"Do you want my opinion? The self-centered Arthurian prick has screwed, that's for sure…" Zoe drawled as she had listened to Archie's report. Douxie groaned - everything had suddenly become too complicated.
A human Trollhunter. Who could imagine that twist? Though Merlin could possibly know - the Time map gave quite a lot of insight about possibilities, even if those had been just glimpses.
"So, what now?" the cat inquired, looking at his friends. Douxie suddenly realized that both of his companions were waiting for his decision. Well, hadn't he been their informal leader for years?
Perhaps, it had been the right time to take the initiative.
"We should approach James Lake," the young man said after giving it some consideration. "He'll need every possible support… Archie, what can you say about him?"
To be honest, the wizard-in-training didn't expect much in any case. A teen of the modern era would mean nearly granted absence of any battle experience. The addition of the enemy side, which would never wait for the Trollhunter to get any proper training, created a grim picture.
"Not a chance even against some of his peers," the familiar's verdict sounded quite harsh, but it wasn't like they had to find any nice words here. "I've seen him challenging some local bully… Let's say, our Trollhunter simply got lucky to get unscathed…"
"At least, he has guts," Zoe shrugged. "Though I wonder if it's enough to fight evil trolls…"
"Archie, are you sure that no one from Bular's party has gotten the news?" Douxie inquired after giving it some thought.
"No one from that side knows, only us and the Trollmarket, I guess," the cat nodded.
"What do you plan to do?" the witch looked at her friends. Personally, she had only a vague idea about possible actions. Perhaps, it would be useful to gather some intel on that James Lake. Some people at Hex Tech could help with that.
"First, talking to the Trollhunter," Douxie replied. "I bet he has at least some idea about his role right now, so there's less to explain for us… And after that, we have to focus on the united front defense."
"Buying time until the kid is ready to fight?" Archie drawled. "For how long can we stall, by the way?"
The familiar was right - there were too many factors to take into account. Of course, James Lake most likely had enough common sense not to assault Bular head-on, but it didn't mean that the son of Gunmar wouldn't turn the entire Arcadia upside-down in a search for his enemy.
Besides, there was still that suspicion about some allies covering for the dark prince. Those would certainly have more than enough resources to find the human Trollhunter.
Perhaps, there wouldn't be that much bought time in any case, but was it wise to give up without trying?
Everything just kept falling apart. Barverra sighed as she sat perched on a tree branch. Had she lost her grip or something? The old her would have been gathering as much intel as possible at the moment, instead of wasting precious time.
The more she thought, the clearer it became that the daughter of Gunmar kept stalling her father's return. She couldn't continue like that. What if the new Trollhunter was some battle or tactical genius who could crush the Gumm-Gumm party for good? No matter how far-fetched, it was still within the possibility.
The evident enemies aside, there was also the inside opposition. Barverra gritted her teeth, remembering about Stricklander. The impure was surprisingly persistent when it came to finding her current hiding spot. The daughter of Gunmar had already caught and killed several spies trying to tail her. The last one she had beaten to half-death, leaving the changeling right at Stricklander's doorstep. Though she doubted that the Head of the Janus Order would take that kind of hint and give up on his pointless pursue. No, that guy would continue, that was for sure.
In a way, that kind of battle was rather amusing. If it involved Barverra only, she wouldn't mind playing along for a while. But the thing was that Jim's safety was also at stake. And that wasn't something the daughter of Gunmar would ever put at risk.
There was no point in brooding at this spot. The morning would come soon, and she still had to return home after checking if there were any spies. Combining two lives continued to be an extremely troublesome task…
When Barbara had finally gotten home, the sun was up in the sky. The mother expected to see Jim in the kitchen like usual, greeting her with a bright smile, so it was slightly weird not to see him there. The teen wasn't in his bedroom as well.
Some worry started to overcome the woman when she had heard some noise downstairs.
The basement? Barbara could swear that her son wasn't too eager to go there. Apparently, she was wrong as Jim nearly bumped at her while leaving it in haste.
"Oh, hi, mom! Haven't heard you coming back," the teen smiled. Too nervously for her liking. The mother could see that something was seriously off with his body language. It was as if the boy tried to hide something. He also seemed too excited… Or was excited the right word?
