldn’t do much good to Google it, Tobias guessed, and Aunt Virginia didn’t appear able to add any advice. However, he’d figured out the tracking thing on his own, so maybe he could do the same now.

As he had done in the mountains, Tobias cleared his mind and pictured a computer screen. It was blank until two windows appeared. They didn’t contain anything at first, but within a few moments one screen showed Aunt Virginia’s parlor with three figures standing inside. It was lo-res, like game graphics from the 80s, but the figures were recognizable as Tobias, Alfie, and Aunt Virginia.

The other screen, fuzzy at first, clarified slightly to reveal a wide hallway with stone walls—the type of hallway one might find in a palace, he supposed. He’d never been in a palace before, although he’d seen them on TV and in movies. This screen contained four figures, all of them bulky like Tobias. Trolls, presumably.

What he needed to do was move himself and Alfie from one window to the other. If life were computer programs and people were data, he’d accomplish this by cutting and pasting. So in his mind’s eye, he highlighted his figure and Alfie’s. Before he took the next step, he smiled at Aunt Virginia and squeezed Alfie’s shoulder. “Ready?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Hang on.”

Tobias imagined typing Control+X.

The ground fell out beneath them, sickeningly, like one of those drop-tower rides at an amusement park. Alfie yelped, but Tobias managed to maintain a grip on his shoulder. Aside from the two of them, there was… nothing. No light, no sounds, no sensations. They could have been in a vast starless sky or deep in a bottomless pit. It was cold and terrifying—far worse that the prospect of fighting trolls and elves.

So Tobias focused again, this time mentally typing Control+V.

He and Alfie landed with a thump onto a stone floor.

Alfie collapsed at once, moaning, and Tobias didn’t know whether he was truly hurt or putting on a show for anyone watching. In any case, at least he hadn’t turned into a doll. Tobias kept his feet, not at all disoriented or unsteady. In fact, something about the atmosphere embraced him, making him feel instantly at home.

Several very large people ran at him, their faces set in grimaces and their hands clutching knives. Tobias stood firm, straddling Alfie’s huddled form. It took absolutely no effort to snarl possessively. “He’s mine!” Tobias growled.

The trolls skidded to a halt, but they didn’t sheathe their weapons. It was weird to be surrounded by so many people his own size. But even though his heart thudded, he wasn’t afraid. A part of him was cheering, was hoping he’d have the opportunity to hit these thugs, to kick them, to tear at their flesh with his fingernails, to bite?—

Okay. That part of him really needed to chill out a bit.

“Who are you?” shouted the biggest troll, taller and heavier than Tobias. With his leather pants and tunic, as well as a giant snarl of hair that appeared to have never encountered a comb, he looked as if he belonged to a medieval motorcycle gang. Tobias could smell his breath from several feet away.

“I am Tobias.” A single name felt like the way to go here, like Pink or Cher.

“We don’t know you.”

Tobias went with the absolute truth. “I’m from the Kingdom of the Twisted River. I’ve transferred Prince Alfred back from the other world, and I intend to present him to Snjokarl. I suggest you get out of my fucking way.” The swear word was a nice touch, he thought.

The trolls ratcheted down their antagonism a notch or two. “We’ll take him,” the biggest one said.

“The hell you will. He’s mine!”

Tobias had never felt possessive over anyone before. Truth be told, he hadn’t really had a chance. But now that he was married to someone he loved, Tobias felt like a dragon guarding his hoard of gold. Trolls were, he suspected, not great at sharing. No wonder his mother had spent so much time emphasizing the importance of letting others play with his favorite toys.

For his part, Alfie still hadn’t moved, which was worrying but also probably a good thing. This way the trolls kept their focus on Tobias.

He watched as they exchanged glances. It occurred to him that they might not be used to having anyone oppose them. They seemed uncertain how to react, and he decided to use this to his advantage. “Take me to your leader!” he roared with a crazed grin. He’d always wanted to say that.

After a moment, the head troll mumbled something that sounded like agreement. Tobias bent and hauled Alfie to his feet, trying to appear rough but actually be gentle about it. He wished he could comfort Alfie, who stood with head bowed and shoulders tense, shaking slightly. Being inside these walls again must be terrifying .

The trolls surrounded Tobias and Alfie, two in front and two behind, but whenever one of them got too close, Tobias growled and they moved away. It was a long hallway with ceilings barely high enough for trolls. Everything was made of heavy stone blocks except for the raw timbers that provided some support overhead and the wooden doors that appeared at random intervals. There were no windows or discernible sources of light, yet everything sort of glowed.

After a few twists and turns, the parties clomped up a long flight of uneven stairs, through a set of huge double doors, and into a much nicer area. Here the floors had carpet runners, and the walls were plastered and hung with framed paintings—landscapes mostly, but also portraits of elves who, despite their Christmassy-looking clothing, seemed more grouchy than festive. All of them, essentially, grinches.

