Chapter 9
Trolls and Ogres

Forte stood at attention in front of Commander Darius as he read the report from Michele Ken. The commander’s brow was furrowed in deep thought and concentration while his eyes scanned the document. Forte could not make out the expression on the commander’s mouth beneath his face covering, but he was reasonably sure the commander’s lips were tightly pursued. The commander’s hawk-like features did not soften as he finished the report.

“Forte, I am not happy with the progress at the Terran Academy. I was hoping to be able to deploy the first of the teams by next year, but it seems Ms. Ken was expecting to have more time to train her protégés. We will have to get her to step up her training program since the Er seem to be expanding their war with the Galan Empire. The Empire expects more from us for the fees they are paying for our help even though our daemon troopers have recovered one of their planets from Er occupation. Go back to Ken and insure she understands the new timetable we have drawn up.

“On another note, a more personal note, I see your Galan girlfriend has been visiting this station. Insure that she does not make it down to the planet. It would be a horrible breach of security. Terra has to remain our secret.”

“I understand, sir, but she was assigned to this station by the Bellicose Command.”

“I know she was assigned here, but don’t let her get too curious about the planet. It should be easy since she’ll be shipping out with the Fifth Squadron in a few days.”

“The Fifth is heading for the Proxima sector, sir.”

“Indeed. There has been an Er incursion there. We hope to head them off there before they decide to come here.”

* * *

Heather awoke at midday with itchy, puffy eyes and a runny nose. “Ugh, Simon did you sleep on my bed again?” But, Simon didn’t answer her. He was fast asleep in his cat tree in the corner of her room. “Fine. I need to get my allergy pills.” The room spun a bit as she tried to get up. She steadied herself and slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She rested her face in her hands as she shook off the fog of sleep. “Ahh. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Slowly the events of the previous night filtered into her consciousness. “Simon, I owe you one. Thank you for healing me.” She looked at the clock. It read 11:59. She had missed a half day of classes. She was still dressed in her sweatshirt and fatigues, so she changed into her school uniform.

She exited her room and descended to the second floor where she found her mother in her office. “Why did you let me oversleep?”

“Where do you think you are going? Get back in bed. You were so exhausted last night that you fainted, and Jeanine had to carry you to bed. You are not going to school today. I already called them and told them you were sick.” Her mother gave her a stern look.

“Mom!”

“You are lucky I didn’t call the doctor. Now, go get some more rest.”

Heather spun on her heel and left the room. She headed down to the kitchen to fix herself a sandwich because she was famished. Whatever Simon had done to her left her incredibly hungry.

As she pulled the fixings for a sandwich out of the fridge, she noticed a parchment envelope laying on the countertop addressed to her. She looked at it with interest as she made her ham sandwich. She noted that the return address was from that monastery in France she had recovered at many years ago. She put her sandwich on a plate and grabbed a soda.

She carried her lunch into the living room where she ate her sandwich with considerable slowness. She was mulling over the letter in her mind. It had to be from her old mentor Friar Justinian, but what would he want with her after all these years? She had no idea. By the time she had finished her meal, she had decided it was time to open the letter and find out what he wanted.

She put her plate in the sink and seized the letter. The parchment envelope was slick in her hands. She carried it down to her basement lair. She removed her uniform, hung it neatly on a hanger, and slipped into her robe which was adorned with solar symbols.

She raised her arms, closed her eyes, and intoned a few choice words as she imagined a sunny tropical beach. When she opened her eyes the image of the beach remained complete with roaring surf and the sounds of seabirds. She enjoyed the feel of the illusionary sun on her face before she sat in her overstuffed recliner and turned her attention to the letter.

She broke her master’s seal on the envelope and took out the letter. It was a short note on a single piece of paper.

In the finest calligraphy, it read:

Carissami Noctua,

I hope this note finds you well. I am planning a trip to the states next month; I would like to visit you during my trip. Please prepare yourself for my arrival. I expect to see you on the first of December.

Heather was disappointed at the brevity of the letter but thrilled with the idea of seeing her old teacher again. She was concerned when she read she was supposed to prepare herself. What could he have meant? She decided to look at the letter for a deeper meaning. She unfocused her eyes and let the text float across the page.

