"But he who dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose."
― Anne Brontë
.
.
.
Alexandra spent the rest of the evening, through the night, and into the morning tearing through Kanjigar's library. It was an incredible collection – as vast and diverse as that of Blinky's brother's. There were anthologies of poems and sagas that Kanjigar liked –
- And damn, was it weird to think of Kanjigar in both past and present tense –
- and books of obscure lore; personal diaries of previous Trollhunters; the short, bloody journal of a Gumm-Gumm that ominously cut off in the middle of the page; several incongruous human comics and graphic novels; pages of construction details for pieces of Heartstone Trollmarket that Alex guessed Kanjigar had been helping with; letters from people who needed the Trollhunter's help, and from others thanking him; Supernatural-esque journals of how to defeat certain creatures; sixteen beautifully illustrated manuscripts, both human and troll; stone tablets covered in swirling carvings and indecipherable runes; the entire Lord of the Rings series and accompanying books; a bunch of rocks delicately carved with notes from a goblin spy; a page from what Alex really, really hoped was a Codex Regius; two books that she knew by smell were bound in human skin, and another that was bound in troll skin, which was as impressive as it was gruesome, because the troll would have had to have been alive at the time of the skin-removal; and a much-annotated list of children suspected stolen to the Darklands (her name wasn't on it), to name a few. It was heaven.
It was a Library of Alexandria, in a pocket dimension underneath a small California town. In fact, she was sure that one of the scrolls had come from the Library of Alexandria.
Blinky could spit in her face and kick one of her cats right now and she'd forgive him immediately.
She left only once, before getting too deep into anything, to get more lamps and a pot of tea, but as soon as she approached the first shelf she lost all sense of time.
Hopefully Kanjigar wouldn't mind her digging through his stuff, but if he did, it was too bad. She'd landed a punch on his chest and he was a fucking ghost, so he could deal with her reading his love letters to Draal's delightfully crude mother.
It was weird. She was looking through the personal items of a dead man, but a dead man who could still berate her for it.
This will be entertaining, Alexandra thought, deliberately setting her tea cup down on a hand-drawn journal of medicinal plants and tapping her feet to one of his Santana records. She got comfortable on Kanjigar's neatly-made bed, now stacked with disorganized books, and only was pried from the room when Blinky and AAARRRGGHH came to collect her mid-morning, bearing food and apologies.
She was in a good enough mood that Blinky was 'forgiven' for the whole Changeling debacle, and they finally put the incident aside and settled in the Forge for a proper training session.
Blinky was convinced that her sword skills, such as they were, would at least allow her to get away from her opponent. So, she was banned from using the sword for the next several sessions. His lessons instead included, but were not limited to: rock climbing, dodging fireballs, being attacked from all sides by larger opponents, being attacked from all sides by smaller opponents, and then archery, which she actually rather liked.
"Where in the hell would I need to know how to climb a damn rock?"
"Your fights will not be restricted to only Bular, Master Alexandra! What will you do if confronted, for example, by a hydrabeast? One cut, and you will have a multitude of opponents instead of just one!"
"Then I set it on fire."
"Where will you get matches," Blinky said dryly.
Alexandra dodged a rock, caught it, and threw it at his head.
"A hydrabeast has weaknesses under its scaly armor," Alex said, remembering her texts and making Blinky grin even as he ducked. "Strike when its scales are flared, and then kill it."
"Excellent, Master Alexandra! Just be sure to – "
Alex didn't hear his next words, as she was barreled over by a stone arm from behind.
"Ah. Yes. Do not get distracted while trying to think of how to defeat your opponent," Blinky said.
Alexandra huffed and picked herself up, throwing herself at a large blade as it flew past her. Digging her claws into the rock, she pulled herself to the top of the blade and ran along its flat edge, and then jumped onto a moving level when the blade reached its zenith.
"And…oof! You'll find all of these opponents in Arcadia?"
