Shelf-Made Man

Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

S njokarl took off running as soon as they arrived, but Alfie tackled him to the ground. When Tobias caught up with the two of them, he gently pushed Alfie to the side before sitting on Snjokarl’s back. That would make him stay put for a bit.

“Where is this?” Alfie looked around.

That was an excellent question. Tobias hadn’t had time to pay much attention to that aspect when he was transferring them.

It was nighttime and they were outside. The air was cold—although Tobias was, as usual, comfortable—and it was damp but not quite raining. They were on an expansive grass lawn with some tall trees scattered around, a street running in front, and a large brick building behind them.

“I recognize this place,” said Tobias with a degree of relief. “It’s a college near my house. ”

Beneath him, Snjokarl made a pained moan. Tobias rose but grabbed him before he could run off, keeping a tight grip on Snjokarl’s arm.

“What have you done?” snarled Snjokarl.

Alfie brushed some debris off his clothing. “We’ve been transferred.”

“It won’t save either of you. My trolls will track you down.”

Tobias realized that was probably true, and it meant that he couldn’t simply let Snjokarl loose to make his own way in the wilds of Portland. And now, back in his own world, Tobias’s taste for murder had faded, which didn’t leave many options.

Alfie looked thoughtful, however. “We are prepared to negotiate.”

“I won’t negotiate with the likes of?—”

“We could just kill you instead. Sure, your followers will find us, but that won’t bring you back to life.” Alfie finished his statement with a sunny smile. And when Snjokarl made sputtering noises but couldn’t quite manage to say anything coherent, Alfie came a little closer. “How does it feel to be alone and scared and powerless, knowing you are completely at the mercy of someone not known to be merciful? It’s not pleasant, is it?”

Snjokarl had no answer for that either.

Alfie took a few deep breaths and then looked past Snjokarl to Tobias. “What are your thoughts, beloved?”

Tobias paused to give Snjokarl a shake because he was making offended noises, apparently at the thought of an elf loving a troll. Then Tobias shrugged. “I’ll kill him if you want. He probably deserves it. But if you have another idea, I’m fine with that. Do what you think is right.”

A softness came to Alfie’s eyes before he nodded and focused again on Snjokarl. “We’ll return you to your palace—alive—and never step foot again in your kingdom or Kol’s. Under two conditions.”

“What?” Snjokarl demanded sourly.

“First, you pledge to cease persecuting me. Send nobody to search for me, and do not harm me, Tobias, or anyone we care about. Ever.”

It seemed to Tobias like a reasonable requirement. Alfie wasn’t asking Snjokarl to make up for the fact that he’d poisoned Kol against his brother, causing Alfie to lose everything. And he wasn’t requesting compensation for being tortured.

Snjokarl scowled but didn’t refuse. “What else?”

“You release the wizard Olve Lange to our custody—also permanently, and without any future repercussions to him.”

If Tobias wasn’t already in love with Alfie, that would have done the trick.

“Interesting,” said Snjokarl. “And you will not be tempted to win back your noble status, your birthright, your fortune… your home?”

“I’ve found something more valuable than any of those things.”

“What?”

“Love. Which is something you’ll never have. ”

It was a good comeback, and one with which Tobias fully agreed. But this was a terrible honeymoon. He was getting tired of standing here in the damp grass instead of snuggling in a big bed with his husband, so he gave Snjokarl another shake in hopes of speeding up his response.

“Very well,” Snjokarl said finally and with poor grace. “I shall be delighted to be rid of you for good. Rid of all of you. You’ve done nothing but cause me trouble.”

“You agree to my terms?”

“Yes. You have my word.”

Alfie nodded. “Tobias, you can let him go.”

Although Tobias was somewhat disappointed he wouldn’t get a chance to tear Snjokarl to pieces, he was also relieved he wouldn’t have to. He released his grip—more violently than necessary, perhaps—and gave Snjokarl a little shove, although not enough to knock him over.

“Where’s Olve?” demanded Alfie.

“His quarters are adjacent to where yours were.”

“That’s the lowest level of the palace, Tobias. Dungeons. Can you take us all there?”

Of course, Tobias had never been to the dungeons and had seen very little of the palace. But he concentrated, imagining that the computer screen in his head looked remarkably like one of those 3D house plans you could explore in online listings at Redfin and Zillow. Instead of a cute 1920s Craftsman bungalow with an excellent walk score, however, he pictured Snjokarl’s palace. And there on the lowest floor was a blinking red dot.

“I can see his location. Hang on.” Tobias grabbed Snjokarl again and with his other hand laced his fingers through Alfie’s. He did the routine that was already starting to feel familiar: highlight, cut, paste.

When he opened his eyes, they were in a dungeon. At least, he assumed it was.

The long corridor had a white floor, possibly marble, and smooth stone walls occasionally interrupted by metal doors. Although there was a general glow of illumination, there was no obvious light source. The far end of the hallway was a blank wall, while the nearer end contained another metal door, wider than the others. There was a faint odor of dampness, and no sounds other than the rustlings made by the three of them.

“He’s in here,” Tobias said confidently, pointing at the nearest door; unlike the others, it had a spiky symbol painted on it. He couldn’t sense anything on the other side, but his tracking ability had led him directly to the threshold.

Alfie had gone paler than usual—this place must hold terrible memories—but he didn’t back down. “That cell is magic-proof. That’s why you couldn’t transfer us straight inside.”

It also explained, Tobias assumed, why a wizard hadn’t managed to escape. How did you magic-proof a room? Was it some kind of insulation, like eggcrate foam used in sound booths? Or a lining, like lead used for x-ray protection? He’d ask about it later.

“Unlock the door,” Alfie commanded Snjokarl.

“I don’t have a key. I shall need to call a guard.”

“Do it.”

Tobias followed Snjokarl to the door at the end of the hallway and watched as he knocked a few times. “It is your master,” he called. “Open this door at once.”

He was obeyed promptly, and a pair of trolls stood in the doorway, gaping. “Your Highness! We were told you’d been kidnapped and?—”

“Yes, yes. Now come unlock the wizard’s chamber.”

One remained in the doorway while the other entered the corridor, squeezing by Tobias. The look she cast at him wasn’t friendly, and he wondered if there was any possibility he could ever have a nice chat with another troll and find out more about his birth species. It would be interesting to learn which of his quirks were troll things and which were… just him.

The troll hefted an impressively large key, worked the lock, and then pulled the door open. When Alfie hung back—who could blame him?—Tobias pushed forward to look inside.

It was a windowless space about ten feet square, with featureless white walls and floor. As in the hallway, there was a sourceless glow. The only furnishings were a toilet, a sink, and a stone bench. A man sat on the bench with his knees drawn to his chest, his back pressed into a corner. His head was deeply bowed, and all that Tobias could see was a matted mass of dark hair.

“Olve?” asked Tobias. “Olve Lange?”

The man’s only reaction was to curl more tightly into himself. It was no wonder he wasn’t reacting well—Tobias was a troll.

Tobias took a cautious step into the cell and tried again. “Um, I’m Tobias Lykke. I think you rescued me when I was a baby? The Countess—um, your wife, Virginia, is my godmother.”

Now the man did look up, eyes wide. “No. It’s a trick.”

“No, it’s not, I promise. Look, let’s just step into the hallway—Alfie’s there; you rescued him too—and I’ll get us the hell out of here.”

But Olve hid his face again. “Stop tormenting me,” he whispered.

Maybe it would be better if Alfie lured him out. Tobias started to turn around—and something hit him hard on the back of the head.