Chapter Two
~
She sat in her chair wedged in my direction. I worked not to study her like she studied me. Her eyes flicked, as though memorizing every feature, every pore of my face. People look at Hale and me differently, but this wasn’t like that.
I realized there was an aire of exhaustion about her. I’ve always been able to read folk well, maybe that’s why I’ve been driven to be a doctor for as long as I can remember. I asked her if she was all right. She blinked a couple times, as though interrupted formin’ a chemical equation.
“Yar empathetic?” she asked.
That struck me odd. Or creepy.
“That’s yar gift?” Wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement.
Yep. My mouth gaped open. I clopped it closed. Tried to look away from her, but found I couldn’t.
She held out her ginormous troll hand. “I’m Tie. Doctor Tie. Healer Tie.”
I took her hand. She didn’t shake mine, merely held on. After a good ten-count, it was obvious she claimed it for the time bein’. She mumbled somethin’ about “it bein’ very strong.”
“Not to be rude,” I said, “but ya’re freakin’ me out.”
After a pause she smiled. I hoped she’d let go of my hand, but she didn’t. I sensed more than a little pain resonatin’ about her. But another kind of energy pushed against it. The thought rang weird in my head. Yeah. It didn’t make any sense.
She let go of her tablet and lay that hand across our enmeshed mitts.
“I must seem a little loony,” she suggested.
I nodded.
Her smile broadened. “It’s gonna take a few moments to explain.”
I nodded, and waited. I’m good at pickin’ up anger, irritation, frustration, fear. Embarrassment more than anythin’. Those are frequent emotions I get from Hale. And Papa. I guess those on the spectrum never get comfortable in their own skins.
My point bein’, yep, empathy is a strength of mine. But I rattled-confused what washed over this troll healer.
“I’ve come across others in the Range. In my practice, I’ve tended every troll between the North and South Slopes. But never felt anyone with the touch like you.”
“Uh. Touch?”
“With the ethereal,” she said.
Whoa. What did she say? “The—the—”
“It’s believed most of them joined the majical kind who returned to the other side generations ago. Definitely not many of us left.”
“Many— Uh—”
“Ya never considered—”
“I haven’t a clue what yar talkin’ ’bout, ma’am.”
“I’m upsettin’ ya. I’m sorry. Maybe the shock meetin’ ya here sent my discretion to the winds. Ya don’t believe?”
“Believe?” That may have come out as five syllables. My cheeks warmed. Warmer than they had been.
“That ya can touch the ethereal,” she said.
Considerin’ the context, I truly knew that’s what she meant, but Hale and I weren’t raised in a home of the old beliefs. I mean, Papa holds a deep reverence for the Earth and her creatures. Talks of the gods’ blessin’s. But it isn’t like the clan dances before altars and makes sacrifices for good tidin’s.
“I know you must be aware of the witches up in the hollers,” she said.
“Witches—” I hissed. Yeah. Papa definitely dismissed the concept of witches. More a term to refer to the uneducated who live in the past.
“The term may be thrown around loosely,” she said softly. “Many who are just ardent believers are tagged with the—near pejorative.”
I nodded. “May I—have my hand back?”
Smilin’, she allowed me to pull away and my vision turned blurry, my skin tingled as though still wishing to touch the troll. I jerked, and she smiled tighter. Blinkin’ away the fog I asked her what that was.
“It’s the natural connection, that draws us together,” she said.
I shook a bit more of the daze away, and took a deep gulp of my coolin’ coffee to grasp a bit of rational space.
“This must be difficult for ya,” she suggested.
How I kept from doublin’ over in a guffaw was a testament to my mama’s respectful upbringin’. I told her it was unlikely the ethereal chose me considerin’ there’s no history of—I struggled callin’ it a talent—the ethereal in my bloodline.
“It’s true the lore implies the ability traversed from mother to daughter, father to son. But no one in my line—” She hefted her shoulder.
“But I’ve never—how old were ya when—”
“I’ve never not known,” she said. “Ya’ve never—really?”
I shook my head.
She tilted her head to the right, eyes searchin’ a world I couldn’t see. After a long pause she spoke of how the touch is more readily accepted by her people. She chuckled—what we call the vibration deep in a troll's chest. “First time I met a non-believer was at university. Since returnin’ to the mines, my people, never met a soul—” She stopped, and smiled again, her eyes in the past. “Years ago an arrogant ogre ended up in my infirmary. An autistic bull.”