Suddenly, she could feel the magick pulsing through the paper. A second message took shape under the first. This note was longer than the first, and it warned her that he would be coming to test her progress and part of the test was to create a magickal gateway through which he would arrive.

The letter included the runes she would have to inscribe to fashion the gateway along with detailed instructions on how to imbue those runes with the proper magick. Each rune, of which there were twelve, would take two hours to properly finish.

She placed the letter in The Book of Light, and she was surprised when it fused itself with the book. When she closed the well worn cover and opened it again to search for another spell, she noticed the book fell open to the new page. This happened every time she tried it. She sighed, took up a piece of chalk, and chose the wall to the right of her. Upon that wall she outlined a large rectangle to represent the gateway.

She spent the next two hours on creating the first of the twelve runes and muttering incantations over it. After she finished, she felt drained and sat down in her chair to rest. Her beach illusion was still intact so she closed her eyes and listened to the pounding of the surf. Soon she dozed lightly.

She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep when she was awakened by something furry jumping into her lap. “Oh, Simon, you scared the heck out of me. Have I been asleep long?” She looked out over her illusion where the image of the sun was just dipping into the ocean.

Long enough to get a real sunburn from your false sun. Simon licked his right paw. That looks like it might be painful tomorrow.

“I doubt it. My illusion shouldn’t be that powerful.” But, when she looked at her hands, they were quite red. “My magic must be getting stronger. I’ll have to remember to disguise myself with an illusion and to stock up on burn spray until my skin returns to its normal color.”

What about your tan?

“I don’t tan. I burn and peel.”

I’m glad I’m covered in fur. So, I see you are preparing a magickal gate. Are we expecting company?

“Yes. My master is dropping by to see how I’m doing in a little less than a month.”

Maybe he will know about my old master.

“Why would he be likely to know your master?” Heather removed the illusion of her tropical beach with a sweep of her hand and turned on the track lighting.

All powerful wizards know each other. Trust me on that. Now I’d brush up on your confinement, warding, and banishment spells. You can’t rely on those pieces of paper Shin gave you forever. I’m sure your Master will want to test you on those.

“I was just getting to those before the book decided I should work on the gateway.” She opened The Book of Light to the section on protection spells, rolled back the rug, and knelt on the floor with a piece of chalk in her hand, and she began by drawing a circle on the ground.

She read aloud:

Wards are special symbols used to protect a certain area from magical threats. Begin by drawing a closed geometric figure and surrounding it with the symbols of protection along with the symbols for that which you wish to protect against....

Long into the night, she studied the book and practiced the symbols that would guard her from magickal threats and send creatures home to their native place. When she finally went to bed she was exhausted again. She changed into her flannel pj’s and crawled into her warm bed.

The next day came all too soon. Her alarm roused her from sweet dreams of a normal life. She struggled to unwrap herself from her covers in which she was entangled.

She prepared herself for school and presented herself to her mother. “I’m ready to go.”

“What about breakfast?”

“I’ll eat some toast on the way in. I’m not that hungry.” She shouldered her book bag and grabbed a piece of toast from the kitchen table.

“Are you certain you are well enough to go to school today? You still look a little peaked, dear.”

“I feel fine mom. Don’t worry. Just take me to school, please.”

She survived homeroom and first period, and then it was time for her stint as an office assistant. When she came up to the office secretary, she noticed that she was glaring at her computer terminal. “I can’t believe this! It’s happened again. Someone has logged onto my account and sent horrible messages to the Usenet lists.”

“Ma’am, do you log off when you leave your workstation?”

“Yes, and I log off when I go home. Look at the times on these replies. The original message was sent in the middle of the night.”

Heather looked at the vulgar posts. “I see. And, they are all from the same IP address. That’s the address for this machine, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I think it is. Does that mean it came from this machine?”

“I think so. Have you tried changing your password?”

“Yes, three times, but I keep them written down.”

“Keep your passwords in your head, not on paper. Pick something that’s easy for you to remember. Change it again and see if that helps.”

“Thank you, Heather. You are so smart about these things. I hate computers.”

Heather was about to leave the secretary in order to gather her first round of messages to deliver when she noticed a faint trace of magick on the keyboard. A trail seemed to lead from the desk, across the floor, and up the wall to an air intake. Heather was extremely curious about this and filed it away in her memory for future reference. She then went about her business for the day.

