Hello again all. I hop this chapter finds you well.

Chapter 10

The Dishonored and the Draknagoth

Jim tried not to stare, but he couldn't help but peek at Paduga as she ate. Geode was honest at least; she'd brought a bucket of blood in for the aswang troll, and while Jim explained a new game the troll extended her tongue, so much like a probiscus, into the bucket and drank without stopping for nearly half an hour.

She turned red when she fed, as if the blood altered her color. It was brightest in her body and lightened along her extremities. It was a rather interesting gradient effect.

Geode demanded to try the new game with him, and Jim felt a little bad beating her at five rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe. In spite of the whole kidnapping thing. Or perhaps that was just self-preservation wanting to keep their captor happy. He revealed a few of the tricks – X goes first, the middle is helpful but not the sole key to victory – and Geode managed to tie with him after that, winning a few rounds in the process.

"So this hair on your face…it grows a little each day in this pattern? And you shave it off because…?"

Jim rubbed his cheek, disliking the scrabble. "For me it's just a preference. I don't like the feeling of a beard, it itches. But in some cultures and places, most of the men like to have beards." Geode gazed at his face and he felt like a bacteria under a microscope, scrutinized and weighed as if to consider what antibiotics to use.

"I will return later." She stood up and left abruptly. Jim sighed and leaned against the wall.

Paduga lifted her from the bucked, drawing her tongue back into her mouth. She sighed contentedly. "You're an angel," she said frankly, sitting up and yawning. "Thank you. Really."

"No problem. I'm glad my plan worked, I'm not usually very good at thinking up plans. That's a Blinky or Claire thing. Or my mom." He winced, a pang of loss in his heart. Jim watched Peanut the cat pace back and forth, looking as unbothered as ever. Remember, be like Peanut. "So. What now?"

"I think now I tell you about the aswang." Paduga was much more agreeable with a full stomach. Which, Jim reflected, was true for most people and animals. "You know the changelings were created by the Gumm-Gumms?"

"I thought Morganna made them." Jim shifted so he was sitting closer to the wall they shared so she didn't have to yell. She tilted her head as if to say "yes-and-no."

"She perfected them. The Gumm-Gumms worked for centuries to create the trolls you now know as changelings. Orlagk's predecessors wanted spies that could infiltrate human forces and sow chaos. The troll mages worked for years to create new species that could transform at will." Paduga paused, as if lost in a memory. "Some of the species worked. The stalkling breed was particularly praised. Flocks of them would descend on towns of humans and strike fear into the hearts of the survivors. Of which there were very, very few that actually maintained the ability to reason and speak after the carnage. Many of them were brought back to Gumm-Gumm camps…not quite dead."

Jim thought of the attack on Arcadia and could well believe it. "Were the aswang a new species created by the experiments?"

"We were the lucky ones. We were able to survive in sunlight like the stalklings but also able to reason. And we were sufficiently creepy to terrify enemy troll forces. A creature that could feed on them, not just humans." Paduga's ears lowered in shame. "We were often sent into Trollmarkets to frighten them into surrender or shake their resolve. We were basically troll vampires or boogeymen." She let out a soft, dead laugh. "It's kind of funny that creatures that have eaten humans in the past are so terrified of being eaten themselves. Sort of a karmic irony."

"And you were the 'lucky ones?'" Jim asked, bewildered.

"At least we weren't formed with limbs missing. Or unable to eat because our stomachs were on the outside of our bodies." Paduga stared at him. "A lot of trolls died horrible, horrible deaths in the Gumm-Gumm experiments. The troll mages weren't so accomplished with the mutation and transformation arts." Cold crept down Jim's back. "In a way, Morganna creating the race of changelings ended a lot of suffering. No more trolls died from having their organs give out or from slow, helpless starvation. Not that I think what she did was right, but at least the familiars and changelings didn't hurt. She's…she's evil and calculating and awful, but she created a viable, reproducing species. She's a wicked artist."

