Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. The 10th Kingdom copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Night Fever" copyright 2007 Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb and The Estate of Maurice Gibb, under exclusive license to Warner Strategic Marketing Inc., a Warner Music Group Company.
CHAPTER 21
TOP OF THE HEAP
Donna thought better of plunging into the island's forest. Searching for Eric alone wasn't a smart idea. If Trolls had him, she'd be dead without some kind of weapon. Even with a sword or dagger, she wasn't a trained fighter. Nightmares still plagued her of the Troll King's children, and her toes bore the memory of how they'd tortured her.
No, she needed help.
She raced along the island's perimeter, and its vegetation rubbed against her legs. Running in a stupid dress wasn't ideal, but she found Fez and Kelso not too far away.
"Hey, Big D," Kelso said. The burlap sack was in his hands, and he flicked a pea at her.
"Eric's been kidnapped by Trolls!" she shouted.
Fez frowned. "Ai, no."
She gestured to the forest wall, "They dragged him through the trees," and ran forward, but Fez dashed to her side and stopped her. "Come on, they're gonna kill him!" She pulled on his arm, but he wouldn't move.
"Trolls don't kill their hostages, not without long bouts of torture," he said. "Eric may be in pain, but he will be safe for a while. We must bring our peas to Benedick so he can sort through them. "
Kelso nodded and put on his deep Captain-of-the-Guard voice. "Eric's a screamer, so it won't be too hard to find him once we start looking." Then he pointed to the scar on his left arm. "Don't worry. I've kicked Troll ass before."
Donna clenched her fists. She didn't like waiting, hated the idea that Eric was being hurt, but what choice did she have? More than just her husband's life was in danger right now. "Let's go," she said and led the way to Benedick's yacht.
Hyde and Jackie sat naked on a cushioned bench as Benedick rejected pea-after-pea. They'd returned to the boat about a half-hour ago and gone below deck with their burlap sack. Just sitting around wasn't Hyde's strong suit—kicking someone's ass would've made him feel better—but he forced himself to remain calm. The curse had tightened its hold on Jackie, stolen her voice. Less than two hours without it, and he already wanted it back.
The room they sat in was some kind of office. Pompous-looking portraits of Benedick decorated the walls. Their gilded frames shone in the sunshine pouring from the skylight. Bejeweled lanterns dangled on hooks, and a closed door behind Benedick's desk probably led to sleeping quarters. The bastard was rich as hell, and if Hyde got the chance, he'd swipe something from him.
"No, this one won't do," Benedick kept saying. He held a magnifying glass up to each pea he inspected. Two earthenware bowls stood before him on the desk, one full of rejected peas and the other containing possible Princess Pea substitutes. Hyde's arm had settled around Jackie's waist, and every time Benedick tossed a pea into the reject pile, she heaved a sigh.
"It's gonna be cool, doll," Hyde whispered after the 281st reject. He was keeping count. "We're gettin' outta here one way or the other."
She nodded, but her fallen face told him the truth—that her hope was waning.
Two-dozen more rejected peas later, the cabin stairs creaked beside them. Kelso, Fez, and Donna had returned with only one sack of peas. Kelso dropped the sack on the desk, and Benedick said, "Ah, good. I've found only a few contenders so far—and they're distant cousins at best."
Donna was clutching her fern fronds with white knuckles. Something was wrong. Hyde stood from the bench and clasped her bare shoulder. "Hey," he said, "where's Forman? You two have an 'old, married couple' fight?"
"He's been taken by Trolls!"
Hyde stiffened, and Jackie gasped a voiceless, breathy gasp on the bench. He peered over at her, and she mouthed slowly, "Of course the dumbass would get kidnapped."
Donna approached her. "Jackie?"
"Her voice is gone," Hyde said, and Jackie wiggled her left fingers in the air. Noon light glinted off her engagement ring.