They hadn’t passed anyone on the lower level, but on this floor elves scurried around, avoiding eye contact with the trolls. None of them made any effort to help Alfie, who was flagging: stumbling over the carpets and breathing heavily. Tobias had to grasp his arm and drag him along. He hoped that he wasn’t causing additional pain.

At long last they went up another flight of stairs and down another broad corridor, stopping at a single ornately carved door guarded by an officious-looking sentry troll. “His Highness is busy,” she said. She slightly reminded Tobias of one of the concierges at Aunt Virginia’s building .

The biggest troll huffed at her. “He’ll want to know this. Tell him that the prisoner has been returned.”

Her eyes widened, and for the first time she noticed Alfie, hidden behind bigger bodies. Then her face took on a calculating expression. “I’ll take the prisoner to him.” She reached out a hand.

Tobias twisted so that he blocked her access to Alfie. “No. He’s mine.”

She glanced at the quartet of goons as if expecting help, but in Tobias’s estimation, they looked a little smug, as if pleased that someone else was having to deal with the rude newcomer. So she shrugged and stepped back. “His Highness is still awfully angry that somebody let the prisoner escape.”

“Nobody let him escape,” said the big guy. “It was that wizard’s fault. And you know what happened to him .” All of the trolls laughed nastily, as Alfie stiffened and Tobias’s stomach clenched. What had Snjokarl done to Olve?

Before Tobias could think of a way to ask, Alfie spoke up. “Listen to you. Have you no pride or dignity? You follow Snjokarl blindly. You choose to be nothing more than vile murderers when you could be so much better.”

“We haven’t murdered anyone,” protested a troll with poorly braided red hair.

“And what do you suppose your master will do to me?”

The redhead shrugged. “More torture, I guess. Like with the wizard. Although honestly, I think death is better.”

Did that mean Olve was still alive? If so, how long had he been suffering in Snjokarl’s clutches? Tobias was shaky on the relationship between timelines in the two worlds.

It appeared that these trolls were prepared to argue with Alfie all day. Maybe they were procrastinating on presenting him to Snjokarl. Tobias took a few deep breaths, channeled all the fierceness he’d kept locked down for his entire life, and roared. “Take me to your goddamn leader!”

To his immense gratification, all five trolls fell back a step or two. The biggest one looked at the sentry and huffed, “They’re all yours,” then turned on his heel and marched off, followed by his buddies.

The sentry was not happy. “Follow me,” she muttered. “And make sure that prisoner behaves himself.”

“He’s an elf, not a trained dog.”

“He’s a traitor and can’t be trusted.”

Defending Alfie wasn’t wise right now, so Tobias kept his mouth shut. But if he managed to survive his meeting with Snjokarl, he’d make sure to set the record straight for this troll and everyone else.

She knocked on the door so hard that it rattled in the frame, then took a deep breath and swung it open.

“What?” came a peeved-sounding voice from inside.

“There’s a troll here, Your Highness, and?— ”

“There are a lot of trolls here. The palace is infested with them.”

“This one has brought you Prince Alfred.”

“Bring him here!”

Alfie was shaking again, and Tobias had to drag him into the room. He felt rotten about it, which didn’t improve his mood any. To the extent he’d considered it at all, he’d expected an evil lair filled with skulls and ropes and torture devices. Or maybe, since this guy was a prince, a room dripping with jewels and silks and golden everything. What he got was… an office. A large but not especially fancy one, with several bookshelves and cabinets and an immense wooden desk piled with papers and scrolls. The furniture looked old and well-used, the woven rugs were threadbare, and nothing hung on the walls. The two windows, unadorned by curtains, were streaked with dirt. Dust bunnies lurked in corners and cobwebs clung to the ceiling.

Several trolls also lurked in the corners, each of them armed with a heavy sword and looking as threatening as motionless beings could.

Snjokarl himself was unimpressive, standing beside the desk and wearing a neutral expression. Like Alfie, he was slender and delicately built, his hair tucked behind his pointed ears. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was blandly handsome, although his lavender eyes were pretty. His tunic and hose were in muted browns and grays.

“You’re not one of mine,” he said to Tobias.

“I’m from the Kingdom of the Twisted River. ”

“Hmm.” Snjokarl tilted his head quizzically. “How did you get him into your possession?”

“I found him. Heard you were searching for him.” Both of which were generally true statements.

“ Where did you find him?”

Tobias was considering the best way to answer this, as well as the best way to get his hands on Snjokarl, who was well out of reach. Then Alfie spoke. “You are nothing but a coward who uses brutes to further your perversions. Let me go, you filthy bastard.”

Snjokarl completely ignored Alfie. “Well, where was he? And what sort of reward were you expecting?”

Again, Tobias didn’t know how to respond. “How much will you give me for him?”

“You’re not thinking you can negotiate with me, are you?” Snjokarl sighed. “You cannot walk out of here with him—a hundred trolls will stop you if I tell them to. But I’d prefer to avoid needless conflict. Would you like me to employ you? That would be suitable reward.” He waved a hand around, indicating all the guard trolls, as if they were a good example of the joys Tobias could expect.