"Jim, you ok?" Barbara inquired with some concern. The basement had a connection to that incident with his father. Yes, apparently, her son didn't remember a thing, but what if something had triggered those long-buried memories.
"Who? Me? I'm perfectly right!"
No, he certainly was too jittery for no reason.
"It's just something really weird happened downstairs," Jim suddenly added with some doubt.
"How so?" the woman raised her eyebrows, feeling some uncomfortable knot in her stomach. Weird was never good news. What if her son had discovered something supernatural?
Why now?
"Well, I've heard some noise and gone to check… And there were those…" the teen stopped abruptly.
"Those?"
"Raccoons! Yes, raccoons!" Jim's tone changed all of a sudden. "Can you imagine that they infiltrate basements now?"
It made no sense. There was no way that her son would be that nervous about some pests, meaning…
No, Jim would never lie to her. He always entrusted his secrets to his mother…
Jim left the house in haste soon after the breakfast. His excuse was that he didn't want to get late, but the truth was that the boy simply ran away after lying to his mother. It left the horrible taste, and he still mentally cringed at the memory of that failed talk.
But how could it be another way? How could he tell Barbara about two trolls trespassing because the teen was their protector or something? Everything still felt like a horribly illogical dream. Except the teen had actually spent the night in the basement.
Jim first thought had been about sharing everything with Toby - wasn't he the only one who would listen to everything even if it made no sense?
Alas, his best friend was not available to talk about all the stuff. The plump teen's main priority at the moment was his struggle with his orthodontist. Not that Jim could blame him for that - Tobes simply had no idea how huge the previous night's discovery had been.
In the end, he could easily wait, but...
Okay, whom he tried to fool - he needed to talk to anyone right now, otherwise, he would burst. Of course, during such situations, Toby had always been his first choice, but he wasn't the only one.
The second one would be his mother - they were close family, a team of two, and trusted each other wholeheartedly.
Barbara would never think her son was crazy if he started talking about trolls and...
Are you really going to put such a burden on her shoulders?
The inner voice was definitely against that. How many troubles had his mom got by this point? She had been overworking lately. Was her son really going to add more stress into her life?
She doesn't deserve that.
Jim made an oath a long time ago to become a protector for his mother, even if she wasn't too happy about that.
In any case, the teen wasn't going to tell Barbara anything about weird occurrences last night.
There was another person Jim could always ask for advice - hadn't Mr. Strickler just recently reminded him about that?
The day hadn't started too well for Walt - first, he got a report that Bular had butchered some campers at night, which would need a lot of time and resources to cover properly.
Why couldn't that imbecile just stay put? Was that so difficult?
Then Nomura called reporting that the Herald of Doom visited the museum at night and left abruptly without bothering about any explanation. Barverra the Atrocious just continued to be as unpredictable as ever. Strickler just wished he had at least some control over that female's actions. Of course, the daughter of Gunmar would never cause any mess, but the Head of Janus Order also had no idea what was going on in her mind. She could always snap his neck out of whim and face no repercussions.
It didn't help that all the recent attempts to pinpoint Barverra's lair ended in failure. Walt had lost some of the goons he could use without consequences. Continuing with the same tactics would mean wasting his precious resources. Not to mention that the daughter of Gunmar had sent him a gift in the form of a barely alive subordinate. Apparently, Stricklander would have to choose a different approach.
But seriously, that family only kept causing the winged changeling a major headache.
Sometimes the man felt that he would have preferred to work for his own ambitions. Wouldn't it be so much easier just to let Bular and Barverra do whatever they wanted, leaving them altogether? The plan would have never reached the current level of completion without the Janus Order, but those two would never acknowledge that simple and obvious truth. So they could try to continue alone, with their tyrannical father struck in the Darklands for all eternity.
Yes, that was surely a tempting thought, but Stricklander was well aware that it was impossible to do that. Both of Gunmar's children would start hunting him restlessly the moment they heard about his treachery, most likely, also making his punishment as horrifying as possible to set an example for everyone else.
So, after abandoning all thoughts about betrayal, Walter Strickler at least tried to get some rest at his 'daytime' work. He had a comfy office, after all, decorated to his own taste, even though some criticized his choices.