"Man, why does Hyde get all the luck?" Kelso said. "That's, like, the best engagement present ever. She never lost her voice with me when we were together, and she once spoke for three days straight."
Jackie scowled at him, and Hyde imagined the nasty insults she probably wanted to hurl, but Fez said, "No, it is the curse. It's progressing." He turned to Hyde. "Ai... Jackie's horrible, demanding voice. I'm sorry, Hyde. I will miss hearing her scream your name at night."
"When did you hear that?" Kelso said.
"I still visit certain closets from time-to-time," Fez said, and Jackie's scowl deepened. "I am King. Do not question me."
Hyde's jaw clenched. He'd have to scour their closets for freakin' magical bugs when they got home.
"I'm sorry Jackie lost her voice," Donna said, "but Eric's gonna lose his life if we don't find him. I can't stand around here anymore."
"Yeah, okay," Hyde said. "Kelso and I will go after Forman. You guys stay—"
Donna shook her head. "No. No way. That's my husband!"
Jackie was on her feet now, and she clung to Hyde's arm. Her breath heated his skin in puffs, and he looked at her. "Don't go," she mouthed. "Don't go."
"Can't leave him out there." He cupped her face and pecked her lips, but the fear in her eyes held firm. "You'll be safe here."
"Yes, you'll have your very own king to keep you company," Benedick said. His fingers drummed on the desk, and he appeared entirely too satisfied.
Fez glared at him."What are you talking about? I'm going to the forest."
"I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Your Highness. I need someone to help me sort."
Fez put his hands on his waist and stuck out his chest. "I am King of the Fourth Kingdom. I don't have to do what you say."
"Yes, but I've got you by the peas. If you don't help me sort, I might give the Princess Pea substitute to the Emperor... and I might not."
"Fez, man, just do it," Hyde said and pulled Fez aside. "I need you to look after Jackie, okay?"
Fez's brow furrowed, and his hand gripped his rapier hilt. Seemed like he would argue until... "Damn!" He unbuckled his sword belt, but Hyde refused. Having his own weapon in the forest would've been nice, but he didn't want Jackie undefended around these naked, sword-carrying freaks. "Go find Eric," Fez said and re-buckled his belt, "and, please be careful."
"But I need food!" Kelso said. He was rubbing his stomach.
Hyde grimaced. "You'll eat on the way, moron. My knapsack is crammed with sausages." He took off his knapsack, opened it, and passed Jackie two dark-red chorizos. "One's for Fez." He didn't know how long he'd be gone, and he couldn't leave them starving.
She stared at the chorizos wrapped in rough cloth. Then she glanced up at him. "I love you," she mouthed, but he wouldn't say it back. If he did, it could mean he wouldn't come back. Fuckin' irony worked that way—at least for him.
"Benedick," Donna said, "do you have any extra weapons on this boat?" but the smug bastard said no. "Then what about lending us one of your men?"
"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. I need my men to guard my yacht in case the Trolls try to attack it."
"The Emperor will hear of this," Fez said and snatched a chorizo from Jackie.
Benedick put down his magnifying glass and offered a Fez an arrogant smile. "Hear of what? If you don't survive, he'll hear of nothing. If you do survive, then you didn't need my weapons or my men after all, did you?"
"It's probably dark in the forest." Donna waved to the bejeweled lanterns on the wall. "Can we—can we at least have a lantern?"
She was doing her best to hold steady, but it had to be tough. No pretty images entered Hyde's own mind when he thought of Forman dealing with Trolls. He grasped Donna's hand, hoping to give her whatever strength he could spare. She accepted the gesture, curling her fingers around his palm.
"So the lantern?" she said, and before Benedick could agree or refuse, Fez pulled out his prize from the Jack-Be-Nimble contest—the Eternal Flame candle.
He also plucked a lantern off the wall to Benedick's sputtering objection. "The Emperor will hear of your generosity," Fez said then snapped his fingers at Kelso. "Match."
