Shelf-Made Man

Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

T obias’s ears discerned a conversation before he could make his eyes focus or get the rest of his body to do anything useful.

“—sorry. I didn’t…. I couldn’t trust….”

“You’re not to blame,” said a second voice. Alfie. That was Alfie speaking, and just hearing him was a relief, although Tobias couldn’t quite remember why. “I was the one who foolishly thought Snjokarl would keep his word.”

Tobias growled slightly and felt a cool hand stroke his cheek. “Shh,” said Alfie. “You should lie still.”

Tobias didn’t want to lie still. He wanted to plunge his fist into Snjokarl’s chest and yank out his beating heart. He wanted to hear Snjokarl scream and watch the life fade in his eyes. He wanted?—

Where the hell was he?

It took several minutes to corral his thoughts into anything coherent and get his bearings. He was lying on his back on a hard floor, his head pillowed in Alfie’s lap, Alfie’s fingers gently combing his hair. His head hurt, his stomach was queasy, and even the slightest movement made things worse. The light was too bright even through closed eyelids.

“Alfie?” he managed. “Where…?”

“We’re in Olve’s cell. You got bashed in the skull and probably have a concussion. Usually I’d be able to work some healing magic on you, but not here. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” Alfie sighed loudly.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. After the troll knocked you out, she picked me up and threw me in the cell with you two and then closed the door.”

Tobias allowed himself to sort through these words until he understood them. His brain was like a very bad car, stuck in first gear and with the engine misfiring. Eventually he got it. “You’re a prisoner again!” he groaned.

“We all are. I’m sorry. It’s all?—”

“Stop it. This is Snjokarl’s fault, not yours.”

Alfie didn’t answer, but he did sigh again.

Moving very slowly over a few minutes, Tobias managed to sit up without puking. He patted the back of his head. Even a gentle touch was painful, but he didn’t feel any fresh or dried blood, which he figured was good news.

“Tobias, maybe you shouldn’t be upright.”

“I’m okay. Just give me a few.”

Alfie respected his request, although he did settle a steadying hand on Tobias’s arm. After a bit more time passed, Tobias was finally able to open his eyes and blink away most of the fuzziness.

Olve was still huddled on the bench and looking miserable. He wore filthy rags and had a tatty blanket around his shoulders. He was almost skeletal, his face and chest mottled with bruises and scrapes, but he was also much younger than Tobias expected. Upon consideration, however, he realized that made sense. Aunt Virginia had been in her early twenties when she married Olve—and when Olve disappeared. Time obviously moved differently in the two worlds.

“I don’t suppose I can transfer us all out of here?” Tobias asked.

Both Olve and Alfie shook their heads. “You can try if you like,” said Alfie. “But the magic-proofing….”

“I get it.” And he did. Yet he tried anyway, just in case. Nothing happened. It was frustrating. He’d gone his entire life unaware that he possessed this talent, but now that he’d used it a couple of times, it was a comfortable fit. Now, it was as if he’d broken in a particularly nice hoodie only to have it taken away.

Although moving wasn’t fun, Tobias repositioned himself so he was leaning back against the wall. “Is he going to kill us?”

“Not right away. And I don’t think he’ll simply abandon us here to rot. He’ll want to… play.” Alfie shuddered and so did Olve.

“How long have you been here?” Tobias asked Olve.

“No idea. Sometimes it stays light for what feels like months. Sometimes it stays dark. I… I’ve lost time.” Then he blinked a few times and his eyes grew more focused. “You mentioned Virginia. Is she still…? It’s been so long.” He seemed to hold his breath waiting for an answer.

“She’s elderly but still doing well.”

“Has she…. Has her life been happy?”

Tobias gave a comforting smile. “It has. I know she misses you—she speaks of you sometimes—but she’s had so many adventures.”

For the first time, Olve looked a little less despondent. “Good. She’s a remarkable person. And from the looks of things, she made sure you had a good family.”

“She did. I couldn’t have hoped for a better mother.”

“And how did you and Prince Alfred become acquainted?”

They had nothing else to do, and storytelling would distract all of them for a bit, so Tobias and Alfie told their tales. It was good to see Olve perk up when he learned how much good he had done for both of them, and that they’d ended up in love. At the end, though, he shook his head sadly. “You could have killed Snjokarl and gone on with your lives instead of getting stuck here with me.”

Alfie looked offended. “Do you think we could abandon you, knowing what you’ve done for us and knowing how much you mean to the countess?”

“My apologies. You are both fine and honorable men.”