"I had no idea the experiments were like that. I just thought Morganna created the changelings and that was it." Jim tried not to think about innocent trolls born sick and dying because of a twisted desire for power. Morganna's evil was undeniable, shown by the harm brought to troll and human babies, but the thought of the changeling kids sprawled on the ground, piecemeal and starving, was an image he had to drive out of his mind. He shook his to disperse the nightmare. "So why haven't I heard of the aswang before this? Were there not very many of you?"

"A few dozen. Not a ton. We weren't great as spies after all. We stand out." Paduga stood up and stretched a little, pacing around on all fours in her tiny pen. "As the wars got darker and bloodier, we fed on the blood in the corpses of any trolls. We were treated as monsters by everyone, including the Gumm-Gumms. We repulsed them all, even as we fought for them. That is, until one scholar made use of people that had no friends or family that we could leak information to." She scratched her ears. "He used us as servants, but we became…a little more, I think. Disciples in a way. Not in a religious sense, but…well, we were like students to him. He wasn't very kind but he was intelligent, and it was nice to be looked at something other than disgusting. We were useful to the Wise Bodus." She looked nervous, ashamed. "We didn't want to follow Gunmar, it was the only thing we knew. So when our teacher helped us leave the Gumm-Gumms for education and research, we jumped at the chance."

Jim settled his chin on his knees. "Bodus…the one who wrote a message about the Triumbric Stones?"

"Yes, that was him! He knew leaving that information was the only way anyone would end the Usurper's life. I figured you must have found it since you killed him." She looked pleased. "I'm glad his work wasn't in vain."

"He's known as the 'Dishonorable Bodus' to trolls now. I guess his loyalties swayed and neither side was too thrilled with him." Jim hesitated to say it, but Paduga didn't seem surprised. "So you were the disciples of Bodus that helped with his research. I…I thought he and they were all killed."

She lifted her eyes to his. "They were. All but two or three. You're looking at the last living student of Bodus…the last living aswang, so far as I know." Jim blinked, and the stark loneliness on her face made his heart soften even more for her. "The few of us that fled scattered, and I haven't heard from the others in centuries. I hid in the islands of the Philippines and fed on the wildlife there, able to stay hidden in the less populated areas."

"How did Geode catch you? You must have been pretty well hidden?" She smiled ruefully at the question.

"If I tell you she found a cave I was living in and caught me napping, would you think me an idiot?" He shook his head and she smiled. "She was looking for a being with old information, though I don't think I had quite what she wanted. She was interested in magical portals and the lives of humans. I could have told her about troll history more than either of those."

"Makes sense. You learned under a troll scholar." Jim thought of Blinky. "I know someone that would love to meet you, talk about all you must have learned. Do you have a library or something?"

She shook her head. "Most of Master Bodus's work was burned. But I don't need parchment and ink; I memorized the entire works of Master Bodus and a number of other scholars as my fellows did. I've transcribed several copies of each." Jim gave her a look of skepticism, unable to hide it. She shut her eyes. "An excerpt from Lore of the Ancestors, by Griggle the Detail-Oriented. 'Information from the era of the Draknagoth is rare and sparse, but a select few trolls have been able to bear witness to its slumber. In the thirtieth year of Galus, elder of Glastonbury Trollmarket, two-thousand-sixty-four before Christ, the Gumm-Gumms dealt the final blow to the Draknagoth, our ancestor most esteemed-'"

Jim put up a hand. "Okay, I believe you. I guess beings hundreds of years old might give you a lot of memory talent." She smiled as if pleased to have impressed someone. "The Draknagoth…can you tell me about that?"

Paduga nodded slowly and her expression became misty. "The Draknagoth…it is the ancestor of most of trollkind. It's like the jotnar of the jotnar. The krubera have their own ancestor, the jotnar of the deep, and she and the Draknagoth were born of the same magic." She examined her claws. "No one knows what it looked like or how old it truly was. It dwelled in heart of the most remote mountains and seeded the rich earth with the birthstones of the first trolls. The first heartstones formed from these births, and new ones tend to grow where the land is still lush with its magic."

Jim listened intently. Trolls spoke rather little of how they believed they came to be, and it was fascinating to hear Paduga speak so reverently. Knowing how magic was inherent to the very beings of trolls, he could well believe their origin was steeped in it. "Where is it now? You said it was asleep?"