Kelso produced a match from his bundled pack. "That's the last one I brought from ho—Point Place. I used up all the others."
"Spare me the details," Fez whispered and went to a corner of the office. He held Benedick's lantern between his bare thighs, and Benedick winced. The sight of his possession so close to Fez's stones couldn't have thrilled him. But Fez lit the Eternal Flame candle and whispered something to it. Then he replaced the regular candle in the lantern with the magic one.
The flame blazed brightly behind the lantern's glass. He handed the lantern to Donna, and the candlelight dimmed slightly. With it, she led the way up the cabin stairs, and Fez followed closely behind, but Hyde paused at the fourth step..
"Jackie," he said, and Jackie perked up her sullen head, "I'll see you." He laid his palm flat against his chest. She did the same against hers, beneath the fern frond, and he felt some relief. She'd gotten his meaning.
Outside on the island—and far from the sight of Benedick's yacht—Hyde, Donna, and Kelso put on their clothes again. Donna brought them to the drag marks that went into the forest. Pink Troll dust partially covered them and a sack of spilled peas.
"Will Wolfsbane do anything against Trolls?" she said.
Kelso clutched the sack of Wolfsbane pellets dangling from his belt. "No, they're immune." Then he took the lantern from her, clearly intending to take the lead. It wasn't from arrogance. It was experience, and Hyde had to admit the guy had grown.
The three of them squeezed between the trees and were enveloped by a strange kind of darkness. Hyde glanced up at the canopy. Sunlight should have streamed in through the leaves, but a glowing blackness outlined everything instead—as if the sun were the bright filament inside a black bulb. His hands were visible to him, as were his friends. He could see their surroundings just fine but not what lay ahead of them. It had to be magic, and he kept his focus on the lantern.
"Kelso," he said, "can you make out a path?"
Kelso lowered the lantern toward the ground. "Yeah. There are Troll footprints in the dirt. I think I can step in them—yup."
They moved forward at a brisk pace, and Donna stayed by Hyde's shoulder. Discordant notes whistled through the trees as they went, and her breath quickened beside him. They clearly weren't alone in this forest, but if some huge, enchanted bird got in their way, it was gonna meet the sharp end of Kelso's sword. Hyde would make sure of it.
An acrid, meaty smell hit Eric first, but it was the thing jabbing his back that opened his eyes. He was lying on top of something—somewhere—with his hands roped tightly in front of him. A joisted ceiling stood several feet above his nose, and a guttural voice sang the Bee Gee's "Night Fever" from the same direction as the sharp odor. He angled his head to the right, but his eyes were met by a stone wall. Last he remembered, he'd been hit in the face with Troll dust...
Oh, God. He'd been captured by a thing jabbing his back really hurt, so he rolled onto his side and discovered a ratty mattress beneath him, but now the thing stuck into his ribs. He sat up with some effort and yelped in surprise as the thing poked his butt. What the hell was it?
He scooted himself forward, but the thing seemed to follow him. He scooted himself all the way to the edge of the mattress, but the thing continued to jut against his butt cheek. And he wasn't sitting on just one mattress. His legs were dangling over a whole ratty pile of them, twelve-feet high.
The guttural voice continued to sing "Night Fever" but with significant lyric changes. Eric scooted on his butt to the mattresses' longer edge and spotted a Troll below him, stirring a cast iron pot over a fireplace. It was a version of a Dutch oven, only the pot sat directly on the fire instead of hanging from metal crane. The Troll occasionally dropped in sausages from Eric's knapsack—damn it. Now Eric was hungry, even with the pungent aroma of the soup's other ingredients.
A few candles were lit by the fireplace on a small table. The Troll didn't seem to notice that Eric was awake, and Eric listened carefully to the lyrics the Troll sang. From what he'd gathered in his prior experiences, Trolls weren't a smart bunch. They could be deterred from human-hurting if given the right motivation.
He picked his moment, inhaled deeply, and sang, "We are the Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to do it. Ever strong Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to show it."