"Oh, surely not," said Blinky, as he activated another part of the Death Arena and forced her to dodge a swath of flaming arrows. One nicked the edge of a horn.
I swear if I lose another goddamn eye…
"You'll be hard-pressed to find a rust-troll or Batmugg here, but that does not mean that one may not come, or that you might not be called away to a different locale. As Trollhunter, your protection spreads over the whole of the human and troll worlds, and you most likely will have to travel extensively to fulfill your duties."
"Your domain stretches farther than Arcadia," said a whispy voice, one that Alex wasn't entirely sure was not in her head.
"Not you assholes again," she hissed, as the red of the Forge began to dim. She quickly jumped to the main floor and ran over to Blinky, surprising him when she grabbed him by the arms. Surely they wouldn't grab her and Blinky. The darkness and stars receded as quickly as they had appeared, and after a moment she let go of the other troll, who looked completely stunned.
"You were summoned?"
Alex nodded, still giving the Forge a look-over. When she glanced back at Blinky, he had his hands over his mouth and something suspiciously twinkling in his eyes.
"What?"
"The Trollhunters of old – they gave you council?"
"In…a manner of speaking," Alex murmured. In the distance, she heard the tapping of Vendel's staff. "They mostly insulted me and offered bad advice."
Blinky rolled his eyes.
"Only you, I believe, would take being summoned by our most esteemed warriors as a session of 'bad advice', and refuse another summons."
"I'm busy," Alex said, and threw her sword across the arena, where it lodged in the side of a stone statue's head.
"And you are about to become busier."
Alex and Blinky turned to the bridge, where Vendel was slowly making his way across. AAARRRGGHH was following him, looking unusually glum.
"Ah, Vendel! Perhaps you would like to see how our Trollhunter – "
"I know how she progresses," interrupted the larger troll, completely ignoring Blinky and standing directly in front of Alexandra. She refused to back down, even though his cataract-sprinkled eyes seemed to bore right through her.
"What I am interested in is how she manages on an actual assignment."
Blinky, not to Alexandra's surprise, did not argue but instead clutched his hands behind his back. She and he both knew that it was far past time for her to do some actual troll-hunting.
"Your physical training goes well, Trollhunter, but you must be able to assist in any situation. Many will not involve battles or fights, but will be tests of how you deal with people and how sound your judgement may be."
"What's the assignment," Alex asked. Vendel briefly looked over at Blinky.
"The Killahead Bridge, as you may know, was torn apart and scattered, to various locations around the world, some of which even I don't know about."
"Has something gone wrong," Blinky asked. Vendel nodded grimly.
"I have lost communications with one of my contacts in England. She was supposed to send me an updated census of trolls in the United Kingdom, but has not answered my letters or scrying-calls. I want our new Trollhunter to check on her and ensure that both her post and what she guards are secure."
Alexandra nodded, already gearing herself up for the assignment.
"Alright," she said. "Where in England does she live?"
"I have absolutely no idea."
.
.
I guess this is part of the test.
It certainly was going to be a test, because she and Blinky needed to go to the museum, and Alexandra had no idea if Nomura would be there or not. She hoped to hell that she didn't have to encounter the other Changeling, especially since Nomura would possibly recognize her.
Blinky wouldn't be swayed from accompanying her, and when AAARRRGGHH found out that his friend was going he decided that he was coming too, and Alexandra wanted to claw her eyes out. She could run a recon mission, but not with two other trolls, neither of whom was particularly good at being sneaky. She was feeling testy already.
The reason they had to go to the museum was to find some sort of text that hinted at locations of some of the Bridge's pieces. To prevent discovery or betrayal, there was nobody who actually knew the locations of more than a few pieces; instead, they knew where to find clues to some of the pieces. It was horrendously complicated and convoluted, but effective; in order to put together the bridge someone would have to go through dozens of people and go on hundreds of scavenger hunts. It wasn't efficient, but Alexandra could appreciate the complexity.