The next day the secretary had the same horrified look on her face. “Heather! I did what you said but it happened again. Someone has sent horrible messages using my id to all my Usenet groups.”

Sure enough, the rampaging poster had left another barrage of foul posts in the poor secretary’s name. The same magickal trail shone in her mind’s eye. Heather decided it was time for her to investigate.

After she made her rounds she snuck into the school kitchen to snatch a loaf of bread and a carton of milk. She hastened to a girl’s lavatory on the far south end of the school. She entered and made sure she was alone. She opened a loose grill in the corner of the lavatory and called “Hey, Bert! I got your offering for the week.”

Several “Oi’s” and cursing were coming from the hole in the wall. As the noise got louder, Heather could see beady little eyes shining in the darkness beyond the grate. Soon three grimy brownies pushed each other through the hole in the wall.”

“Oi, girlie, what do you want?”

“I’m keeping my promise. Are you keeping yours?”

Bert the brownie gave her a wicked toothed grin. “Oi. Of course we’re keeping our promise. We’ve been keeping this building clean and brand spanking new for two months now. There haven’t been any troubles since you started giving us what’s ours -- our due offering.”

“Someone has been messing around with the computers in the office.”

Bert dusted his leather pants with his leather cap and looked indignant. “Well, it weren’t us.”

“Okay, then who was it.”

“Somebody else.”

Heather felt like she was being told half the story. “Okay, who’s this somebody else?”

“I dunno,” said Bert.

“Me either,” said the second brownie.

“Could be Alli the troll,” said the third.

“Would you just hush up,” interjected Bert.

“Well, it could be....”

“Let me get this straight. There’s a troll running around this school?”

Bert looked kind of sheepish. “Well, yes, but we weren’t going to tell you about him.”

“Why not?”

“Solidarity. Us magickal creatures have to stick together.”

“That’s just fine. Here’s your milk and bread. See you next week. And, remember, no pranks.”

“They weren’t pranks. They was a bloody labor dispute.”

“Whatever. Be good.”

At lunch, Heather called her mother and told her she would be out late studying, and that Jeanine would be bringing her home late so they shouldn’t wait up on her. Her mother conceded very reluctantly, but gave in when Heather said she had to study for a test.

For the remainder of the day, she went from class to class like she normally did, but when it was time to go home she dug her duffel bag of gear out from her locker and went to hide in the library until everyone had gone home for the day.

She sat at a desk in the corner and cast an illusion of a bookcase around her. There she sat and worked on her homework until after eight o’ clock when she was sure the maintenance staff had left. She dispelled her illusion of the bookcase while summoning another to cloak herself from the infrared alarm system in the hallways and offices of the school.

She changed into her work clothes: fatigues, sweatshirt, and work boots. She donned her trench coat with its pockets filled with the tools of her trade and snuck out of the library.

She opened the door to the office with the key she had filched earlier in the day. She made her way to the secretary’s desk and began drawing a pentacle on the Berber carpet beneath the secretary’s chair. She took her time surrounding the pentacle with magical runes to create a trap for her quarry.

At eleven o’ clock she gathered up her chalk and secreted herself underneath the desk where she watched, listened, and waited.

Around midnight, she heard a scrabbling sound from the air intake. After a few minutes, she saw in the dim light a pair of stubby legs touch the floor near the wall. She held her breath as the legs approached the chair and gingerly climbed into the seat.

She quickly reached her hands forward and touched the edge of the circle of the pentacle and imbued it with magickal power. The pentacle started to glow, and the figure in the chair grew rigid.

A raspy voice shouted a string of profanities as the confinement spell raised to full power. “Hey, what the hell is going on?”

“What is your name?”

“I’m not saying nothing until you release me.”

“What is your name?” Heather brought her fingertips close together and sparks began to fly between them. The sparks jumped to the knobby skin of the bare legs of the intruder.

“Ack, My name is Alli. Alli the troll. And, I’m going to kill you once I get free.”

“Okay, Alli. I’m sending you home to the magickal world you came from. You won’t be bothering anyone else when I’m through with you.” Heather began to intone the words of the banishment spell.

“Wait. I don’t want to go back!”

Heather continued her chanting. The troll kept up his protests, but gradually grew quiet. The spell took hold and the legs began to fade. As her voice reached crescendo there was a loud popping noise, and all that was left of the troll was a puff of smoke.