The Troll peered up. "You know the Troll Nation anthem?" He smiled with a mouth of sharp teeth. His large nose wrinkled into his heavy brow, and his brown hair fell onto shoulders covered in spiked leather.
Eric swallowed. "Some of it."
"Sing more."
"Um..." He cleared his throat. "Here I am cutting the shoes for King Burly, shaping the shoes for King Bluebell. Stitch the shoes for Queen Blabberwort!"
The Troll's smile deepened, "Wow, a puny human knows the Troll anthem," and he bowed his head. "You honor me with your terrible singing. I am Snowdrop, escapee of Snow White Memorial Prison."
"Eric Forman, also an escapee of Snow White Memorial Prison."
Snowdrop laughed, and the walls vibrated at the volume. "You're that human who fled with Acorn the Dwarf and Clayface the Goblin!"
"That's right." Eric relaxed but only a little. He was probably still doomed to die in this cottage, but maybe he could delay his death a few minutes.
Snowdrop turned back to his stew and dropped another sausage into it. Some of the liquid splashed up and landed on his giant, muscular arm. "Stab a Kelso!" he shouted, and Eric swallowed again. Kelso's defeat of the Troll King's children—currently the Troll Kingdom's sovereigns—had apparently made him notorious.
The cottage door stood many feet from the mattresses, and it banged open. Another Troll entered—a female. Her huge breasts were clad in a leather bustier, and her bright yellow hair was braided at odd angles.
"Suck an Elf, that forest is a tricky place!" she roared and lumbered toward Eric. "I got lost three times!" She reached up and grabbed his leg. "Is this what's for dinner? It has no meat!"
"Hey, there's muscle there!" Eric said then clamped his mouth shut. That was a smooth move, encouraging the Trolls to eat him.
"We're not Ogres, woman!" Snowdrop said. "We don't eat man-flesh!"
The female Troll let go of Eric's leg then slapped it, causing him to fall onto his side. "I am only joking, husband."
"Oh." Snowdrop nodded. "Nicey-nice!" He laughed again, and metal piercings in his thick bottom lip gleamed in the candlelight, as did the axe slung in his belt loop. "Daisy, I'm glad you did not get lost a fourth time."
Daisy brought her bulbous nose close to Snowdrop's. She nuzzled it before sitting at the table, and Eric marveled at what he was witnessing: a scene of Troll domesticity. These two seemed to be in love.
"Whatever you are making for dinner better be good," she said. "My brother will be angry when he gets back. He did get lost four times. Stupid, tricky tiny lights. I tried to cut them with my axe, but they were too fast."
Snowdrop held up an andouille sausage. "Pig wrapped in pig intestines."
"Nicey-nice!"
The sausage splashed into the stew, and Snowdrop continued to stir. "Figblossom will be grumpy until tomorrow when we go back to the Troll Kingdom. But the Royal Majesties will be happy with our captures. We are sure to rise in the ranks!"
"You will have to start wearing shoes for that," Daisy said and gestured to Snowdrop's bare feet.
He waved a dismissive hand at her. "Yeah, yeah."
Eric grew curious as the Trolls continued to talk. Snowdrop had said "captures," not capture. Was Donna here? Oh, God, had Snowdrop stuffed her beneath the mattresses? Was her body the thing jabbing him? His heart, which had remained relatively calm so far, began to pound. For Snowdrop to kill Donna and leave him alive made no sense, but since when were Trolls logical?
"If our Royal Majesties gain leverage against the other kingdoms," Daisy said, "and if we were the ones to provide that leverage, our statues would join the Army of Heroes!"
"Yes," Snowdrop said, "and the Troll Nation would be included in inter-kingdom events, like the Candy and Pie Expo. My ma makes the best boar's-head pie."
Daisy slammed the table, and the candles flickered. "If we won, we could get magical candy to plant in our kingdom, to replace those wretched beanstalks!"