And some orchestral music as the background noise definitely helped to relax - he definitely had to thank Nomura for suggesting that one some time ago.
Blessed solitude.
It didn't last for too long though as a student peeked into the office. Mr. Strickler recognized him at once - it wasn't like that teen was a rare visitor.
No, James Lake Jr. was coming pretty regularly to talk about various stuff - any time when he needed an adult male opinion. Something that other kids would discuss with their fathers.
Not that the changeling ever minded - being a father figure worked perfectly for him. Through decades of teacher work, there had been several teens with similar circumstances, and those had always ended as the most convenient chess pieces.
"Ah, hello, Jim. What can I do for you?" Strickler greeted the boy cordially. Well, he also could use some unrelated talk right now.
"Um, do you have a minute?" Jim asked reluctantly.
Always so polite. Sometimes, too much.
The kid should have tried to show more confidence sometimes - he had that in him, after all.
"Are you all right? You look peaked," the teacher inquired carefully, turning off the music and offering the teen a seat. It was clear as a day that something had happened. Jim had never been that good in hiding his emotions, so his anxiety showed.
The boy entered, took a deep breath, and started:
"Okay. I don't really know how to say this, but last night, something incredible happened."
The initial slight shyness disappeared entirely quite soon. There was some restlessness and even excitement instead - it felt in everything, be it the intonation of the kid's voice, his gestures, or even the fact that he was struggling with adjusting the stool's height instead of just sitting down. Strickler wondered what exactly was that incredible. Adolescents tended to overreact all the time.
"Actually, unbelievable. Completely unbelievable," Jim sat down for a brief second - and immediately returned to messing with the stool.
Too much excitement, that's for sure.
"As in, you won't believe me, but I'm telling you it's true," his speech became way faster. "I promise you it's true."
Honestly, the changeling seriously doubted him - this pure teen had no idea how much stuff his teacher had actually seen and heard. It was rather difficult to surprise him by this point, besides, he had no doubt that the unbelievable event was relatively trivial, only slightly above the norm.
Human kids and their exaggerations.
"All right. Just calm down. I'll believe you," the man stopped the teen, feeling that it could easily continue for a while without getting to the point.
A part of him was a bit curious though - what if Jim could actually tell something unbelievable even to him?
"Uh, okay," now it started to look like the teen was trying to pick up words carefully. That was weird - the changeling expected him to continue in the same overexcited tone, but instead saw some reluctance.
"Last night, two, um, things showed up at my house."
"Things?" the man asked. That was quite a peculiar choice of words. Things? Jim was quite a polite boy, so calling someone a thing would be out of the question for him. Or not?
"You know, things. Guys. But really weird," the teen made a full turn on the stool. "One had these eyes and the other one was huge and hairy."
So the visitors had an unusual appearance and probably scared the kid or something.
"And they said that they were tro..." Jim suddenly stopped mid-word.
"Tro...?" Strickler inquired, mentally trying to remember all words starting with that.
Trombone players?
Trowels sellers?
Troglodytes? Well, big and hairy could fit.
Trolls would be the most obvious answer, but there was no way that some trolls would ever visit a fleshbag. Well, Bular could, but that always left a huge mess.
"Tr... Trainers! Trainers, who want to train me in... chess," Jim suddenly answered eagerly. Too eagerly.
It was obviously 'tro' not 'tra' before.
Had the teen changed his decision out of the blue and decided to lie about the rest? Everything so far seemed to be true, but that response with 'trainers' was too off, too false.
An experienced liar like Strickler could tell for sure that the kid was hiding something.
Was he actually going to say 'trolls'? That was simply impossible.
I work too much.
Overworking and seeing trolls everywhere made more sense. Without any doubt, there were some other 'tro' which would be too embarrassing to mention or something. Or Strickler could have misheard. Or Jim could have made a mistake because he talked too fast.
Maybe there had been some actual chess trainers visiting the teen.
"And why would that have you so perturbed?" the teacher asked - he had lost any actual interest by this point and simply was playing the role of concerned adult. Whatever had happened to his student, that wasn't his problem.
