Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 26th November 2022
Wednesday
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Toby shut his locker and turned to face Claire.
"I mean, after your speech not going well and all-"
"Claire," he cut in before she could get going with trying to shore him up, "I'm okay about it. Really."
The doubt on her face let him know that she, a perfectionist, wouldn't be, in his shoes. Not for the first time, Toby blessed his laid back personality and the fact that Nana hadn't pushed him from the cradle the way he was preeetty sure Claire's mom had pushed her.
Though it had led to Claire being one wicked sorceress, so maybe he shouldn't be badmouthing success.
"No, seriously," he assured her. "I know public speaking's not my thing." He glanced over her shoulder, where Jim was approaching, talking with Aja. "I'm not King Jim," he told Claire softly. "I'm Duke Toby. I may be the Trollhunter this time around, but it's not about me. It's about us, and what we can all do together, right? Team Trollhunters."
Something complicated crossed her face, but he saw that she got what he meant. "Besides," Toby said more loudly, so that Jim could hear too, "you should've heard Chompsky yelling at me last night, when I told him I'd muffed the speech. He was so mad he threw his hat on the floor and stormed into the dollhouse and slammed the door."
Jim winced. "You two gonna be okay?"
"Eh." Toby shrugged. "He'll come around. I'll just buy his girlfriend that bike he wants for her."
"You have the strangest housemates," Aja said.
"Says the Akiridion living on Earth," Jim teased.
Aja snorted, grinning wide. "Someday you must all come visit Akiridion-5," she said. "I will show you all the best places."
"I will totally take you up on that, princess!" Toby declared. "I always thought it was kinda unfair that Eli was the only one who actually got to see it."
Aja splayed her hands. "He asked first."
"I am not king of Trollmarket!" Jim insisted over lunch.
Toby snorted. "Yeah, no. After yesterday's speech? You kind of are."
"I'm not!"
Darci exchanged a look with Mary. "I'm lost."
"Toby bombed his speech to the trolls," Krel informed them. "Jim stepped in and using his phenomenal powers of divine kingship, mended it all."
Jim glared. "I liked you better when you didn't get Earth modes of humor."
Krel snorted. "No, you did not."
"Anyhow, smart money says yes, you're king of Trollmarket," Toby put in. He pulled out a small notebook. "I've got five on at least half of Trollmarket showing up on Saturday. Anyone else want in on the betting pool?"
Steve snorted. "I'm putting down twenty against," he said, jabbing his finger at Toby's notebook. "No way this loser talked them all into that."
Jim looked like he wanted to say something, but was biting his tongue on it.
"I'll say five against," Darci offered. "No offense, Jim, but from what I've seen of them? Trolls are kind of stubborn."
Toby snorted. "You've got that right."
"I'll put five in favor of Jim," Claire said. She smiled at Jim. "I've got faith in you."
"Ugh." Jim buried his face in his hands. "I don't want to be king of Trollmarket!"
"And I did not want to be queen of Akiridion-5," Aja retorted airily. "We take the destiny that is given to us."
Jim's forehead met the table. "I blame Merlin," he whined.
Douxie, via text, added ten dollars to the pot on the side of Jim's speech having been successful.
"Okay," Toby said to Blinky as soon as he arrived in Trollmarket, "I have a thought."
Blinky raised his eyebrows. "And what might that thought be, young Toby?"
"The Quagawumps," Toby said promptly.
Blinky set his book down. "Expound upon that, if you please."
Toby huffed a breath. "Okay, so I know I totally screwed things up with yesterday's speech-ah, don't tell me I didn't!" he protested, as Blinky opened his mouth to presumably do just that. "We both know I did, and Jim saved my bacon. The thing is, I guess I've always kind of felt like Trollmarket is his, yanno? Like they'll listen to him but not to sidekick me."
"You are their Trollhunter this time, not Jim," Blinky pointed out.
Toby nodded. "I know that, and you know that, and they know that. But the thing is?" He knocked on the side of his head. "I've got almost two years of memories in here that says Jim's their hero, and the fact that he's now King Jim besides. So that's probably part of why I screwed up."
"I would hardly say 'screwed up'," Blinky murmured. His hands touched Toby's arms, the gentlest of hugs. "You froze, and your words failed you. It is something that might happen to the most stalwart of warriors."
"Yeah, Draal told me public speaking's not really high on the amulet's list of priorities when it picks a new Trollhunter." Toby pulled a face. "So anyhow. This goes back to my thought of, Trollmarket's making their decisions; who else can we involve? The Krubera, maybe, but..."