"Why not just smash the pieces," she muttered later that evening, when night had fallen and she, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH were scoping out the museum. "Just turn it to dust and scatter it on a beach somewhere. Boom. No need to guard fucking dust."
"The Killahead Bridge is an object of immense power," replied Blinky. "Each stone is seeped with magic. One cannot simply destroy it."
AAARRRGGHH, ineffectively hiding behind a short tree, nodded in agreement of his friend.
"Would if we could," he rumbled.
"Exactly. Now, should we proceed, Master Alexandra?"
Alex kept her eyes on the museum but nodded. She'd had them waiting and watching the place for almost two hours, just to see if anyone came or went, and since no one had shown she really couldn't put it off for much longer. Her lower hands worried over the loading of the little gun she'd brought, in case she needed to shoot Nomura in the face.
"Come on," she whispered, stowing it in her back pocket. "And stay quiet."
She led them around the back of the building. From her pocket she felt a little stone amulet, something Blinky had gotten for her from a shop. It was inscribed with a sigil that meant sight, and then violently chiseled over. Apparently it was supposed to cause any cameras to go dark in its presence, but Alexandra knew it was unnecessary. She'd only been to the museum once, but once had been enough to see that the cameras were not in operation. It was a good thought, though.
She jimmied open a window just barely large enough for her to fit through. She and Blinky had to find a door for AAARRRGGHH, which made her grit her teeth, but she stayed silent about his and Blinky's presences. Two of the doors were alarmed, but the third, a maintenance door hidden behind an over-crowded archiving room, was not. Together again, Alex led them silently through the halls, her ears strained for any sound. They turned the corner to a hallway under construction, and that's when the smell hit her.
Goblins.
It was faint – probably from the other end of the museum – but the scent was distinct and put her on edge. She backtracked and took them around another section of the building, going at an almost snail-like pace until they reached a small room dedicated to manuscripts. She shoved Blinky forward and he looked around before silently pointing at a large book under a glass case.
Luckily for them, the museum had been more concerned with architecture than security, and Alex lifted the glass case off without any alarms sounding. Blinky paged through the book, eyes roaming at impressive speeds, and Alex stood guard with AAARRRGGHH at the doorway.
She didn't like the presence of goblins here. When she first visited the museum over a year ago, they hadn't been in the museum, or at least she hadn't smelled any evidence of them. So it was a new development, and Alex wondered what had changed. Whatever it was and whatever Nomura was getting up to, it wouldn't be good for Trollmarket. Everything seemed to be happening in Arcadia; understandable, since it stood directly above the largest population of trolls in North America, but by Alexandra's count there were three changelings in the town, as well as goblins, and the son of Gunmar. Wherever Bular was, something important was happening. She knew that they were looking for ways to get the Bridge back together, but had they really found enough pieces to begin building?
The disappearance of Vendel's contact was an even worse omen if the actual rebuilding of the Bridge was becoming a reality.
A very soft aha drew Alex's attention away from the deserted hallway. Blinky had found what he needed.
Alex shushed him when he began to explain what he had found, and carefully replaced both the manuscript and the case it was under. The three of them tiptoed through the empty museum again and encountered nothing of concern, until the last hallway before the maintenance door.
The scent of Bular hit her like a brick to the face, and by the way AAARRRGGHH froze behind her she knew that he had recognized it, too.
And he was close.
Alex motioned for the others to stay still, smacking Blinky into submission when he kept gesturing for her to don her armor, and she crept forward into the hall, keeping close to the shadows and the walls. She wanted her armor too, but it was too shiny and it clanked to high hell.
A bright light flashed through a doorway at the end of the hall and Alex hastily beat a retreat, grabbing Blinky and AAARRRGGHH and rushing them as quickly as she could to the maintenance door. There was no was in hell that she was going to risk getting caught for the sake of checking that out. Whatever Bular was up to in the museum would have to be a mystery until Alexandra could come back without two huge liabilities walking around with her.