"They really weirded me out," Jim chuckled nervously. He wasn't facing Strickler, preferring to move to the window, examining chess board and pieces on it.
He was lying. The changeling was skilled enough at reading people to tell that for sure. Those visitors had nothing to do with chess, though to be honest, it didn't change a thing in his eyes. The only upsetting point would be that the boy didn't trust his teacher enough to tell him everything, so he would need to work in that direction more.
"Now, I think I know what has you so distraught, Jim," it was the proper time for some wise life advice. That would win Strickler more trust points for sure.
"You do?" there was some surprise in the boy's voice.
Seriously, teens underestimated the importance of life experience too often for his liking.
The teacher stood up, approaching his student slowly:
"It's like I told you yesterday, you have a lot on your shoulders. Too much, in my opinion, for someone your age."
That was definitely the kid's biggest problem - he had quite an alarming tendency to take more burdens than he could ever shoulder.
Like Atlas holding the entire skydome.
That was a little nickname the changeling had for Jim. Yep, this boy had definitely become one of his favorites - Stricklander only gave mythology-based nicknames to those who he put above others.
"And I think this opportunity..." the man took the chess piece from the teen's hand.
"Chess?" Jim asked.
Still sticking to that version, I see.
"I think it's causing you anxiety," Strickler continued while putting the piece back on the board. "I know, you want to be there for your mother, but it's as a great poet once wrote, 'Do what's good for you, or you're not good for anybody'."
By this point, the man was sure that he understood the situation perfectly. Some weirdos visited Jim yesterday, proposed to him something that he truly liked - not chess, most likely, - but the kid was not sure what to say them back because... His mother would probably not approve or, perhaps, he felt like that activity would eat up too much time so that he wouldn't be able to help her as much as before. The changeling was nearly one hundred percent sure in the second one.
Young Atlas really needed to be at least a bit selfish sometimes. Otherwise, he could easily crumble underneath his burden.
The school bell rang, interrupting the conversation.
"Hey, thanks for the advice. I like talking to you," the boy said and headed out. It seemed that whatever was going in his head before, he got his answer now.
"Always," the changeling definitely had reached his own goal in getting some trust as well - if the teen enjoyed talking to him, he would certainly come again.
And then the man suddenly had noticed that.
For a second Stricklander couldn't believe his own eyes - did he overwork or something? Yet, it was there, glowing from his student's open bag as if in some kind of taunt. The vital piece to the Killahead bridge restoration plan, something that Bular had been failing to retrieve for centuries.
The Daylight Amulet - both the strongest weapon against Gunmar and his goons and the key to his prison. The changeling had seen its drawing too often to make any mistake.
Nothing made any sense. The amulet should have been in possession of the Trollhunter. Was it possible to lose it? The kid could have found it somewhere on his way to school then.
No. That would have been too stupid, and the head of Janus Order was more than sure that Merlin would have never left such an opening for his artifact to end in the wrong hands.
Then...
Bular had killed Kanjigar. That could be the only answer. And it had happened not this night, but the one before it - that was why that brainless brute hadn't returned to the museum and caused another bloodshed somewhere instead. That was quite typical for the son of Gunmar to deal with his frustration that way - and he had to be furious after not getting the amulet again.
There were still many blank points, but Stricklander guessed that Jim had been passing through the supposed place of the Trollhunter's death and stumbled upon a peculiar object. Would that make the boy the next Trollhunter?
No way.
Probably that was a kind of protective mechanism, and Atlas would simply end bringing the amulet to the place where the rightful successor could get it. There had never been any human Trollhunter.
Wait, no, something refused to add up, and the teacher realized what exactly soon enough. Hadn't the teen just come to him telling about two unusual strangers visiting him last night?
The boy had called them things. One had something weird with eyes, another was big and hairy.
He might have changed to trainers fast enough, but initially, he was going to tell the word starting with 'tro'.
Trolls. Trolls had been the ones visiting, and that was definitely both 'incredible' and 'completely unbelievable', unlike 'chess trainers'.
Jim had been too anxious - well, anyone would be after encountering a mythical being - but also lost.
His visitors mostly had told him something about his possible role, meaning that they had acknowledged the teen as the Trollhunter.