Tobias hadn’t come in search of a job offer, and especially not a shitty one. If he accepted, however, maybe he could track down what had happened to Olve. Except that while he was busy doing so, Alfie would be subjected to torture, and there was no way Tobias would stand for that .

He really should have spent a little more time on this plan. Well, he couldn’t back out now.

“I want money,” he rumbled. “A lot of it.” He stomped closer to Snjokarl, who didn’t look at all alarmed. All of the trolls, however, reacted by raising their swords and moving closer.

“Did Queen Carola send you? What does she want?”

“Nobody sent me,” replied Tobias, who had no idea who Queen Carola was.

“Well, I don’t believe you’re in search of a monetary reward. I’ve never known a troll who cared much about wealth.”

That was mildly interesting because Tobias himself didn’t crave much money as long as he could live reasonably comfortably. But he’d always assumed he’d learned that attitude from his mother, who never had much interest in material goods. However, now wasn’t the time for a nature/nurture debate. “I don’t give a fuck what other trolls want. I want money.”

“You intrigue me. Hand the prisoner over to my guards and you and I can have a chat.”

The guards came closer and Tobias bared his teeth. “None of them are touching him.”

“Look. This is all quite amusing, but I have work to do, and the prisoner needs to be returned to where he belongs. He and I have some catching up to do.” Something glinted in Snjokarl’s eyes, and it wasn’t holiday cheer. Alfie shivered violently .

“Why do you want him so badly anyway?” Tobias demanded.

“What business is that of yours? I don’t need a reason, other than the fact that possessing him pleases me.”

Tobias wasn’t experienced in understanding elf psyches. If a human had been acting exactly like this, however, Tobias would have concluded that the guy was dangerous as hell and not of sound mind. A psychopath, maybe. There was no real reason to assume that elves were any different in this regard. It was clear, in any case, that Tobias wouldn’t be able to talk Snjokarl into abandoning Alfie.

And while Tobias was ruminating over this, the trolls inched closer. One word from their master and they’d undoubtedly attack. The only reason they hadn’t already was that Snjokarl would be angry if Alfie got sliced and diced, thereby depriving him of his toy.

Snjokarl smirked.

Rage descended on Tobias so suddenly and so fiercely, that it was as if he’d leapt into a fire. He literally saw red. How dare this insufferable prick harm Tobias’s beloved! And it wasn’t just Snjokarl he was furious at. It was all of the trolls. And, for that matter, every human who’d ever said cruel words to him because he was big and awkward and different.

Tobias bellowed and launched himself at Snjokarl.

It felt wonderful to lay into that miserable excuse for an elf. To feel fists meet with flesh and to wrap hands around that scrawny neck. To listen to his choked cries and see him jerk fruitlessly as he tried to get away. His eyes widened with terror, and that was good too.

The other trolls came at Tobias with swords raised, and Tobias didn’t even care. Let them kill him—at least he’d end Snjokarl first. He’d tear him to pieces. He’d gouge out his eyes and bite out his throat and?—

“Stop!”

At the sound of Alfie’s shout, Tobias froze, as did all the other trolls. Even Snjokarl stopped struggling. Alfie had unbound his hands and grabbed a letter opener off the desk. He stood straight-backed and regal, without any sign of fear. “All of you—sheathe your weapons and fall back, or my troll will destroy your master!”

After a moment’s hesitation, the trolls obeyed. Tobias didn’t blame them; it would have been hard to ignore Alfie’s commanding tone.

“Tobias, let him breathe. But don’t let him go.”

Oh. Right. Tobias was still strangling an elf.

He loosened his grip enough for Snjokarl to take several huge gasps. “How dare you! I am a prince and you are nothing but?—”

“Shut up,” Alfie snapped. “I’m a prince too, remember? That didn’t stop you from….” He shuddered and then regained his composure.

“The King of the Kingdom of Five Sisters has disowned you and declared you an outlaw,” Snjokarl spat. “You are prince of nothing. You are nothing.”

Alfie maintained a stoic expression, but when Tobias saw hurt flash in his eyes, he gave Snjokarl a good shake. He thought about continuing to strangle him—it was such a satisfying activity—but Alfie gave a slight movement of the head and Tobias reluctantly desisted.

“I could snap his neck,” Tobias offered helpfully. “Or yank out his tongue. Or both.”

Alfie walked closer and set a gentle hand on Tobias’s back. “Is that really what you want to do?”

“Yes. No. I don’t….” He remembered his mother’s lessons and wondered what she would have advised him to do in this situation. Yes, Snjokarl was smaller and weaker, but he was hardly blameless, and he had a small army of trolls backing him up. Nonviolence was all well and good in principle, but did it always hold up in practice?

Alfie went up on his toes so he could whisper in his ear. “Can you transfer all three of us?”

Tobias opened his mouth to say that was a good idea and to ask where to?—

And the doors burst open, a flood of armed trolls surging toward them.

Acting mostly on instinct, he mentally highlighted himself and the two elves, cut… and pasted.