She refused to let them stop or speak until they were safely inside Trollmarket again, the portal shut behind them. A cold shiver ran through her shoulders even though she knew they had not been followed, and she shook it off with a huff, still creeped-out.
Blinky waited patiently for her to gather herself.
"Yes, Blinky, what did you find?"
"Have you ever heard of curse tablets?"
Alexandra, jumping down the crystal staircase, pursed her lips.
"No, I can't say that I have. What are they?"
"Well," Blinky began, climbing down behind her, "They are sheets of metal inscribed with a text, sometimes names, sometimes prayers, sometimes pleas for justice, that are buried or placed in tombs, or even occasionally tossed into wells. They originated in the Greco-Roman age, and the manuscript I found featured illustrations of several of them. One held an untranslated inscription thought to be a form of Celtic language; it is, in fact, Trollish."
"Ancient troll curse?" asked AAARRRGGHH as they made it to the bottom of the staircase.
"Indeed it was, although not so much as curse as a plea. It was incomplete, but from context I can infer that the words inscribed were 'may he never rise'. 'He', of course, is referring to Gunmar."
They scooted through Trollmarket for a minute, until Alexandra finally asked, "Alright, what the hell does that mean? Where is the stone?"
"The stone, Master Alexandra, is in Somerset, England," said Blinky triumphantly, walking ahead of her and turning them in the direction of the gyre portal. "In the waters of Sulis, in the valley of the river Avon and the Roman baths built thereupon!"
"Hate gyre," AAARRRGGHH muttered beside Alex.
.
.
Blinky loved the gyre. Where spars and fights thrilled others he just got tired and grumpy, but the gyre pumped his adrenalin and made him feel like he was flying. He felt a little bad because his friend loathed the experience so much and so he made up for it by not using the device nearly as often as he would have liked, but Alexandra seemed to get some enjoyment out of the turns and flips and immense speeds gained by the machine.
Their foray into the museum had not nearly been as exciting nor as dangerous as he had anticipated; he wished they could have stayed and explored a little longer – so many wonderful artifacts! – but Alexandra had been on edge the entire time and even AAARRRGGHH, who rarely had a problem being above ground, had tensed on the way back. Blinky had only figured out that the smell of strange troll had been Bular's scent later, when the excitement of figuring out the clue had faded slightly.
The gyre trip was relatively short, from California to Arizona, where they would catch a bridge to London.
The New London Bridge in Lake Havasu City, Arizona, was the only place where a troll could travel by bridge from North America to Europe. The bridge had originally been built over the Thames river before being sold and relocated to Arizona in the late 1960's. A new bridge had been built in its place over the Thames, and the two London Bridges shared a magical connection that allowed trolls to move between continents without having to resort to hiding away in a boat or a plane.
The actual crossing of the portal was one of the most interesting experiences Blinky had had in the whole century; the process was a mixture of a typical portal opening using a horngazel and something akin to Platform 9 ¾ from the Harry Potter series, hidden from human sight by use of the tunnels under the bridge. They emerged in the London underground just as night was beginning to fall, and they caught another gyre to the city of Bath in Somerset County.
AAARRRGGHH, who had never been to England apart from their initial crossing to the New World, was fascinated by the landscape and architecture they saw when they finally departed their gyre. Alexandra too looked around with interest, and Blinky wondered if she had ever left the United States. He himself had been to England a few times before the migration, but so many things had changed in the hundreds of years since that he recognized nothing.
.
.
They emerged from the underground just as the sun began to rise, which meant that they would have to wait the entire day before they could explore Bath. It was not a popular troll destination and did not have many places to stay the day, so they opted to remain in London until nightfall. Most of the underground was bedding down, but although Blinky found them temporary lodgings Alexandra was more interested in exploring than sleeping. Both Blinky – who had been recognized by several of the stall-keepers in the market that surrounded the portal – and AAARRRGGHH, who spent nearly an hour meeting-and-greeting with people who wanted to have a word with the famed former general, retreated to their rooms for some well-earned sleep. Alexandra watched them from the other side of the market, having ducked away as soon as they'd arrived. Blinky was everything but subtle, and she wanted to have a little time to herself before he outed her as the new Trollhunter.