That was nice to hear, although it didn’t solve any of their problems. “Olve, how did you end up here?” Tobias asked.

“My story isn’t as happy as yours—although I suppose we all have the same ending.”

Olve talked for a long time, and neither Tobias nor Alfie was inclined to stop him. For one thing, they had nothing else to do but listen, and for another, being entertained was better than wallowing in misery. Also, it had likely been ages since Olve had experienced the opportunity to speak with anyone who wasn’t imprisoning or torturing him.

But Tobias’s head ached and his attention wandered, so he mostly caught just the major events: Olve had heard of Alfie’s fate and tried to help. His magic skills were moderate, which is why Alfie didn’t quite transfer successfully and Olve couldn’t un-doll him. Olve had returned to his home world in hopes of getting the trolls to abandon Snjokarl’s cause, and also because he didn’t want the trolls anywhere near his beloved wife. He’d discovered an orphaned baby troll, sent him where he knew Aunt Virginia would find him, and shortly afterward was captured. He’d remained here ever since, with no hope except death.

When he finished, they were all silent for a while. At Alfie’s urging, Tobias lay back down with his head in Alfie’s lap. They both refused Olve’s offer to use what passed for his bed. Tobias drifted a bit, stomach rumbling, thinking about the dinner they’d shared with Aunt Virginia. This wasn’t how he thought he’d spend his wedding night. But then, until recently he’d doubted he’d ever marry at all.

Alfie resumed combing Tobias’s hair with his fingers, which felt lovely. He seemed pensive. Eventually, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I refuse to believe that this is the end for us.”

“But Alfie,” Olve began.

“Oh, I know. Good doesn’t always triumph over evil. Not all stories have happy endings. Terrible things happen to even the best people in both of our worlds. But still. There must be something . We have all had so much magic and wonder in our lives—I can’t believe it would all suddenly disappear.”

Tobias appreciated Alfie’s optimism but didn’t share it. Sometimes things were just shitty, and there was no rhyme nor reason to it. Very few people led a truly charmed life.

“I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt either of you,” he promised.

Olve gave a sad smile. “You did turn out magnificently, didn’t you? Everyone says such terrible things about trolls, yet they overlook the fact that most trolls simply want to keep to themselves and mind their own business.” He sighed. “But fighting will do nothing but get you hurt. There are so many of them.”

“I’m going to get hurt anyway. Might as well make at least one or two of them sorry they messed with us.”

He closed his eyes and, lulled by Alfie’s fingers, drifted into sleep.

The floor was hard, the lights too bright, and nobody brought food, which left the three of them hungry, desolate, and crammed into a small cell. At least water and a toilet were available, for which Tobias was grateful. His skull was still tender, but the nausea, dizziness, and fuzzy-headedness had subsided.

He knew that as unhappy as the situation was for him, it was worse for his companions, both of whom had been tortured here. And while Tobias had plenty of padding to sustain him for a while, Alfie was much thinner, and Olve was emaciated.

Olve and Alfie were good company, however. Olve was happy to share stories about Aunt Virginia, about his own adventures, and about how he’d found Tobias. They both taught him a lot about their world, and in turn, they asked about the world he’d lived in.

“I wish I could see this operate,” said Olve, cradling Tobias’s cell phone in one hand. Nobody had bothered to empty Tobias’s pockets before locking him up, but the phone was useless. Either the battery was dead or Apple products didn’t work here.

“It’s due to the magic-proofing,” Alfie said confidently.

“But cell phones aren’t magic. They use electricity, microchips, radio waves…. It’s all just physics.”

“Perhaps magic is physics as well.”

Olve perked up. “That’s an interesting idea. We can’t generally see electricity or radio waves, but various devices can channel them in different ways. Magic could exist as an unseen force that is used in some ways by wizards, in others by trolls…. I so wish I had the chance to explore this! I would set up experiments, you see….” He chewed his lip, his mind clearly zooming through the possibilities.

Tobias thought about the different types of software he might modify to help with those kinds of experiments. The data would be fascinating to analyze.

“I’d start by magic-proofing a room,” Olve said thoughtfully. “Although I daresay I’d make it more comfortable than this one. Tobias, can a room be made impermeable to the forces that make a phone operate?”

“Sure. Anything that’s dense enough will work. I’ve had clients that couldn’t use wi-fi in their offices because of what was in the walls. They had to use hard-wired connections instead.”

Both Olve and Alfie stared blankly, and then Olve returned to his thoughts. Tobias’s poor brain was ticking along too. “Hey,” he asked them, remembering his question from before he lost consciousness. “How does a room get magic-proofed?”