"But they have cut off all contact with Trollmarket since the loss of Usurna." Blinky nodded. "I do know Vendel sent word of her crimes, both evident and alleged, back with her honor guard. I do not know, however, how they are reacting to such knowledge."
"Yeah. So talking with them might not be in our best interests right now. The Quagas, on the other hand..."
Blinky was nodding. "They are, despite their stature, most fierce warriors. And they will have no more love for Gunmar than any other right-thinking troll. You think we should approach them and ask for their aid?"
"Mm, maybe?" Toby shrugged. "I was more thinking, Wumpa and her people helped us out with this last time. We should at least tell them what's going on. And, hey, if they decide to join in, more people on our side. But if they don't." He shrugged again. "Nothing lost."
"A most brilliant notion!" Blinky's face was all smiles. "We shall extend them the, hmm, professional courtesy of informing them of an imminent battle, and in doing so strengthen their nascent bonds with Trollmarket, to offset the loss of those bonds with the Krubera!"
"Now you're thinking like a politician," Toby complained. But he was grinning. Blinky didn't think it was a stupid idea!
"When shall we go?" Blinky asked. "You have your schoolwork, and your training, of course-"
"I was thinking now?" Toby cut him off. "I know the training is important," he said at Blinky's look, "but we need to give them a few days to consider it and make their decision, right?"
Blinky nodded. "A sound argument. Very well, then, Tobias. To the gyre!"
Thursday
"All right, let's try this." Hisirdoux stood in the Nuñez backyard. By his side stood Javier, arms crossed, a dubious expression on his face. By Javier's side stood NotEnrique, his arms also crossed, with a matching dubious look on his face.
Closing his eyes, Douxie let the glyph from Blinky's book appear crisp and clear in his mind. When geomancers, such as Blinky, used their magic, they drew on the power of the Earth itself. In the case of trolls, most commonly they used the power of the nearest available stone of power. Such as, say, a primordial Heartstone that was very nearly the size of Arcadia itself.
Douxie, however, was a human wizard; he grew magic. He was his own power source.
The sigil complete and perfect behind his eyelids, he opened them. Blue plasma formed at his fingertips. Thrusting his hand forward, a ghostly image of the ward flew from him to the wall of the house. As soon as it attached, it disappeared. To his second sight, a wash of pale blue magic cascaded out from that impact point, up and over the house, until he could /feel/ it seal in on itself on the other side, a perfect shield bubble.
It was subtly different from the wards he'd put on the Lake and Domzalski houses, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to articulate the difference if asked.
"That's all?" Javier asked, eyebrows raised high.
"I'm afraid so," Douxie told him.
"I expected more... light show or something," Claire's father said, gesturing aimlessly. His eyes narrowed, staring at where the ward had landed on the side of his house. "I can't even tell you did anything."
"A properly cast ward is invisible until it's triggered," Archie informed him.
"Which is my job," NotEnrique said. "Budge over, Pops." The small changeling stalked forward to the back door. He hesitated, then pressed his clawed hand to the wood siding.
Nothing happened.
He sighed. "Well, here goes," NotEnrique said, and stretched up, just managing to reach the doorknob. It, too, did not react to his touch.
He turned the knob, opened the door, and scrabbled inside.
Still no reaction.
"Ey, wasn't this supposed ta do somethin'?" he asked, looking back out at Douxie.
"Apparently not," Douxie said, relieved.
"Though this doesn't solve the question of whether it's a matter of intent or full troll heritage that the ward operates on," Archie murmured.
Douxie waved a hand, dismissive. "Doesn't much matter in this case."
"It might," Archie pointed out. "If any of those diehards Strickler has sent away get wind of our plans and return to throw monkey wrenches in them."
"Well, without one of them, we haven't exactly got a way to test it, have we?" Douxie pointed out. "And it's certainly not like we can risk calling one of them back from their 'assignments' to test the theory, now is it?"
Javier's mouth was pursed as he considered his home. "And this will protect the house from these Gumm-Gumms?"
Douxie nodded. "It should make it so that they don't even want to touch the building."
"And you are applying these to the buildings downtown?"
"Some tonight after work, some tomorrow," Douxie confirmed. "They should all be done by Saturday morning."
Javier hummed and stroked his chin. "And it lasts how long?"
"It should last a full turn of the moon," Douxie said cautiously. It wasn't that he didn't trust the strength of his magic, but rather that it had been quite a while since he'd had to put actual study into how long protective spells lasted on stable structures. Some were more worn down by increased comings-and-goings of residents; others, by how often the ward flared up.