Yes, there had been no doubt in that, now that the changeling thought about everything calmly. But what would it mean for him?
A lot, actually, as he suddenly realized. There was no way that the imbecile Bular had any idea about the new foe, otherwise the kid would have never survived until this moment. No matter how and when the succession happened, the son of Gunmar had seen nothing. And neither had his sadistic sister, who, without any doubt, hadn't been present. She was smart enough to make such a silly mistake, Stricklander knew that one for sure.
It was surprisingly ironic how fate suddenly turned to the changeling's side - after all, he was the only one well aware of the new Trollhunter's identity. He could still earn his position as a more prominent piece in the Gunmar's forces. After all, in chess, even a pawn was capable to be promoted to a queen.
Another night, another fake night shift, another reason for Jim to worry. Her dear boy looked so restless and anxious today, even though he tried his best to hide that.
Barverra was seriously annoyed by this turn of events and hoped it to end soon. At least Bular knew better than opening his mouth and simply led her to the canal, showing her the place of battle.
Some scattered remains and no amulet, as expected.
The female troll looked up at the bridge. It was pure madness to imagine that someone would commit such a horrifying suicide. And for what? For an enchanted piece of metal? For a delay to a mortal enemy return?
That definitely required a lot of willpower. The daughter of Gunmar wondered if she could do something like that.
She wouldn't do that for any physical object, that was for sure, and the encounter with Kanjigar some years ago had proved out that she wasn't ready to throw away her life for the sake of an enemy's defeat.
Yet...
If there was a choice between her life and Jim's, Barverra wouldn't even think twice.
Meanwhile, Bular was roaming up and down the canal as if hoping for the next Trollhunter to appear and fight him. Not that it was going to happen in any case. Unless the new protector wasn't that bright as well.
"Any luck?" the daughter of Gunmar asked, approaching her brother. "Some scents, perhaps?"
"Only fleshbag ones," the male troll spat. "How many of those could possibly go through this spot?"
There were too many human trails, that was for sure. Barverra even picked up Jim's scent, so dear, warm, and homely. Her boy also used this shortcut regularly. If only he had any idea what exactly was going on here during nights.
But no, his mother continued keeping him in the dark.
It's for better. I'll tell him after we deal with the Trollhunter.
That was the silent promise, this time the daughter of Gunmar had decided on that for sure. There would be no other excuses anymore.
"I wish we knew who exactly the new enemy is," Barverra muttered. "We could find some strategy to lure them in that case..."
She had run through names of all more or less significant trolls she knew. Most of those had already been Merlin's champions at some point and met their deaths.
"It can be the son of Kanjigar," Bular guessed.
"Oh, I bet you'd prefer that one!" his sister snapped. "Because that one would be the only person with a wish to fight you right away, blinded by his wish to avenge his father and restore family honor! Everyone else would easily stay underground laughing at your stupidity!"
Bular definitely wished to say something back but refrained. He couldn't stand critics, but when it came to his family members, the black troll was willing to listen.
"No point on hanging here," the daughter of Gunmar pointed out. "Better to go to the museum and think about our next action."
"Are you going to tell those impure?" the dark prince growled.
"They'll learn the truth soon enough in any case," Barverra shrugged. She wasn't a big fan of involving Stricklander and the Janus Order, but it wasn't like changelings could stay in the dark forever. Hell, there was a huge possibility that they already knew and that smug winged bastard would meet both of them with some barely hidden gloating.
Her hunch turned out to be one hundred percent true. The Head of Janus Order obviously had been waiting for them both to come, his eyes full of glee.
The man definitely didn't beat around the bush, stating calmly:
"I assume, Kanjigar was slain."
Bular glowered at him but stayed silent, noticing his sister's hardly noticeable gesture.
"And the amulet has been taken," Stricklander continued, fully aware how much it annoyed both Gumm-Gumms. "You failed. You let it go. Your father will be displeased".
The son of Gunmar roared, losing the patience. Barverra could swear if he was allowed, he would definitely rip the changeling to pieces. The only thing stopping him was his sister standing between him and his offender.
"Whoever holds the Amulet of Merlin, I shall destroy him, just as I have done with every single one of them," the black troll stated firmly and retreated into the other room, not wanting to get any more sneers from the hateful impure.