The market was quite extensive. Built in the troll counterpart of a busy airport, it wasn't really as homey as Heartstone Trollmarket, but the stalls held a more international selection of cures and curios, and there was an immensely greater variety of trolls meandering about. She actually wandered past a group of her and Blinky's kin, but as they only spoke Norse and a universal Trollish, she didn't stay any longer than to say that she was from out of town and no, she wasn't kin to Edda's husband Ragnold.
Alexandra – who still didn't have any money, Trollhunting really didn't pay well at all – swapped her old, faded (vintage, she called it) sarong for an actual pair of pants, and traded in one of the hairballs she now hoarded for a small history book and the most recent edition of the troll equivalent of a newspaper.
For the first time, Alexandra found herself in the local watering hole, sitting by herself in a corner table with a drink of questionable palatability in a stone cup under her nose. She faintly remembered the foul smell of glog from her Darkland days and did not count herself lucky to have encountered it again, but it seemed like the popular drink of the establishment and she was trying to be popular-ish. Really, her head was pounding and she probably looked even more tired and disheveled than she felt, but hey. Effort. 'Be nice and a people person' was penciled into her schedule for the next millennium, or at as long as it took to get a decent reputation.
She probably looked unsociable, sitting alone with a book under her nose, but if she was going to be with these people, performing this role, living this life until she died, it was going to get very tiring to keep up an entirely fake persona, especially when that persona was supposed to be gregarious. When she first entered Trollmarket she had a distinct personality she had assumed, but keeping it up for the next forever was not something she was willing to continue.
She read for an hour or so, only getting up once to refill her disgusting drink. As far as bars went, it was a good one, quiet-ish and atmospheric.
A group of trolls at one of the middle tables kept giving her looks, their gazes moving from her freshly-scarred face up to her horns, down to her arms and the hand she was tapping on one knee. It had been a while since she'd been given a good appreciative glance. She wasn't sure exactly what passed as attractive for trolls, but since no one here yet knew her as Trollhunter and the group was staring at her biceps, she assumed that she made the bar.
Sorry, boys, Alex thought with a measure of amusement, I don't have a second of time for you.
She hadn't had a relationship in a while, but was not in need of one now. Another complication might just kill her.
Did trolls even do sex? She hadn't actually got to a book that really described the physical process of making whelps yet, a gap in her knowledge that, in relation to current events, was not actually important but seemed glaring anyway. She knew, at least, that there were 'gronk-nuks' and a need for some trolls to wear pants or loincloths, so there had to be some useful bits somewhere.
Considering that most trolls were seven feet or taller and nearly as broad, Alex wasn't quite sure if she really did or really did not want to know. The fact that she herself only wore a vest out of habit, not need, was a stark reminder of how little she knew of even her own anatomy.
Either way, she wouldn't be finding out from experience anytime soon, so unless she wanted to bug Kanjigar into giving her a horrendously awkward Talk she'd just have to guess.
It might annoy him, though…
Her growing amusement was interrupted by a presence at the end of her table; she looked up to see one of the males from the middle tables grinning at her.
"Enjoying your stay in London, love," he said in Trollish, standing in a posture that he probably thought was rather roguish.
Oh, Lord, it's like he looked it up in a book. 'How to be Creepy and Cliché, 101'.
"Until now," she replied sweetly, pointedly tapping a finger against the back of her book.
A female from his table egged him on, and he sat down in an unoccupied chair.
"No need to be like that, woman, I'm just trying to be friendly – "
Alexandra tossed down her book, grabbed him by the collar of his vest, and hauled him out of his chair, slamming his face against the table hard enough to cause it to crack. Spilled glog softly dripped on the floor. The bar was quieter, but not silent, clearly accustomed to rowdy patrons. The male's mouth was bleeding and he tried to pull away, but Alexandra had two extra arms and leverage, and he was pushed down again.