She and Snowdrop lowered their voices and began to speak in hushed tones. Eric could still hear their conversation, but his attention lay elsewhere. He leaned over the mattresses, and the jabby thing stuck into his stomach. He tried not to think it was Donna's elbow, but he whispered, "Donna? Donna?"
"Eric Forman!" Snowdrop shouted, and Eric shot back up to a seated position. "You are a good friend to King Fez, correct?"
"Yes," Eric said automatically. Another smooth move. Knowledge was power, dumbass. Hadn't his father drilled that into his head a thousand times?
Daisy's beady black eyes lit up. "You are sure to fetch a mighty ransom from the Fourth Kingdom and give us leverage."
"He's good for a puny man." Snowdrop quit stirring the stew. He placed a lid on top of the pot—and Eric's adrenaline must have been pumping because his eyesight was as sharp as ever. Even from his vantage point on the mattresses, he saw in detail what Snowdrop pulled from his leather jacket: a thick, rolled-up leaf. It was six inches long and filled with some kind of brown, woody material. "Sing the Troll Nation anthem, Eric Forman."
Eric sang as much as he could recall, and Daisy clapped. "When we get to the Troll Kingdom," she said, "we will make sure you aren't tortured too much. Only about..."
She looked at Snowdrop, and he supplied the answer: "Four-to-six hours a day."
"Four-to-six hours a day," she repeated, "at most."
Snowdrop lit the rolled-up leaf with one of the candles. He took a long drag afterward and passed it to Daisy. "Dwarf moss," he said.
White smoke spilled from Daisy's mouth as she spoke. "We are excellent giant-rollers." Then she offered the giant to Eric.
"No, thanks," Eric said, remembering Hyde's experience with the stuff. A Dwarf-moss circle with Leo had made Hyde lose it. He vandalized a chicken coup and chased chickens out of a farm. Next morning, he woke up with a horse licking his neck, and the village accused him of murdering a shepherdess.
Daisy shrugged and passed the giant to Snowdrop. Eric backed up on the mattresses, hoping like hell Dwarf moss had a mellowing effect on Trolls. If not, he'd probably be joining the sausages in their slow-simmering stew.
Benedick laced his fingers together, having just rejected all possible replacements for the Princess Pea. Fez was grumbling beside him at the desk. He'd scooped the useless peas back into the burlap sacks, but Jackie was on her feet and shouting, "You just spent the last five hours on over a thousand peas. Just pick one and give it to the stupid Emperor!"
"Whatever you're saying, young lady," Benedick said, "I'm sure it's quite impossible for me to do."
She growled, though no one else could hear it. Her fingers itched to yank out Benedick's thick chest hair strand-by-strand. What she needed was some hot wax. Maybe she could use the candles he'd lit around the cabin.
Fez snatched a pea from the sack. "What about this one?"
"No," Benedick said, "that has a minor defect in its symmetry, see?" and Fez showed him another one. "Not speckled enough." Fez showed him a third. "Too speckled."
Fez stood from his chair. "I think you are too speckled!"
Benedick rose to meet him, and Jackie turned away. Too many exposed ding-dongs, as Steven often called them. The only one she ever wanted to see again was his.
"I'll have you know that the ladies prefer a gentleman with a little color," Benedick said.
"No, the ladies like a man with a lot of color," Fez said. "I have so much color it's pouring out of my ass! Right, Jackie?"
She didn't answer, but the pleased, "Ooh!" Fez and Benedick let out prompted her to turn back around. She'd unintentionally flashed her butt at them.
"Fez," she said and moved in close so he could see her mouth, "we have to get to the Ninth Kingdom. What are we supposed to do?"
Fez nodded as if he understood. "What now?" he said to Benedick.
"Simple, gather more peas. It's getting dark outside, but you can't wait until morning. I must bring my yacht back before it's discovered missing."
"Our friends aren't back yet." Fez crossed his arms. "We are not leaving without them."