They looked at each other as if each expected the other to have an answer. But then Alfie simply shrugged. “It’s not something I’ve ever had interest in doing. In our castle we primarily used healing magic, and why would anyone want to block that?”

Olve rubbed his chin. “My apprenticeship ended too early and I never learned that, or a great number of other things that would have proved useful. Such as how to successfully transfer an elf without transforming him into an inanimate object.”

Alfie reached over and patted Olve’s foot, clearly wanting to show that he held no grudge.

Tobias, however, frowned in thought. Apparently Snjokarl had magic-proofed only this cell and not the rest of the palace, since Tobias had been able to use his tracking and transferring skills in other areas. It implied that magic-proofing required a physical space, and perhaps a limited one at that. What if it really was the same as blocking radio waves?

Tobias stood and stared at the nearest wall.

Alfie stood too and put a hand on Tobias’s back. “Beloved? Are you all right? Is your head?—”

“I’m fine.” That came out snippier than intended, so Tobias gave him an apologetic smile. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

“Of course.” Alfie stepped back.

The wall was… unremarkable. It was made of stone, just like the rest of the palace. But unlike the white walls and floor in the fancy parts of the palace, those in the hallway where they’d first appeared and in the dungeon had been plain gray. Nobody cared whether their dungeon looked upscale. Maybe here, the white wall served a utilitarian purpose.

Tobias scratched at it, but nothing happened. For the first time in his life, he wished he had claws instead of ordinary fingernails.

Wait a minute. He was a twenty-first-century guy, not a fairytale monster. He didn’t need claws.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black nylon case.

“What’s that?” asked Alfie.

“A Leatherman multi-tool set.” Tobias removed it from the case to demonstrate. “See? It has pliers, wire strippers, a screwdriver, a knife… nineteen tools in all. Aunt Virginia sent it to me two Christmases ago. She said she thought it might come in handy for me at work. I don’t really deal with hardware stuff, but you never know. I use the bottle opener pretty often, actually. And I got in the habit of carrying it around.”

Olve was beaming. “That sounds exactly like the type of thoughtful gift Virginia would bestow.”

“But how come I still have it? And my cell phone? And….” He dug in his pockets. “And my wallet, my keys, and my ChapStick. Shouldn’t the goons have taken this stuff away before locking me up?”

Alfie looked uncomfortable. “It’s because you’re a troll, my love.”

“Huh?”

“They misjudged you—as I did myself. When people see trolls, they assume they’re capable of little more than mindless brutality. Even other trolls might assume this, because that’s the message they’ve heard for their entire lives.”

Tobias pondered this for a moment. “So if I can’t pound anyone into a pulp, they don’t see me as a threat. ”

“If you’d possessed a larger blade, I’m sure they would have taken that. But they likely didn’t recognize your… Leatherman, was it? I’m sorry their appraisal of you was so negative.”

Tobias, who wasn’t sorry at all, grinned. “People have been misjudging me for my entire life. For once, maybe that’s worked in my favor.” He opened the diamond-coated file and began to scrape at the wall.

Alfie came closer but was careful to not get in the way, and then Olve got off the bench and, on slightly tottery legs, came over to watch as well. At first nothing happened, but as Tobias pressed harder, the white coating started to wear away. It was a very thick, sort of rubbery paint, and when Tobias was able to get his fingernails under the edge of it, he peeled away a strip about the size of his arm.

There was another layer underneath it, a sickly green.

“May I see?” asked Olve.

When Tobias stepped aside, Olve reached out and touched the green spot—and drew his hand back with a hiss. “It stings.”

Both Tobias and Alfie felt a very vague tingle on contact, but nothing painful. “It’s repelling magic,” said Olve, seemingly fascinated. “Magic is a more integral part of a wizard—even a poor one like me—than of a troll or elf. Tobias, I do believe you’ve discovered how they do it.”

Alfie clapped Tobias on the back. “Well done!”

Tobias would have liked to bask in the praise, but he felt discouraged. “I think all four walls, plus the floor and ceiling, are coated in this. It’d take me forever to get it all off. We don’t have forever.”

He scraped at the green stuff and it came off, but in tiny flakes. It was like when he’d bought his house and had intended to strip the paint off the original woodwork. He’d given up after half a day and just repainted everything. Which had been fine back then, but now his life, his husband’s life, and the life of his godmother’s husband hung in the balance.

