Darkwell - Douglas Niles [92]
He began, without peeking, to take stock of his surroundings. He could hear the deep, raspy breathing of some creature beside him. A warm, smoky smell filled the air, and he thought he detected the scent of meat roasting on a fire. Indeed, he could hear it sizzling.
Against all his attempts to stifle it, his belly rumbled from hunger. Of course, he reminded himself, that wouldn't matter after this horrible beast had killed him. And still he waited, and still he wasn't killed.
Daringly he decided to sneak one eye open a tiny crack. He peeped from beneath the trembling lid and caught sight of a huge warty nose, flanked by a pair of beady eyes. A troll! Immediately he squeezed his eyes shut, and he once again waited to be killed.
"Well? Why'd ya nock?" The gruff voice, propelled by a burst of unimaginably bad breath, rumbled in his ears. He didn't dare move, or speak, or look, or anything.
"Woke me up, ya did! Banging on the gate, you wuz – I heard ya!"
"G-Gate?" The sprite dared another look at the thing. "Gate to what?"
"Why, to Faerie! You is a stoopid one, ain'tcha?"
"Y-Yes, I mean, n-no! I m-mean, I didn't knock – didn't knock. I am stupid, though. You're right – right!"
Yazilliclick looked up hesitantly at the troll again. The creature's green skin was covered with warts, and it towered over the faerie, even as it squatted before him. In size, it nearly equaled a firbolg.
It was much skinnier, however, with spindly arms and legs that looked awkward and frail. The sprite knew they were lined with supple sinews far stronger than any human's, however. The great, hooked nose wagged menacingly at him, and those gleaming, incongruously tiny eyes fixed him with a baleful glare.
"Did ya wants in or out? I kin pitch ya back out if ya wants!"
"N-No! Y-Yes! N-Yes! I did wants – want – in! And you heard m-me! You're a guardian troll, aren't you? And this is a gate to Faerie – to Faerie!" Now the sprite opened his eyes wide – He wanted to leap up and hug the troll, but common sense suggested this might be a bad idea.
"Bright fella, ain'tcha now? 'Course this is Faerie! An' I'm a troll, ain't I? An' I'm guardin' the gate, ain't I? Whaddya think?"
Bolder now, Yazilliclick looked around at the 'gate.' It wasn't much, really. It passed right through this troll's earthen lair, but the sprite couldn't even locate the exact spot he had entered. Of course, his eyes had been squeezed tightly shut, but it seemed he had been pulled through a tangle of roots growing from the dirt wall on the far side of the lair. Elsewhere, he saw a crude stone fireplace where a succulent piece of meat sizzled on a stick. A few clean-picked bones lay in a heap in one corner, and a heavy oaken door stood in the wall opposite the tangle of roots. He noticed a collection of jugs and kettles, all covered with filth and dirt, scattered around the room. Then he remembered the troll's question.
"What do I th-think? I think I'm h-home! I – I just wanted to come home so bad – so bad! And you must have h-heard me think about it. That's it – that's it! I didn't even know there was a g-gate here!"
"Didn't know! Is you blind?"
"B-BIind? I am not blind!" Yazilliclick became indignant. "It's j-just that everything has changed so much out there that none of the gates even l-look like gates anymore! You should make a look at what you're g-guarding sometime, then you'd s-see!" He gasped for air, unaccustomed to such long speeches.
The troll chuckled. "You been gone a long time, not to see gate!"
"Oh, I have – I have! And I'm never going away again – again! N-Now that I'm home, I'm going to stay r-right here!" And then Yazilliclick paused. For the first time since he had sensed his impending death, he thought of his friends. How were they faring in the desolate wasteland of the vale? The sprite knew that he couldn't abandon them.
"Kwitcher yakkin'," groused the troll. "I is thirsty. Give me rotgut." He pointed to a filthy jug of unknown origin and equally unknown contents.
Now Yazilliclick's terror had passed, and he knew he had to do