My entire body shivered, temperature soared a good number of Kelvins.
~
Hale
~
“If ya ever speak of this to another, it would be devastatin’ to me, so if ya respect me at all, agree it’s between ya and me. No one else, but of course yar papa and sister.” Uncle Ike exhaled hard. “Certainly no one else in the family.”
He didn’t say clan, but it clicked, that was a given. I offered him a shrug.
He nodded. Must have been all the assurance he needed. After all, Ike is more than almost an uncle. More like an older brother. I guess, since he and Nuel were never blessed with their own passel of rug farts.
“Yar papa was behind Nuel takin’ the leadership of the Council,” he began. Seemed a bit of anger seeped out of his eyes. “For the most part she’s done an excellent job.” He glanced up as though searchin’ for the approval of the gods. “Her ties to the North eased our kind to accept the armistice, two decades ago.”
There was no good reason for him to be speakin’ these thin’s with me. Nearly a youngling still. I waited while he reloaded his thoughts.
“Not an accident that ya and yar sister were selected to represent the Hamlet in the comin’ West hoedown.”
Oh. It was all his fault. I could poke him in the eye with a pitchfork.
“Get that ire out of yar eye,” he said. “Hear me out.”
Where’s a pitchfork when ya need one?
“No one on this Earth I care about more than yar papa, but he’s a bit emotional, if ya follow me. Despite bein’ the smartest individual I’ve ever met by miles and miles. Ya’re a synapse of the same mentality, ya and yar sister.”
So here was the flattery. I didn’t look forward to the old boot landin’.
“I won’t ever manipulate ya. My intent today is to recruit ya into a long plan. It ties to ya studyin’ in the North for a year, but begins with the hoedown. For ya to lead our folk into the comin’ decades. That kind of long game.”
This was gettin’ more convoluted by the second.
“Odder than a dull owl, bein’ the clan leader but not the Range Council leader, nor the newer Greater Council leader.”
Oh, I so did not want to go where Uncle was leadin’ me. Could I somehow stop him here? I looked into the woods. Where could I find a pitchfork?
“I wasn’t two years old when the assumption that I’d be the clan wonder solidified into granite.”
He paused. “I’m not startin’ this right. Ya know how yar aunt came to be the Greater Council lead.”
As Mama often claimed, Papa demanded Ike withdraw from politics, spend his time running Ogreware and not the business of the South. Put his foot down. Had the support he needed to have Ike dumped as the Ogreware CEO and from the Ogre Industries board. And put Nuel forth for the position Ike pretty much created durin’ the short war with the North.
“I can’t go against Nuel. I care for my life.”
It was all I could do not to snort.
“And for now she’s got wide enough support it would serve no purpose—other than to ensure I wake up dead one morning. But ya know I worry about the North. In the years to come the clan has to have developed a replacement that won’t be blind to the dangers of the humans’ bigotry.”
Okay, so I was now more confused than ever. I’m a youngling. An artist. How in the world could I possibly fit into this schemin’? I’m no better a politician than Papa.
“A year livin’ in the North would set ya and yar sister in a better position than anyone livin’.”
Pretty sure my head was shakin’ hard, which explained why I began to feel a bit dizzy.
“Representin’ the Hamlet next week will be the first, little taste, for the two of ya to sense yar place in the clan.”
Ya’re an idiot. The words simmered in the front of my noggin. No idea why they didn’t cross my lips. And since when do two people represent the Greater Council leadership?
“It’s the long game. It’s the long game.”
I’m an artist. Bele is gonna be a physician.
“Ya weren’t an artist over night,” Uncle said. “Ya developed yar skills over the last two decades.”
Pretty sure he’d forgotten how old I am. Uncle has about ten thousand cousins he could choose from for this idiotic endeavor. What had I ever done in my life to give him the idea I had interest in runnin’ anythin’ besides my own studio?
He continued talkin’ but the words no longer penetrated my thoughts. I stood and tossed the dregs of my coffee into the fire, handed him his cup, and turned for the Hamlet. Uncle has lost his mind. Maybe I’d mention to Papa that his favorite cousin might not be the best person to sit at the helm of Ogreware.
As bombastic as Aunt Nuel is, I couldn’t imagine anyone else chairin’ the Greater Council. She’s been in the position my whole life.
~
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