Sorrow twisted her mouth. "The first time trolls encountered the surface, they were amazed by the beauty of it and the brilliant energy of the sun. But upon disovering humans, the two groups clashed. They didn't speak the same language and battles broke out over land and the beasts that provided food for both. And a few of the most barbaric of the trolls ate the humans they killed. The other trolls were horrified and broke off from them. The Gumm-Gumms were formed so quickly after the two groups met. Trollkind was fractured, broken apart, by anger and fear. And the humans were afraid of us, afraid of the creatures that could eat them and ravage their homes and fields and families."

Jim mulled this over. "Did they eventually learn to communicate?"

"After a time. But it was too late for some. Trolls were split over opinions upon understanding the human race – they were weaker, they were tasty, and did they really matter? Other trolls of course believed it was wicked to eat creatures that had the same mental faculties as themselves."

"And how did this affect the Draknagoth? And why is it being asleep a big deal?" Jim asked.

Paduga shifted uncomfortably again, as if bearing testimony to a shameful history that was embarrassing for her personally. "When murder entered the hearts of trolls, the Draknagoth…something about that evil weakened it. It was still powerful and intervened in many cases of huma- troll combat, but both groups spread out over the world. The hate grew and grew – the same hate that would one day rot a heartstone and give birth to the Usurper. Even the Draknagoth couldn't stop all the bloodshed. And the Gumm-Gumms had a clever, if vile, idea. They would kill the Draknagoth and frame the human armies. All trolls would unite against all humans and they would finally wipe all humankind from the planet…or make them into livestock." She shook her head quickly, as if the thought made her dizzy.

Jim sat up straight. "…I take it that didn't happen?"

"They couldn't kill it. The Draknagoth is not a being so easy to destroy. But black mages and sorcerers among the Gumm-Gumms managed the next best thing. They cast the deepest, darkest sleep possible on the Draknagoth." Paduga chewed her lip a bit, narrow face nervous. "It sank into a deep place and no one has seen it since more than four thousand years ago."

Jim stretched slowly, mind rushing. "And something about that cursed the trolls?"

"Our ancestor was betrayed by the very creatures it made. It held so much magic that I would have been stunned if there hadn't been some kind of curse." Paduga's eyes followed him as he stood up and paced quietly beside the wall. He couldn't sit still too long lest the walls start closing in. "From the moment the Draknagoth disappeared, sunlight burned trolls. Some of the Gumm-Gumms that committed the act were caught in the sun and turned to stone immediately. It's the only reason that humans survived when the Gumm-Gumms finally started mobilizing for war. It gave humans an advantage. The species created centuries afterward were able to tolerate sunlight. Except the changelings themselves, since they were created from normal trolls." She sighed mournfully. "Some say the Draknagoth will return, but many have died hoping and waiting. And I guess trolls have forgotten the sun entirely."

Jim weighed his next question. "Is the Draknagoth like a god to trolls? Or was it, anyway?"

"No…more like our ancestor, our father. Those who remember revere it, not worship." Paduga paused. "I think she's back."

He bit back further questions. He too heard Geode's tick-ticking steps. She descended, holding a plastic bag. "I have retrieved items. Explain the purpose of them to me." The golem set the bag down and pulled out an object.

"Where did you get these? Is there a city around?" Her eyes narrows and Jim put his hands up defensively. "Hey, I can't communicate with the outside world. What does it matter?"

"Be that as it may." He looked at what she held before the crystal wall.

"It's an instant meal. I can't read that language, but I'm pretty sure it's something you add water to and microwave. People have made them so they can fix food cheaply and quickly. It sacrifices quality, but sometimes if you're hungry and don't have time, they're okay." He tried to figure out what the dish was – rice, lentils? – and the characters that made up the words looked like Arabic. A Middle Eastern country maybe? What were all the countries had Arabic text? Strickler would know.

She lifted another item. "And this?"