Barverra stayed, examining Stricklander with some interest. He definitely had known something, something more than both of them, and it gave him a lot of confidence.
The only thing that could count for that would be the identity of the current Trollhunter. Yes, there was no doubt of that. If the impure had simply learned about Kanjigar's death and that the amulet had been taken by an unknown party, he would never dare to infuriate Bular with the reminder of his failure.
No, there was definitely a hint of 'you've failed, yet I can make everything right' in his entire demeanor. Barverra would give that to Stricklander - he knew how to make himself the most important piece that couldn't be sacrificed.
"So," she drawled after the pause, "I assume, you know, who our next foe is."
The changeling looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and respect. Sometimes, he couldn't deny that the female was too enticing - he hated her guts with passion, she was too sadistic, too unpredictable, too dangerous... Yet, the daughter of Gunmar also possessed some qualities he could appreciate - she was intelligent, independent, and wasn't a stranger to strategic planning. That was a weird feeling, honestly, and it confused Stricklander to the extreme. In any case, he was not going to let it stand in the way of his planning.
Right now, the changeling had a hold on the ultimate trump card - not only he knew the true identity of the Trollhunter, but he also had won some trust from the boy. The key to success was that the enemy was both young and human - something that would leave a lot of space for manipulation.
The Head of Janus Order expected the teen to crumble soon after realizing the mortifying reality. Young Atlas may have been brave, but bravery alone was not enough for facing huge monsters who could crush him without any hesitation. Jim would run looking for help. His mother would be out of the question - the kid would never dare to burden her with something that huge. His best friend Domzalski? No, the teen would need an actual adult. And then the understanding and benevolent Mr. Strickler would enter the stage, relieving the poor boy of something too much for him to handle.
The plan was impeccable and foolproof, leaving all the honor of freeing Gunmar to Stricklander. That was the chance he needed.
Now, only if he could keep away both of the dark overlord's children. Bular would be more or less easy - he could even be an unwilling accomplice if he got an opportunity to terrify Young Atlas enough. Barverra, on the other hand... The changeling didn't want to see her anywhere close. Her methods, according to rumors, would leave way more mess.
"Perhaps, I know," he started slowly, carefully picking each word. Outright denial could mean certain death - the man was playing with fire here as the daughter of Gunmar was as short-tempered as the majority of her kind. But admitting it too fast wouldn't be the best strategy as well - Stricklander was trying to trick her into allowing him to act without her interference.
"Don't play these games with me, impure," Barverra growled impatiently. "You know for sure. I have no idea how you've managed that, but it doesn't matter. Just give me the name of the troll - this time we'll be dealing with the Trollhunter my way. I've left it without proper supervision for too long!"
She was greatly annoyed. On her way to the museum, the Herald of Doom had considered all the options and come to the conclusion that she would need to put more effort into recovering the amulet. The situation threatened to grow too unstable by this point.
Stricklander smirked - of course, she expected a troll. Anyone would think the same. Even he couldn't have believed his own eyes when he had seen the desired artifact in his student's bag.
"What if the Trollhunter isn't a troll this time?" he inquired, savoring the moment.
"Who then? A goblin?" the female scowled. "Don't try to be funny here, impure, or I may think that you don't need your wings anymore!"
Yes, he had definitely overstepped the boundaries with that question. There was no point in dragging it anymore.
"A human," the answer was short, but the reaction on it was priceless. Stricklander could imagine that he was the first one who managed to leave the fearsome Herald of Doom speechless.
Surprisingly, her eyes were pretty emotive - how had he failed to notice it before? In some brief seconds, disbelief there changed with skepticism followed by annoyance, then anger, and it ended with more disbelief.
"A fleshbag?" Barverra asked, finally getting a hold of her emotions. That was too ridiculous. Yet, that would make the perfect sense. Rather than Bular being too slow to recover the amulet in time, a human had taken it during the day.
That would also explain how the changeling knew about the succession of their mortal enemy's mantle. He had encountered the new Trollhunter at some point. If that had been a human, they would have been rather careless and probably had been demonstrating the peculiar finding left and right.