That night spent frantically and surreptitiously reapplying protection spells from within a flimsy hut had been terrifying. In the end, a few hours before dawn, he and Archie had had to give up all pretense of hiding what they were doing, and cast magic openly.
The difference between possible death by human hands and certain death by pack of feral werewolves had made the choice for them.
Fortunately, once dawn's light had come, the wolves outside had collapsed, human again, naked in the snow.
Douxie had fashioned cursebreakers in the shape of crosses, draped one around the neck of each villager, and gotten the hell out of that part of Romania before anyone could decide to lynch him after all.
"While the sigil could be applied more obviously and permanently with paint or marker," Archie said, "it would still require a periodic reapplication of magical energy to keep it from fading and losing effectiveness."
"So. It is supernatural home security. You could build up a business in this," suggested Javier. "Monthly reapplications, like when the pest control service comes around quarterly."
"Eh, that only works if there's a customer base," NotEnrique disagreed.
"And wizardry doesn't pay," added Archie.
Douxie swallowed. "The most wizardry has ever gotten me," he pointed out, "is a sword to the throat, or the local equivalent thereof."
"But it could pay," Javier pointed out. "Especially if this plan of yours to reveal magic to the world, or at least to Arcadia, plays out well."
The thought of being able to do magic openly was, as ever, a siren song. And maybe in the world Jim could make, he might be able to. But even when Arcadia had known about trolls and aliens, Douxie hadn't dared spellcast in public. Nine hundred years of hard won caution was burned into his bones. Secrecy, running and hiding, had kept him alive.
But now he was growing roots.
Not for the first time, he wondered what would have happened to Merlin's grand plans if Douxie hadn't gotten so fleet on his feet in the centuries of his master's nap. If he had, in fact, perished sometime between Camelot falling and Merlin rising.
Probably nothing, he glumly concluded. Merlin held some small spot of affection for him, or else he'd never have bothered with Douxie at all. But if he'd died? He doubted his former master would have even batted an eye over it, much less shed a tear. His absence wouldn't have affected Merlin's plans at all, Douxie thought. In fact, it was even more likely that Merlin would have survived if Douxie hadn't been there with his stupid ideas and half-baked plans. The Order might never have gotten their hands on the Genesis Seals, or Nari, at all.
Jim and the others would certainly never have known Douxie even existed.
Less than a footnote in history.
As he'd always been meant to be.
Well, I'm not now, am I? Douxie thought determinedly. He was certainly not Merlin, would never be Merlin, but he'd bloody well put down those roots, and they were going to be-they had to be-strong enough to bear them all through the coming storm.
Toby had been looking smug all morning. At lunch, Claire finally cracked. "Okay, give," she told Toby. "What's got you in such a good mood?"
"Oh, you know." Still looking like NotEnrique with a haul of smelly socks, Toby grinned, revealing smooth white teeth. "Boom, boom, shake the room."
She blinked. "The Quagawumps?"
"Is that where you and Blinky disappeared to instead of training last night?" Jim asked.
"Yep." Toby popped the "p".
"Hey, why does he get to skip training but we don't?" Steve demanded, pointing his fork at Toby.
"And what are Quagawumps?" asked Mary.
"They're a troll tribe in Florida," Claire explained. "And they /really/ like Toby. He looks like their last king. Their last good one, I mean," she corrected herself.
"Yeah, according to the Quagas, I am hot stuff." Toby burnished his fingernails on his sweater vest and held them out to show the shine.
"And...?" Jim asked.
"Well, Wumpa was happy to see us. Not as much swamp maggots at the feast this time, fortunately."
Darci blanched. "Swamp maggots?" she hissed.
Toby flapped a hand. "Local delicacy," he said, like that explained things.
"Whoa! You've eaten maggots?!" Steve demanded.
"Steve, you don't want to know what I've eaten as a troll, okay?" Jim told him. "Let's just drop it."
"Especially while eating lunch," Eli muttered, staring at his lunch tray in sudden distaste.
Aja and Krel shared a look and rolled their eyes in unison.
"So what happened?" Claire prompted Toby.
"Well, I did not muff things as bad as I did down in Trollmarket," he reported proudly. "I'm not sure I sold Wumpa and the Quagas on joining the battle, but you know them." He shrugged. "They're fierce, and they love to fight. So maybe they'll show, maybe they won't. But either way, we've extended the invite."
"Good work, Toby!" Claire told him.