"That's a DVD. Do you know what a play is?" She shook her head. "Well…a play is basically a story being acted out. Sometimes there's dancing or singing. A DVD is pretty much a kind of recorded play." Aware that he was simplifying to an outrageous degree, Jim opened the box. "If you had a device that plays it, electricity, and a screen to connect to, you could watch it. That would make more sense than me telling you about it."

"Fascinating." The next item was a surprise. "I think I know what this is. It's used to remove hair from one's face."

"Yeah, it's a razor." It was pink, but he sure wasn't going to complain. The lack of a receipt made him feel guilty. "Did you get this for me?"

"I wish to observe the phenomenon you call 'shaving.'" Geode sat down, legs crossed, blank eyes staring. Jim, unwilling to explain the concept of shaving cream, cologne, and everything else, settled for asking for water. Paduga watched in silence and Jim managed to shave the stubble from his face and only cut himself twice.

Nomura hated the red mark.

If Blinky said he hadn't eaten a human, he hadn't. It was plain and simple. The Trollslayers were a bunch of losers. Barbara had been turned into a wyvern, Claire and Toby and whoever else the other kids were had trouble in spades. And Little Gynt was missing. She was normally so good at compartmentalizing, figuring out what to do. But now everything felt splintered and cracked, like water was leaking out through so many places and the vessel would fall to pieces.

The stove was broken, but there were no delicious meals being cooked on it anyway. Oh sure, NotEnrique was whipping up Glug and there was regular troll fare. But the passionate, caring, creative meals were gone. So was the Wednesday drop-off of new books for the changeling children. "The Trollhunter would bring candy and unpopped popcorn kernels when he got new books," Carina told her. "Sometimes he'd read to us." Jim's scent was fading over the days, vanishing from places where it had always been present. His sheets and blankets, one of the upended crates in Blinky's room where he would sit when talking to the elder. There was no more familiar laugh. In fact, most of the laughter had gone.

Bagdwella waved vaguely as Nomura passed, downcast. The Trollhunter was always helping her with some errand or request. Jevin had just gotten off sentry duty – his shoulders slumped. Someone had to cover for Jim's absence. Vali was constantly squawking like a broken smoke alarm, and it was a blessed relief when the poor little creature finally fell asleep at night.

Nomura growled and pushed away her phone, rolling over on her cot. No one had heard anything. No one knew anything. What good was a network of former changelings if they didn't have any idea about threats to the magical world?

Laying around wouldn't do a thing. She sat up, pushing her hair over her shoulders. Maybe she could give Blinky a break from researching.

"Nomura?" She stopped upon hearing Corin's voice. Nomura had nearly stalked by the entrance to the living quarters for the newest group of changelings. It had been slowly expanded, a good-sized room affording comfortable places to sleep. Many of the changelings were inside, some reading or playing cards, watching her with curious, apprehensive eyes. "I'm sorry," he continued, as if the sight of her had made him reconsider speaking. "We just…have you heard anything about the Trollhunter?"

"No." The word was dry and curt as yellow blades of grass blistered in a drought. His eyes dropped.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that. He was good to us when we arrived." Corin lifted his head. "Is there anything I can do to help? Even basic labor, helping with the tunnels-"

"We've got enough to worry about without following you around," Nomura snapped. The changeling clammed up and Nomura imagined the baleful look Jim would have given her. Dang it she missed him. Her ire dipped. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. We're all just really worried," she said quietly. "I'll see if you can't help dig for a bit. I'm sure we could use the extra hands."

Corin shook his head slightly. "I've never seen the like. A changeling worried for a Trollhunter." Nomura shrugged.

"He's hardly the conventional Trollhunter." She rubbed her burned arm absently. "Let me know if you need anything. We're not trying to ignore you. How's Mynah?"

"Just about ready to give birth." He looked nervous. "Ah, the doctor is…in an interesting situation, isn't she?"

Nomura winced. Being a dragon would make it difficult to be of assistance during a birth. "I'll talk to her. There must be some information about changeling births around here. And Mordred is a healer, so I think we're covered if there are complications, he's learning about healing trolls." Corin looked slightly relieved. The rumbling of the tunnel made her look up; the gyre had arrived. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going down a few levels."