"So am I," she said in his ear. "But talk to me like that again and you'll see me be unfriendly."
He trembled against the table for an instant before she let him go, and as he tumbled to the floor Alex picked up her book, made an apologizing gesture to the annoyed barkeep, and settled back down to read, keeping one eye on the bleeding troll. She silently crowed in triumph as he massaged his jaw and stared at her. He was blushing greatly and Alex realized with a jolt that she had probably just done the troll equivalent of flirting outrageously. He watched her for another moment, his friends at his back shouting for him to try again, but he slowly retreated. Alex watched him down the rest of his drink and leave the bar.
She really was enjoying her stay in London.
Around nine in the morning she dragged herself into the city above, Changing quietly in the shadows before blending in seamlessly with the crowd of the Underground. The problem of money was resolved by pick-pocketing a tourist with a fanny pack, and she got a train to Bath, using the travel time to update her appearance.
The baths were unlike anything she had ever seen before, and part of her wanted to take a flying leap into the green waters. The rising sun was at an angle to perfectly illuminate the yellowed stone walls, casting deep shadows into corners. Outside there was a bit of morning traffic, but in the baths it was quiet, and peaceful, with only a few human voices mingling with the sound of flaming torches and rushing water. A few pigeons cooed as they bathed themselves, and from the top Alex could see a magnificently built cathedral. She felt peaceful – but she couldn't just perambulate with no rhyme or reason; she had a job to do.
The baths seemed innocuous enough, but she scoured the place for any sign of troll or Changeling activity. She knew there was at least one troll around – Vendel's contact, who had gone missing – but she didn't know if the woman stayed in the baths or if she lived elsewhere. There was a faint trollish smell in some of the quieter rooms; the shadowed nooks and rising steam actually made very good cover for any troll working around, especially in the East baths and changing rooms, but whoever Vendel's friend was, she was good – Alex didn't see a single trace of troll. Considering that the woman was missing, that could be a very good or very bad thing.
"Gunmar wafa prieklan," she muttered to herself whenever she passed an employee of the Baths, giving them a knowing look as she did so. Most of them smiled politely and moved on, but the receptionist in the tiny gift shop snapped her eyes on Alex and sharply grinned.
"Gunman wafa prieklan," she replied, putting down her western romance. Alex briefly allowed her eyes to glow. She's put on a new face on the train, wrapped in a floral scarf and with pigtails, jeweled glasses, and a small gap painted between her front teeth with ink from a pen she'd eaten, and with a Welsh accent she was the picture of a country-girl touring the city.
"Stricklander sent me," she said, casting a brief glance to the door before leaning on the counter.
"He is anxious to make sure all loose ends are tied up. Are you sure every troll is accounted for?"
The other Changeling nodded, lightly fingering her necklace of beads. Alex noted that several of them looked to be carved out of teeth. Jesus.
"There were only the two," she said, "And our spy overcame them easily enough. There's not much you can do against a horde of angry goblins."
Alex, who had known a horde of angry goblins, nodded in agreement.
"There's also the matter of the stone…"
The other Changeling allowed her eyes to flash in annoyance.
"I'll find it when I find it," she said. "There's only so much information you can get out of a corpse."
"Which is why I'm here," said Alexandra. "Stricklander is very insistent about getting the stone as soon as possible."
"What, he can't be arsed to come and get it himself?"
"He's too important, the bloody twmffat."
They shared a mutual grin. Nobody liked Stricklander, who was more pompous than a peacock and enjoyed pretending that he was the boss. Alex was glad that most Changelings had an immediate comradery, born of being the outcasts of both worlds. They'd happily stab each other in the backs at a moment's notice when it became necessary, but until then any Changeling was as good as family as soon as they met.