"As you wish," Benedick crossed his arms, too, "but this yacht will leave if they do not return in time. So gather more peas... unless you don't want the Emperor to let you out of the Fifth Kingdom."
"Fine, you sonuva—" Fez yanked a lantern off the wall, "noble." He opened a desk drawer—to Benedick's gasped objection—and found matches. These were larger and seemed cruder than those from home, but Jackie didn't care as long as they worked. Fez put both the lantern and the matches into his knapsack. "Bad day, Benedick," he said and hefted up the sacks full of rejected peas.
Jackie followed him up the cabin stairs and past Benedick's men, who were still guarding the yacht. She wasn't staying behind with that creepy Benedick, especially not when he could leave the island with her. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the sky was a mix of deep blue and purple. So much time had passed since Steven, Donna, and Michael went searching for Eric. Jackie's chest felt tight, but Steven's presence was still with her. He had to be okay—though for how much longer?
Soon, when she and Fez were a safe distance from the dock, she put her clothes back on. Fez, though, remained nude—except for his underwear. She'd "insisted" he cover his privates by threatening a hard kick to the 'nads.
He dumped the rejected peas from the sacks. He set the lit lantern on the ground, and she frantically helped him collect peas. Her nails dug into the pods, ripped them open. They couldn't waste any more time.
"I am sorry, Jackie," Fez said a few minutes into gathering. "I miss your glorious yelling voice."
"Oh, don't worry," she said and tore two pods off a plant. "I'll more than make up for it once this curse is broken."
"If you are concerned for Hyde's safety, I can assure you that Kelso is a great swordsman. I do not think there are more than two or three Trolls out there, and he—"
She burst into laughter. Michael could barely use a butter knife without cutting himself. Yeah, he'd gotten lucky with the Troll King's idiot children, but with Trolls that actually knew what they were doing?
"Kelso is not exactly who you remember him to be," Fez said. "People change, especially when separated from what they are used to."
"Not Michael," Jackie said. "He will always be Michael. Cheating, superficial, self-involved Michael. I love him, but there are certain things he will never understand."
Her own words made her proud, but Fez hadn't heard them or watched her lips. He filled the silence with silly, angry songs about Benedick, and as their sacks grew full with peas, she wished she could join him.
They'd been wandering the forest for what felt like hours, but Donna didn't know the actual amount of time. Hyde's watch had stopped soon after they'd entered the woods, frozen on fifty-seven minutes past noon. The blackness surrounding them no longer glowed. The trees were barely visible, and Fez's candle was no help. The flame might've been eternal, but it had also dimmed to the point of being useless. The judge of the Jack-Be-Nimble contest must have been scammed
"Who knew such a small island would have such a big forest?" Kelso said ahead of her. He'd been leading them the whole time, supposedly following the Troll footprints.
"I don't think it's that big," Donna said. She remembered passing the same, twisty tree a few times before that strange, black light faded away.
"Yeah, me neither," Hyde said. He'd been walking beside her most of the time, occasionally taking her hand or giving her shoulder a comforting pat. But he left her to grab Kelso by the jacket. "We've been goin' in circles, man." The whites of Kelso's eyes lit up in the lantern's dim glow. Hyde had turned him around.
"Wha—well, don't blame me! I've been following that twinkling light!"
A tiny spark was floating behind Kelso's head, and Donna groaned. She hadn't spotted it before. His big head must've blocked it while it led him in circles. "Kelso," she said, "you've been here for almost a year—"
"N'uh-uh! Only for a few hours."
"No, you jackass, in the Nine Kingdoms! Even I know never to trust a twinkling light in the forest. We've been Pixie-led!" Donna's fists shook, and the Pixie zipped in front of her face. She swatted at it. "Get out of here!"
"Flee, Pixie, flee," her engagement ring sang. "Don't you ever bother me!"