"Of course." He returned to the room, obviously encouraged. Nomura loped down the tunnel and heard the gyre go again. It was to be a trade off if she remembered right, Draig heading back to protect Arcadia and James coming here.

"…Didn't tell me!"

"I don't see the big deal. I have tons of things I haven't told you. Mainly because you'd be fifty years older by the time I managed to tell it all!" James's voice was sharp and Merlin's rose in response. Nomura paused, peering into the gyre chamber. It still smelled of the bright, charged magic that made the machine run. James looked haggard and ill, hands on his knees as he glared at Merlin. "She's been a big help."

"Are you forgetting the fact that she cast the sleep on me? That she only helped with a spell to subdue Morganna, not kill her!? She's not to be trusted!" Merlin made a disgusted noise. "I thought better of your sense."

"She had her reasons. And that sleep spell was the only way to keep you from dying after that energy expenditure. It was either take a really long nap, or the eternal dirt nap." James straightened and there was something wolfish about him now. His beard was longer, his hair wilder, blue eyes sharp as broken glass. "If she turned Barb into a wyvern, it was to help. I have no doubt we'll be able to reverse it."

Merlin shook his head slowly. "We will discuss this after we find the Trollhunter." They finally noticed Nomura, who crossed her arms and leaned against the tunnel.

James's bearing was normally a relaxed, soothing one, but now it was commanding, stern. A king surveying a war zone. A very, very angry one. "Hey Nomura. Catch me up on how things are?"

Barbara watched Claire with fascination as the girl pushed her palms together, white magic reeking from her hands. Sweat dripped from the girl's face and Barbara helpfully beat a wing to send a cool breeze over her. Mordred nodded happily. "There you go! Your main method of magic manipulation is through your hands, kind of like Morganna."

"Great comparison," Claire grunted, breathing hard. "Doesn't really help me control it."

"Hand motions and signals will be helpful. Make this sign." Mordred made a twisting motion, as if scooping and smoothing a ball of dough in a single movement. Claire mimicked him slowly and a foggy, brittle shield formed around her. She perked up. "It's not very strong, but even a little barrier can be helpful if you need time."

Barbara turned her attention to the other side of the room. Eli was sitting against the wall, scouring a dusty tome. Steve was on his phone, pacing a little. "Yeah, I remember. I don't know yet, it's hard to say." He paused for a while, listening to the conversation. If Barbara cocked her ear a little, she could hear the familiar voice of the school coach, Lawrence if she remembered right. The man had coached Jim's Little League team. He was tough but fair for the most part.

"As long as you're both okay. I don't want anything happening to you son." Steve's pacing eased a little. "Or Eli. You both are really missed. Marty keeps asking when you'll get back and help him with his pitch. Wrangling a dozen kids for sports isn't easy without my number one assistant around."

"I know Dad. We'll be back as soon as we can." Steve smiled. "Tell Marty to keep doing the practice throws. Oh, and make Kayla captain of the kickball team huh? She's always getting picked last, she needs a chance to do the picking. And did you get the lactose free ice cream option for the field day party? Angela and Alex can't have dairy." He paused. "Oh, awesome. And nut free alternatives for Ricky?"

Claire met Barbara's eye and couldn't help but smile. Barbara had always gotten a bit of a mixed impression of Steve. He'd picked a fight with Jim, heckled him through high school, but apparently proven himself in desperate times and grown into a decent young man. His affection for the kids was obvious.

Eli set his book aside as Steve hung up. As his focus returned to his surroundings, flowers began cropping up around him. He didn't try to stop them, gazing vacantly at the plants. "What am I going to do? I can't go back to college sprouting plants."

"You weren't growing them while you were reading. Maybe it's just a matter of focus." Barbara lowered her head, sniffing the flowers. Eli took out his phone, pushing leaves away from his legs. "I bet the markings will help once Merlin can get the ingredients together."

"I hope so." Claire was trembling from exertion. "I don't know how you do it Mordred. Containing magic...I thought it was hard enough learning how to use the Shadowstaff. You don't have any markings on your hands, just the one on your chest?"