Stricklander decided that it was a great time for the proper strike. There was no way that the proud daughter of Gunmar would lower herself to hunting some fleshbag, even if that one was the Trollhunter. Bular could, but only because his rage caused by the recent failure was more powerful than his pride. That would create the perfect position for all the pieces.
"It's one of my students," the man said carefully. "I know the boy well enough, and he trusts me, so I ask you to leave dealing with this matter to me. When it comes to humans, I'm a more logical choice."
Yes, that one should have been perfect. The changeling already imagined Barverra begrudgingly agreeing with him. Instead, he nearly jumped back, when he had noticed her furious expression.
"The name," she demanded with authority fitting her heritage. The woman couldn't allow that - if the Trollhunter was one of the impure's students, that would mean that entire fight would get too close to Jim's school.
The mother would never agree to anything that created even the slightest danger to her boy. That meant only one thing - she would be the one dealing with the Trollhunter.
"Is the name even important to you?" Stricklander still couldn't get the reason for her sudden rage. "Aren't all the fleshbags basically the same to someone of your ilk?"
The changeling wondered if Barverra's pride was damaged that much that she had abandoned any common sense. That was the reaction more fitting for Bular. There was definitely something more to it, however, before the man managed to make any guess, he felt a sword pressing to his neck.
So now, the daughter of Gunmar proceeded to violence. Stricklander felt that he had to tread carefully from now on.
"I have my methods," the female hissed. "And I'll be able to find the Trollhunter if I have his name."
The realization of her own grave mistake came too late - she had just gone and spilled the beans about her own connections in human society. The Head of Janus Order wasn't that dumb to miss it - he had already noticed. It was rather clear from his expression.
Stricklander couldn't believe his own luck meanwhile - so many efforts in finding Barverra's hiding place were in vain, yet now he got a vital lead without even trying.
No wonder, that he wasn't able to discover anything - the daughter of Gunmar was hiding using some human help. Or at least someone who could blend into the open society. That could be a changeling, for example, perhaps even someone from the Janus Order - Stricklander could imagine that some of his opponents could try to win Barverra's favor.
But no, if that was the case, his own head would leave the neck a long time ago as the supposed rival would take over his position.
That would leave magic users - a lot of those held deep grudges against humanity after all - or perhaps some regular fleshbag. A madman or just someone naive enough to shelter the literal monster.
In any case, that would allow Barverra to find a person having the name only. This fact alone changed the entire situation drastically. She had no reason to let Stricklander do all the work without her involvement, quite the contrary, she would most likely totally sideline him.
The only trump card left was the name - and they both knew that for sure. It alone was the strongest guarantee for the impure's survival.
'He'll never give me the true answer,' Barverra thought grimly. His response would be either silence or blatant lie - as long as the Head of Janus Order was the only one with that knowledge, he was basically untouchable.
"I'm waiting," she drawled, but her blade returned to its sheath - a good sign that the female troll had calmed down significantly. There was no space for mistake here anymore.
Stricklander tensed - he was basically walking along the edge right now, though death wasn't breathing down his neck anymore. Everything would depend on the next response.
He could stay silent and, despite it provoking another rage fit from the daughter of Gunmar, it wouldn't create any risk. Still, the female troll would certainly follow him like a shadow afterward until she learned the Trollhunter's identity.
The man could also give her a wrong name putting her on the false trail and winning some time for himself to snatch the amulet from Jim.
Wait, that one wouldn't work. Barverra expected lies from the changeling, so she wouldn't even check the one he would put as a sacrificial piece.
Exactly.
There was still the option that would give Stricklander the most time while annihilating all the risks. Reverse psychology was a thing, in the end. He could simply tell the truth, and the Herald of Doom wouldn't believe him in any case. She would be checking everyone but Young Atlas. Moreover, if she actually stumbled upon the boy at some point, no one could question the winged changeling and his loyalty.
That was a gambit, but it was worth the effort.
"I assume, with the way you deal with problems, you'd prefer to learn more about the child," he started with a smirk. The more Barverra found him suspicious, the better his plan would work.
The daughter of Gunmar scowled, not liking the smug expression. That bastard definitely was scheming something. Without any doubt, he would frame someone else, throwing some innocent child into the monsters' claws.