Heather pushed the chair out of the pentacle and crawled out from under the desk. She dusted herself off and stood up. She stretched to work out the kinks in her body. She was pleased with herself. The banishment spell had worked, and she had returned a creature of magick to its own realm.

From her bag she removed a stiff brush and a spray bottle of carpet cleaner. She went to work erasing her handiwork. After an hour of work no sign of her pentacle remained.

She picked up the phone and called Josh to come pick her up. The phone rang seven times before Josh answered in a tired voice. “It’s one o’ clock in the morning. This better be good.”

“Josh, it’s Heather. I’m at my school. Could you come pick me up?”

“Tonight?”

“Wake up, Josh. Of course, I mean tonight. Can you come get me?”

“Alright. Give me forty-five minutes to get to you. Maybe an hour. I’ll be there.”

“Pick me up at the gas station across from the school. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

Heather hung up the phone. She slowly gathered her things in her duffel bag and searched for a way to get out of the school. She silenced the alarm on the fire exit door and went outside into the cold November night. The area around the school was deserted, so she quickly made her way to the closed gas station to wait for Josh.

Once she was under the canopy over the gas pumps she took time to survey the area for signs of invisible attackers. When she was satisfied she was alone she cast a dim version of her true light spell so she would be able to relax as she waited. She didn’t want any more surprises. Josh would be here soon, and she would be safe within her protected haven before long.

Left alone in the dimness of her spell she waxed pensive and thought about all that had happened recently. She was happy that she had finally mastered a banishment spell so she could send home those creatures from the magickal planes to make up for those things she had loosed long ago. But, she was disappointed in the progress she was making. She felt it would be a long time before she could deal with the real threats of evil wizards. She started feeling guilty about her own existence that was tainted with evil. She felt soulless, like some dark automaton held together by threads of magic. Out here she felt very alone.

As those thoughts crossed her mind, she heard the flapping of large wings, and a soothing weight rested on her shoulder. Caesar, her familiar, had come to her. She instantly felt better as the bird nuzzled her cheek to remind her she was not alone.

Her moment of warm fuzziness was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps accompanied by sound of something dragging on the ground. She could see a large shadow on the edge of her light spell, so she expanded and brighten her spell to the level of daylight.

Her light revealed the hulking form of a rough skinned, orange creature that was dragging a huge club along the ground. The thing stared at her with angry, bloodshot eyes above a bulbous nose. It was bearing its yellowed, uneven teeth in an evil grimace. Tufts of red orange hair stuck out in clumps over its unwashed body. All it wore was a soiled loincloth.

Advancing while growling in a loud voice he leered at Heather. “Heather of the Light! I am the Guardian Ogre of this leyline. You have been interfering in the lives of magickal creatures long enough. I am here to take care of you.” He started to raise his club above his head and bring it down upon her.

Readying her lightning spell Heather backed away from the creature. She willed her mana to flow into her hands as she brought her fingertips together. Sparks started to arc between her fingers as she drew them apart. She willed even more mana into her spell and the arc grew brighter. She gathered the sparks into ball as the thing began to bring his club down on her.

She threw the ball of sparks into the bulging belly of the advancing ogre. Blue white energy arced around the ogre making his body spasm. The club fell out of the ogre’s grasp, but he did not fall to the ground nor did his feet falter. Heather had to jump to the side to avoid being trampled.

Heather tried to ready another spell, but the ogre was already coming around for another rush at her. Caesar flew at the face of the ogre scratching at his eyes with his talons and beating him with his wings. The ogre had to arrest his forward motion to swipe at Caesar with his hands. Heather took the time gained by her familiar to ready another lightning ball. She tossed it at the ogre’s belly again. Sparks arced around the ogre, but he remained upright.

Heather closed with the ogre and executed a leg sweep that landed the ogre on the ground. The ogre let out a low growl and scrabbled to his feet. Heather let loose with a jump kick to the ogre’s face which bloodied his nose.

The ogre, sweeping his bulging arms and great hands after Heather, caught her with a backhand. Heather was knocked to the ground but rolled to a kneeling position where she pulled her gun out of her coat. Firing three rounds at the ogre, she wounded him twice, once in the shoulder and once in the gut.