"Everyone centers their magic differently. Uncle Merlin is adept with many types, so he has a bunch of marks. I don't know about Morganna. My magic is focused on defense and healing, so my core, my heart, is the best way to process it." Claire cocked her head and Mordred continued, "Your magic is meant to fight. To protect by driving back darkness. The hands hold the sword, the pen, everything. That's why I think your marks will go on your hands."

Eli perked up. "What about my powers?"

"That's harder to say. But considering the way it's manifested…I'd say the back and shoulders would be best." Mordred traced a finger along his own shoulders. "Nature is constant growth, and by the plants of the world we are borne through life. Breath and food come from them, directly for herbivores and indirectly for omnivores and predators. Your power is one of carrying the rhythm and lifeblood of the world."

"You know a lot about magic Mordred," Barbara said. He scratched his head bashfully. A rapid step in the tunnel made them all look up and Barbara privately thought that James looked haggard.

He looked around the room, relief plain when he saw Eli, Steve, and Mordred. "Hey guys. And gals," he added, nodding at Claire and Barbara. Mordred hurried to him and hugged the man, James ruffling his hair. "Nomura filled me in. She's going to help Blinky try to find a lead on the golem." He cleared his throat. "So Barb. A wyvern. Can't say I'm surprised that's the form that was chosen."

"Is that supposed to be a crack about a fiery temper?" she asked wryly. "Because I can grill you from here."

He smiled mechanically. "Nah, I mean the protective part. I can't tell you how many peaceful wyverns were driven to burning up half the countryside when anything happened to their eggs." He rubbed his hands together, as if anticipating a difficult, irritating job. "So…how can we get in contact with these Trollslayer whipper snappers? Sounds like they some discipline."

Aaarrrgghh poked his head into Blinky's alcove, hearing movement within. His friend was slumped across a desk, head planted on an open tome. He looked worn like leather, exhausted and spent. A small blanket had been draped over his back and Nomura was sitting on the side of the desk, reading a book cross legged.

"Jim." Blinky croaked it, one hand fumbling as if reaching for the young man. Aaarrrgghh's heart broke again, and it was already in pieces from Toby's fear and misery. His own pain he could ignore – give the Gumm-Gumms one thing, they taught you to ignore your pain. They beat you until you were numb. But the suffering of his friends hurt him in a way that he could not push away.

Nomura glanced at Blinky, patting his shoulder. "It's okay. We'll get him back." Her voice was rarely that gentle. Blinky calmed under the motion. Aaarrrgghh observed this curiously before knocking quietly on the stone wall to announce himself. Nomura looked up and immediately drew her hand away. "Hey big guy. How's Toby?"

"Upset. Had to go help Nana with errands." Aaarrrgghh sniffed the nearest books. "Any luck?"

"Maybe. Listen to this." She put a finger on a line of text. "'Though rare, golems can be created without a heart of stone. Magical artifacts can be substituted. This is not recommended, as the greater the magic used, the more likely the golem is to form its own will, or the closest approximation that can occur for creatures without souls. There have been cases of a golem forming accidentally, when the force of will of a powerful mage was so great that it manifested in a being driven by that urge.'" She looked intently at him. "That thing had the Fetch for a heart. Only someone really powerful could have created it. Maybe even without meaning to."

Aaarrrgghh frowned, trying to think of who might have done such a thing. "Only one that might be that strong other than Merlin…is Morganna. Say anything else?" She nodded.

"'These golems are more likely to learn and reason, and though their emotional capacity is far below that of a troll, let alone a human, they are capable of jealousy and coveting the life of trolls and humans when they begin to understand their own limitations. If they go rogue, they may very well become violent and unstable without a control factor. There have been cases recorded of these enraged golems entering towns and killing humans and…wearing their skins…in a debauched masquerade of humanity."

Aaarrrgghh's head swam. Nomura put a hand to her mouth. At the same time Blinky stirred. "I…I must have fallen asleep." He yawned and lifted his head, rubbing his eyes blearily. "Nomura. Aaarrrgghh. Any new information?"