“Perhaps if even some of it is removed, our magics will work,” Olve suggested. He looked more hopeful than Tobias had seen him, and that was something—as long as Tobias didn’t crush that hope.

“Let me work at it for a bit,” said Alfie, gently prying the Leatherman from Tobias’s fingers. “I don’t think you’re fully recovered from your head injury.”

“I can?—”

“Tobias. Let me.”

In truth, Tobias’s head still ached, so he nodded and returned to what was now his usual sitting spot against the wall. Olve resumed his place on the bench, huddled under his tattered blanket, and watched. Alfie, whistling something that sounded suspiciously like “Santa Baby,” started scraping away.

He had been at it for only a few moments when there was a noise at the door.

“It’s them!” Olve hissed urgently.

Alfie reacted with inhuman speed—although maybe it was normal elf speed. He tossed the Leatherman to Tobias, who caught it and tucked it in a pocket as Alfie leaned back against the wall, hiding the peeled spot with his body.

The door heaved open and a particularly burly troll immediately blocked the opening. Tobias could just barely see two more trolls standing in the hall immediately behind him. “Traitors,” growled the first one. He flung a bulky sack onto the floor, backed out, and slammed the door shut.

After a pause to make sure he wouldn’t return, Tobias sagged with relief.

“That’s food.” Olve sounded distressed.

“Is there something wrong with it?” asked Tobias.

It was Alfie who answered. “They always feed you before he….” His throat made a choked sound. “He doesn’t want you to faint too soon.”

Okay, that was it. That. Was. Just. Fucking. It.

Tobias leapt to his feet, pulled out the Leatherman, and attacked the wall as if it were Snjokarl. He imagined scraping his blade over the smug, cruel face, tearing away the flesh until nothing was left but a pile of shattered bones. He knew this was awful imagery and probably frighteningly trollish, but at the moment he just didn’t care. His mother had told him that physical activity was a healthy way of displacing anger, and oh boy did he have a lot of anger to displace.

He didn’t know how long he worked—everything was just a red blur. But it felt like only a few minutes before he had scraped both white and green coatings away from a swath of wall almost as big as he was .

“Will magic work now?” he asked, probably too loudly. He probably looked terrifying. Olve seemed a little alarmed.

Alfie, on the other hand, was staring at him with shining eyes. “You are stunning , my love.”

As serious as the situation was, Tobias couldn’t quite suppress a pleased grin. Then, in a softer tone, he asked again, “Will it work now?”

“I’m not sure….” Olve chewed his lip. “I’m not that skilled to begin with, and?—”

“Allow me,” said Alfie. He put a gentle hand against the sore spot on Tobias’s head and hummed.

This time Tobias was sure of the tune. “Mariah Carey?”

“Shh. Let me concentrate.” Alfie resumed humming, and after a few seconds Tobias’s scalp registered an agreeable tingle accompanied by a gentle warmth. He closed his eyes and had to bite back a moan of pleasure—not sexual, more like the kind emitted during a good stretch or a perfect massage. His headache faded, along with the dizziness and brain-fuzz.

Alfie gave Tobias’s shoulder a quick kiss and stepped back. “It’s working.”

Olve muttered something that sounded like a prayer, and Tobias was tempted to join in. But they weren’t free yet. “So what should we do? I can zap all three of us out of here.”

“That will buy us some time.” Alfie looked grave. “But it won’t be a permanent solution. ”

Right. Snjokarl would have his minions track them down right away.

Tobias scratched the beard that was starting to grow and distractedly acknowledged that he really preferred to be clean-shaven. “So if Snjokarl was out of the picture, would his trolls still come after us?”

“Unlikely. Without him to boss them around, they’d just give up.”

“What about your brother?”

“The trolls have no loyalty to him. And I doubt he’d bother pursuing any of us. He wanted me gone.” Alfie gave a sad shrug.

So getting rid of Snjokarl was the solution. Honestly, Tobias had pretty much known that from the start. “Before, we were willing to just abandon him in the other world. But now I don’t trust him enough for that. I’m afraid he’d figure out a way to get back here.”

“I concur,” said Alfie. Olve nodded in agreement.

“But as much as I want to tear him to tiny shreds—and I really, really do—I’m not sure I could live with myself if I committed cold-blooded murder.”

Alfie embraced him. “We all have baser instincts. Unlike Snjokarl, you have the morals and strength of character to control yours.”

“At the moment it would be handy if I didn’t.” Tobias was also aware that he didn’t have time to be gloomy about it.

“There… might be another option,” said Olve.