"I've got until tonight," Alexandra said. "Information from one of our spies says that a delegation from Trollmarket will be coming around. They've noticed the absence of their contact here."
The Changeling cursed, quietly and fervently.
"I can't get my information organized that quickly," she hissed. "Is this someone we can take out?"
Alex shook her head.
"They've got the general AAARRRGGHH with them," she said. The Changeling paled. "That's the only one I know of for sure. There are two or three others."
A pair of tourists came in then, giggling about the taste of the spring's water. Alex gave them a smile and turned back to her fellow.
"Is there somewhere we can meet for lunch?"
.
.
.
.
It was nearing nightfall before she got back on the train, her head buzzing with information but her heart heavy with guilt.
She never used to be guilty about killing someone. It was always a necessity, for safety or secrecy – as this murder was as well, but she still felt bad.
In her defense, she had tried. She'd told the Changeling – Emma Anglia – that she was working for the Trollhunter, that Gunmar's rise would bring nothing toward the improvement of Changelings' lives, that there was a place for her in Trollmarket.
She had a sizable cut down her breastbone from Anglia's reaction, and a shoulder that had been wrenched when the woman had thrown her against the wall of an alleyway. The killing looked like a mugging gone wrong; Alex still had the woman's wallet, but she'd thrown the earrings and necklace into the river. Anglia's address was in the phone book and Alexandra had taken a look around, but there were only a few bits of paper and keepsakes in the hideaways she'd found.
Anglia's verbal information, however, was startling. Alex knew that Bular was looking for the pieces of the Killahead Bridge, certainly, but she hadn't known that they'd gathered enough to start building. And they were building it in Arcadia; no wonder there were so many Changelings about. It was rare to see two or more Changelings in a single state, let alone one town. This was very bad.
Anglia had had a fetch in her apartment, tucked away in a chamber only another Changeling could access. Alexandra spent two hours copying the woman's handwriting before she sent a message through it, saying that she – Anglia – had received warning of a delegation from Trollmarket coming to investigate the disappearances of the trolls in Bath, and she had to run before she found the stone. It would keep Stricklander from sending anyone else for a while, and Anglia's lack of communication would not be suspicious.
Alexandra got back to the London trollmarket and her temporary lodgings as night fell, and collapsed on her bed about a half hour before AAARRRGGHH dragged her back out.
"You look quite tired, Master Alexandra," commented Blinky as she quaffed down an enormous mug of Turkish coffee which had been spiked with what smelled like lighter fluid.
"I'm good," she replied, although her arms were beginning to shake. "Let's get going."
.
.
.
.
A/N: Got a few more references to the book in here. I love Blinky in that book; he's even more verbose than he is in the show, and is delightfully and unintentionally rude, and is just as overdramatic as show!Blinky.
Fuck this was longer than I expected. I researched the shit out of ancient witchcraft and spells and the Roman Baths, which I only picked because I wanted to write about something I'd actually been to so as to make it more realistic, and now I know to how to find the difference between California and London time and more about the London Bridge(s) than I ever needed to know. It's true, though, that they shipped and rebuilt the bridge from London to Arizona.
The thing about the curse tablets is true; there are many found in the Roman Baths in Bath, England, and a couple of them feature the only examples of written Celtic text, inscribed with Roman letters but in an untranslatable language. For the sake of this story I'm gonna call it Trollish.
The Roman Baths were really cool and we got to drink a little water from one of the springs there and I loved the architecture and the caves.
I hope you enjoyed the paragraph of library p0rn, because I sure loved writing it.
Going to have to split this up into two chapters, because I'm exhausted and don't have the brain-space to keep writing for now. Sorry this took so long, but I've been a$$-fucked by work and school and there wasn't room or time to write. Hopefully we'll be hiring someone soon, so I'll actually have days off again.
And I hope everybody enjoyed the eclipse! I went upstate to my favorite city and got to see totality! It was cloudy, for the most part, but still really, really cool and special.