She shut the book immediately. "Nope. Nothing usable." Aaarrrgghh nodded. Aside from the fact that this was a smarter golem created by a powerful being, the information was nothing that Blinky needed to know. Nomura tucked it behind her back and Aaarrrgghh realized she planned to continue researching in it…but that she didn't want Blinky to see it. He couldn't help but give her a funny look as Blinky reached for the nearest book and they all began searching together.

"A drop of troll sweat, three generous pinches of rose petals, a hair from head of kelpie." Merlin progressed down the list slowly, lips forming the words. "Bloody stars, why couldn't anyone ever be more specific. How long a hair? And what is a 'generous pinch?'" He buried his face in his hands, sighing.

Merlin didn't often become afraid. Not really. But exasperated, stressed, and scattered? That was entirely fair. He searched through his ingredient supply, ignoring endless herbs as he sought the rose petals.

The marks would help. He knew they would. His first had been applied when he was two years old. It had prevented him from shooting sparks from his hands when he cried. The trolls that raised him gave him mark after mark as he grew, allowing him to contain his magic much more easily. They had been on good terms with the krubera jotnar and had an endless supply of moonwater if needed. Now they were gone, and Merlin didn't know what to do about trying to get some now. He was a little surprised the jotnar was still alive. Assuming, of course, they could trust the advice of James's "friend."

He could begrudgingly admit that Claire, if she could fully control her powers, might very well be able to find Jim. It would be difficult, but the Astral Plane would allow her to search far and wide, and if she could pick up on him from that side of magic and pinpoint his location…

Merlin grunted and kept analyzing his list. Moonwater came last. It lost its virtue quickly and had to be used within hours of obtaining it, so it would be worthless if they didn't have everything else ready to go. And he needed to hurry.

Tennis shoes halted in the doorway and he turned to see. "Whoa. You…are in a state of creative chaos." Eli's voice was awed, apparently too amazed to be nervous. Merlin focused on him as the young man entered the room, staring at the tiny drawers that held herbs, clutching a shoulder strap of a knapsack. "Are you trying to make the stuff for the marks?"

"Yes…though I'm having a time finding some of the ingredients." Eli nodded slowly.

"Maybe you need some labels for these drawers. And you could alphabetize them. It would be easy to sort them then."

"I don't have time to write out labels for everything!" Merlin knew he sounded snappish but the idea of adding one more task to his list made him want to ram his head against the wall. Instead of looking offended, Eli smiled.

"You don't have to write them out. Just tell me what they are, I'll type them and send them to a printer. I can get some sticker paper so you can just stick the labels on." Merlin blinked. What was he talking about? "Here, hang on." Eli sat down and put down his knapsack. From it he withdrew something that reminded Merlin of the blasted phone that was so hard to figure out, but larger and it opened up to display a board of letters.

"Ah. One of those computer things." Merlin grunted. "You can make labels from it?"

"If I get the formatting right." Eli opened what looked like a piece of paper and began typing. "Let's see…nightshade, belladonna, aconite…I recognize some of these."

Merlin crossed his arms, unwilling to be impressed. "How do you know what aconite is?"

"Wolfsbane, right? They mention it in Harry Potter. And a bunch of werewolf movies and stories." Eli seemed embarrassed. "I've always thought the supernatural and monsters and stuff were interesting. I picked up a lot of lore and legends as a kid."

"Hm." Merlin sat down, watching him type with incredible speed. Maybe this boy was…not horrible after all. "I've dealt with a werewolf before. Nasty business."

Eli started. "Werewolves are real?"

"I haven't encountered more than one in my travels in the modern world, but yes, they do exist." Merlin realized Eli was staring at him expectantly. Did he want him to go on? Merlin couldn't help but be a little flattered – certainly the others listened when he spoke, but not with such rapt attention. "I suppose it's an interesting tale. And it might help me prepare this potion if I had more organization."

So he talked and Eli typed, helping him find herbs for the potion they would need. And Merlin thought that maybe, just maybe, the boy was even more not-horrible than he'd begun to think.

End of Chapter 10