The Pixie flew into Hyde's eye-line next, but he grabbed his sunglasses from his shirt collar and slid them on. The Pixie whistled a harrumph! then shot into the trees.
"I think it was pouting," Hyde said.
"Whatever." Donna grasped Kelso's ears, and his knees buckled. "It's a wonder Fez hasn't demoted you to court jester—or that his kingdom hasn't been conquered by Trolls!"
"There are a lot of forests in the Nine Kingdoms, Donna!" Kelso attempted to pry her fingers off him, but her anger gave the strength to hold on. "I—I haven't been in all of them. God."
Hyde touched Donna's arm gently. "I know you're worried about Forman, but give the moron a break."
He was right. She was ridiculously worried about Eric. She released Kelso's ears and snatched the useless lantern from him. It didn't offer much light, but it could serve as a weapon.
"Thank you, Hyde," Kelso said.
"Don't mention it."
"All right," Donna said and marched ahead, "from now on, I'm the leader. Be on the lookout for anything that looks like a shelter or sounds like Troll voices or—"
"Eric screaming?" Kelso said, followed by a yelp. "Hyde, I was only jo—OW! Stop hitting!"
"Stop being a moron, and I'll stop hitting."
Donna's grip tightened on the lantern. Hyde cared about Eric as much as she did, and Kelso had probably grown accustomed to being in danger. But unlike her, they wouldn't search for him forever. They'd eventually give up. "Both of you shut it," she ordered, "or I'll tell Benedick you like it rough."
"Yeah, okay," Hyde said.
"Yes, ma'am," Kelso said.
That was more like it.
The Trolls' cottage was filled with Dwarf moss smoke, and Eric kept his nose buried in his dress shirt, hoping the cottage would air out before he suffocated or became deranged. Snowdrop and Daisy were sitting against the wall beside the fireplace. Randomly, one of them would say "Nicey-nice" or bat at something invisible. Other than that, though, they seemed out for the count.
That was good because Eric couldn't lounge on the pile of mattresses anymore. The jabby thing had become intolerable to sit on, and he had a hunch. He peeked his nose from his shirt once the cottage grew less hazy. The air smelled relatively safe. He'd have to risk breathing.
The knot tying his hands couldn't be undone with his teeth, and his teeth couldn't bite through the ropes. Climbing down the mattresses wouldn't be easy with joined wrists, but it could be done. He lay on his stomach, and the jabby thing pressed into his ribs. He sucked in a breath at the pain, but if his hunch was right, it would really pay off.
His legs swung over the edge of the mattresses. His feet found purchase, and his tied-up hands grabbed as much mattress as they could. He began a slow and careful climb down the pile—and slipped once he was halfway to the floor. He fell six feet and landed with a thump! and the Trolls laughed at what must have been a funny sight. The puny, tied-up human dropping on his dumb ass. But they didn't move to stop him. They were completely baked, which made Eric feel even bolder.
He got to his feet and turned to the Trolls. "Snowdrop, may I borrow your axe?"
The Troll opened his mouth, and a garbled sound came out.
"I'll take that as a yes.".
Eric pulled the axe from Snowdrop's belt loop and backed away toward the mattresses. The axe was heavy, but he managed to hold handle between his knees. He brought his wrists to the blade and sliced the ropes off them. His hands broke apart, finally free from bondage. He wiggled his fingers. Man, that felt good—almost as good as it did to touch Donna.
It was time for part two of his plan. He placed the axe on the floor and peered up at the mattresses. Climbing them again to check underneath each one wasn't going to happen. He'd have to topple them.
He moved to the other side of the mattresses and squeezed between them and the cottage wall. He leaned his entire upper body into the pile. Mattresses rained onto the floor, and the Trolls didn't stir at the impact—good.
Four mattresses remained. He shoved another off the pile, and Daisy shouted, "No, I don't want any clouds. Suck an Elf—I said no clouds!" She pulled out her axe and hacked into the air.