She already felt slightly sorry for that one. Centuries ago, the female would have ripped that fleshbag apart just in case. Yet nowadays, the boy would leave unscathed - he had nothing to do with their plan, and his only fault was being one of the students of some shapeshifting bastard.
"Go on," Barverra stated blankly.
"He's a nice boy," Stricklander started slowly. "Probably may seem quite average at first glance, but surprisingly impressive at times. Quick-witted and brave, highly adaptive. I would say, also strong-willed and determined."
The daughter of Gunmar was listening without much interest - that one wasn't the Trollhunter in any case. Absent-mindedly she was passing through the showroom, picking up different exhibits. But gosh, the impure was certainly even a bigger scum than she had thought before if he picked 'a nice boy' as a scapegoat.
"I can say that the kid is quite mature and responsible for his age, with some good morals. He's from a single-parent family, after all. His father ran away with some bimbo, as far as I've heard, the mother raises the boy alone, overworking herself to the point of collapsing. Our Trollhunter is certainly a devoted son, by the way, - it's quite rare to see a teen who is so conscious about their parent's well-being."
The more Barverra had heard about that kid, the sorrier she felt for him. It was easy to imagine the teen befriending Jim as they could find many common points.
"But he's too gullible. An easy prey, to say the least. So likely to follow the one he trusts right into the lion's den," Stricklander continued, savoring each word.
What was the impure trying to accomplish with that except showing what kind of despicable bastard he was? The female troll frowned, picking up the Stone Age period spear and starting playing with it idly, fighting the urge to skewer the impure at the spot.
"Am I going to hear the name tonight?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom. Barverra seriously wanted to stop all that farce. Later she was going to conduct her own investigation. Yes, the female troll didn't have much, only that the Trollhunter was a boy and studied at the same school as Jim, but it would be way more efficient than depending on the scheming impure.
That was it - the right moment for the final stroke to Stricklander's masterpiece plan. He was watching her reaction during his description of the supposed target, and there was neither interest nor faith there.
Just as planned.
The name he was going to tell would end at the very end of the suspects' list.
"James Lake Jr." the name sounded too loud for some reason, and the following silence was too eerie. The spear snapped in two in Barverra's hand.
Stricklander felt some seriously terrifying bloodlust in the air. Had he miscalculated? Was the Herald of Doom going to rip him apart in any case? She certainly looked like that.
Yet...
It felt like an eternity, though only some seconds passed.
"I see," the daughter of Gunmar stated emotionlessly and... left.
That made no sense at all.
Barverra expected to hear any name, except that one. Why had that scum brought up her boy?
The first momentary wish was to thrust the spear she was holding right into the bastard's heart. The female still couldn't get how she managed to stop her own arm.
Probably, the reason was in slowly raising fear that Stricklander hadn't picked up Jim randomly.
What if he suspected her boy of being Gunmar's grandson?
What if he had some way to hold the teen hostage, and all that recent speech was just his way to show the female troll his own superior position?
But the Head of Janus Order simply couldn't discover anything. Jim was oblivious, so there was no way that his History teacher learned anything through him.
It only left Barverra herself as a guilty party. Perhaps, she missed one of the spies. Or maybe, she hadn't been careful enough with words, giving Stricklander more than enough hints.
Shit, where have I screwed that much?
The woman always suspected it would end that way eventually, but why had it happened right now, when there were more than enough other problems?
Or maybe she was simply jumping to conclusions.
Stricklander just picked up someone he thought about first - impures didn't care about fleshbags, so her son would be no different from others in his eyes.
It was just an unfortunate coincidence. It became evident now that the daughter of Gunmar thought about it calmly. Still, she wished her son didn't trust his teacher that much - if only Jim knew that the bastard was willing to use him as a sacrifice!
One day Barverra was going to make Stricklander pay for everything. But for now, her main goal would be a proper investigation.
A human teen as a Trollhunter? That kid would obviously try to show off a lot. Someone without any knowledge about trolls, their society, or the War for the Surfacelands could never understand the consequences of bragging right and left.
The line of Merlin's champions would end with this one, that was for sure.
A/N: Well, good luck in convincing a mother in denial)))
Place your bets on who'll get a full picture first