Roaring in pain with each shot the ogre shouted, “I’m going to kill you! You are a menace to magickal life and need to be put in your grave.” He came after Heather again swinging wildly. Heather stayed put and squeezed off another three rounds into the bulk of the creature. The ogre was bleeding green blood from the holes in his body and he was slowing down. The giant creature lumbered over to his club and picked it up. “I’m going to bash your brains in. That will teach you.” The ogre slipped and fell to one knee. His hands swept the area around him, and Heather heard something that she couldn’t see hit the pumps and leave a dent.

Heather opened her revolver and took out a speed loader. She emptied her shells on the ground. As she was reloading, the ogre pitched forward as blue lights played the back of his skull. The ogre fell to the ground and remained still.

Heather stood up and trained her pistol on the area where the dent had appeared. Caesar returned to her shoulder. Her True Light spell revealed nothing, but clearly the ogre had hit something, and that something had hit back. “Don’t move. I know you are there.”

“Don’t shoot. I have you covered,” came the disembodied voice directly in front of her.

“Quit hiding and show yourself.”

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your tail?”

“I don’t trust things I can’t see.” Heather was casting another spell to reveal illusions but she still saw nothing. She tried unfocusing her eyes and looking beyond the point where the voice had come, but she still sensed nothing. “What are you?”

“You mean: who am I?” gradually the outline of a girl in a cloak took shape before her. The girl was dressed in a blue jumpsuit which matched her blue hooded cloak. Her face was hidden by a silver mask. She held what appeared to be an automatic pistol in one gloved hand. The weapon was trained on Heather.

“Okay, who are you?”

“My name is Acea.”

“Acea, were you the one who saved me earlier as well?”

“Yes, that was me.”

“Why are you following me?”

“Let’s just say it’s part of my job.”

“Your job is to follow me, or protect me.”

“Follow you. I decided to protect you on my own.”

“Well I don’t think I should thank you when you hide your face from me.”

The girl’s left hand pulled back her hood revealing dark hair. It was so black it was almost blue. She put her hand to her mask and lowered it away from her face. The face the mask revealed was extremely pretty in an alien way. Her face was a pale blue as were her full lips. Her eyes were a deep blue that was flecked with gold. “You can thank me now.”

“I’ll ask you again. What are you?”

“I’m human same as you. I just come from a different place than you do.”

“Where is that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Another world.”

“Really?” At this point Heather was willing to believe anything. “So, you are an alien.”

“One quarter alien, but still human.”

“And your job is to follow me.”

“As such. Yes. I wasn’t supposed to interfere.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I developed a respect for you, a certain affection. I didn’t want to see you hurt, to watch you die just because someone wanted to see what happens when you revive.”

“You helped me because you like me.”

“I like you very much. I got into trouble for helping you with the stalkers. Central will have my head if they found I snuck off on my own to protect you again.”

“Then I guess I owe you some thanks. But, in the future, remember I can take care of myself.”

“You need all the help you can get. Dark forces great and small have taken an unhealthy interest in you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. What about your interest? Is it unhealthy?”

“Healthy for you. Unhealthy for me if I get caught.”

Heather considered these things. “What is the interest of your friends and masters?”

“They want to keep tabs on you. See what happens.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s social experiment.”

“I can’t do anything about that. They will be watching you. I won’t be able to help when I’m with them.”

Acea holstered her weapon, and Heather let her arm fall to her side. Acea reached up a gloved hand and stroked Heather’s cheek. “If I don’t see you again, I know I will miss you. I hope you will miss me.” She gently seized either side of Heather’s face and gave her a kiss. Heather was surprised, but she returned the kiss as best she could.

“How did you know?”

“I guessed. We’ve been watching you for some time now. We know you as well as you know yourself.”

“You have some way to go then. I don’t understand myself.”

They stood in silence for a moment while they watched the ogre dissolve into orange smoke. Acea looked at Heather.

“You know yourself better than you think you do. I must be going now.”

“I think I will miss you. Take care. Don’t get in trouble over me.”

Acea pulled a silver and blue cube out of a pouch on her belt and tossed it on the ground. The cube transformed and grew into the shape of a motorcycle with pads instead of wheels. Blue light outlined the silver parts of the cycle. Acea hopped on the seat, turned herself and the vehicle invisible, and sped away.

All Heather could see was the vortex of dust kicked up by the bike’s thrusters as it rose off the ground.

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