Eric shrank back. The axe he'd "borrowed" from Snowdrop was buried under a mound of heavy, toppled-over mattresses. His third smooth move, and Red's voice rang inside his mind, "That's thinking ahead, dumbass, removing access to your only weapon!" He never should've put the axe down.
At least Daisy appeared to have calmed down. Her axe lay on her lap, and she was humming the Troll Nation anthem to herself. Still, Eric wouldn't risk rousing her again by shoving more mattresses to the floor.
It was time for part three of his plan. He knelt to the floor and stuck his arm beneath the bottom-most mattress. The jabby thing poked at him from above, so he pulled out his arm. Then his hand squeezed between the bottom-most mattress and the one on top of it.
"Donna, this better not be you..." His fingertips grazed something smooth and round. He grabbed it, and a sharp pain bit into his pinky.
He whipped his hand out and opened his fist. A perfectly round pea sat at the center of his palm. Snowdrop had spoken of two captures. One was Eric himself, and the other had to be the Princess Pea, the very thing he'd just found. But he gave himself no time for congratulations.
His pinky was stinging and throbbing. A glowing bite mark shone from the tip. He'd have to worry about it later, though. He pulled out the pouch of seeds Laurie had given him and dropped the pea into it. Then he replaced the pouch into his pants pocket.
It was time for part four of his plan: getting the hell out of here. The cottage had blackened windows. Either that, or it was the dead of night. Whatever the reason, he didn't care as long as he could kick the windows out. For all he knew, the door to this place had a tricky lock. It was always good to have more than one escape route. Red had taught him that.
He picked his way through the fallen mattresses and spared a rueful glance to where Snowdrop's axe was buried. Knowing Donna, she was out in the forest looking for him. One of the Trolls hadn't come back yet—shit. Figblossom was still out there.
Eric shoved mattresses aside and dashed toward the door, but the stinging in his pinky traveled up his finger. He raised his pinky to look at it, and a bright light blinded him. Stars flashed in front of his eyes, but when his vision cleared, he looked above his pinky. A thin beam of light was emanating from it like a mini-flashlight.
Damn, that couldn't be good. He curled his fingers into a fist, and a heavy weight fell onto his shoulders. It gave him an instant headache. Snowdrop's huge hands were holding onto him.
"Sing the Troll Nation anthem to the Fairies," Snowdrop said.
"But, um... there are no Fairies here."
"SING!" Snowdrop shoved Eric to the floor. "They must respect the Troll Nation! Sucking Elf-ing Fairies."
He sat beside Eric and trapped him beneath a large, muscular arm. The overwhelming smell of Troll-armpit made Eric gag, but he recovered quickly enough to sing before Snowdrop crushed him.
"Listen to the ground," Eric sang and gazed longingly at the door. "There is movement all around." Maybe he could use Laurie's seeds to escape. "There is something goin' down, and I can feel it." But what good would seeds do? If he tossed them onto the cottage floor, they'd probably do nothing, and Laurie would laugh at him from wherever Fairy Godsisters hung out.
"I like you," Snowdrop said after Eric's first round through the anthem.
"Thank you."
"Figblossom won't like you."
Eric's voice cracked. "Why not?"
"You sing the anthem better than he does."
Terrific. Eric leaned his head back against the wall. Figblossom would return eventually, and he wasn't high on Dwarf moss.
"Sing!" Snowdrop slapped Eric's thigh.
"Ouch! Okay!." Eric said. He rubbed his aching leg, and stars dazzled his eyes again. The base of his ring finger was emitting light like his pinky.
Snowdrop swatted at the light beam. "Go back to the Fairying Forest, you Fairy! Eric Forman—"
Eric sang again and curled his fingers. His pinky bone was visible beneath his lit-up skin, but his strange wound was the least of his worries. His head pounded with the Troll's heavy arm on him. He could barely move. Worse, his heart pounded with the fear Donna had already met Figblossom in the forest.