"Yeah." Jim smiled softly. "Good work, Tobes."
Toby beamed.
"Ugh." Krel collapsed onto the bench beside Eli, once again winded beyond reasonable expectations by the simple demands of gym class. He gazed balefully at the ceiling, before slumping in acceptance. There were barely more than forty-eight horvaths left before the confrontation with Gunmar and the Gumm-Gumms; he would not be in fighting shape by then.
Kubritz and Birdy could, and hopefully would, rot in some unhappy version of an afterlife, he thought.
"I give up," Krel said aloud. "I am not going to be able to participate on Saturday night."
"Well." Eli pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "It's not like I'm in prime fighting shape either. Is there anything out of the way you could do? Mary's going to be on the rooftops too, and I think Jim has Steve and Darci on crowd control?"
Krel hummed noncommittally, trying to think of something useful he could do from a protective distance. "I mean, I could always be taking potshots with my serrator," he offered. "Or... oh!" He straightened as an idea come to him. "We need a team comms system," he said. "So that those of us on high can offer direction to those on the ground."
Eli blinked. "That sounds like a really good idea!" he said. His expression morphed into a frown. "But we have like two days, Krel. And school tomorrow. Are you going to have /time/ to build enough comm units and get everyone up to speed on how to use them?"
Krel grinned. "Eli," he said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, "you underestimate my genius, and your own."
Eli's eyes widened, shining. "You mean... I get to help you?"
Krel grinned. "I am counting on it."
"Oh, well done, Master Douxie!" Blinky cheered as the rippling wave of blue enclosed the museum and then vanished.
Douxie breathed heavily, grinning nonetheless. "Three more buildings and we're done," he said.
"I will take care of the next structure," Blinky offered, gesturing at it with the hand that held the chip of Heartstone he'd been using to power his own spells. "And after our endeavors are completed, I, for one, do believe we deserve to thereafter seek sustenance at Stuart's most fine establishment." Another hand gestured behind them toward the other side of the square, where the taco truck stood open, feeding late-night stragglers and those other-than-human beings who were unlikely to seek out fine Mexican cuisine during daylight hours.
"Sounds brilliant, mate," Douxie agreed, trudging on to the next corner, Archie trotting along beside his feet, tail held high.
Their night session of spellcasting was interrupted by the loud whoop-whoop! of a police car siren, right beside them.
Douxie groaned, slumping as the car pulled to a stop and Darci's father got out, glowering.
"Detective Scott!" Blinky cheered, apparently unfazed. "So good to see you again. You will be pleased to hear that Darci is making rapid progress in her studies of both martial arts, and the troll language!"
By his expression, Douxie guessed that the man was not pleased by either of those things. "And just what might you be doing here?" the police officer demanded, ignoring Blinky, narrowly eyeing Douxie.
"Why, applying protective wards to the buildings, of course!" Blinky crowed.
"Wards." His tone was unimpressed.
"Why, yes. There's-"
"Blinky." Douxie's quiet tone cut the troll off. Blinking and looking startled, Blinky nonetheless ceded the conversation to him with a flourish. "There's a cursed artifact," Douxie told the Detective, "in the museum."
"Cursed. Artifact." Detective Scott could not have channeled disbelieving any harder if he'd tried.
"Oh, it's cursed, all right," Archie informed him, jumping up on Douxie's shoulder.
"Jesus Christ!" The cop jumped back, clearly unnerved by a talking cat.
Archie licked a paw, smug, and washed it over one ear. "Think of it as being rather like an unexploded bomb," he suggested.
"Killahead Bridge is indeed on a hair trigger," Blinky said, seeming to grasp Archie's tactic.
"And you're, what, a bomb squad?" The Detective tore his gaze from Archie to look disbelievingly at Blinky and Douxie.
"No, we're part of the bomb squad," Douxie told him. "And the controlled detonation is scheduled for Saturday evening." It was a risk, telling the man that. But they needed him on their side, and lying wasn't likely to do them any favors.
"Saturday. Evening."
Blinky shrugged. "Well, myself and my partner Aaarrrgghh would hardly be able to participate during daylight hours."
"And we're scheduling it for not a school night," Archie added in.
The Detective dropped his head briefly into his hand. "...Fuckin' Ghostbusters..." he muttered. After a moment, though, he straightened and looked back at them with a glare. "For the record," he warned, "I am not happy about this. But, fine. What do you need me to do?"
Douxie breathed a sigh, relieved. "Well," he started. "We're reinforcing the buildings. We've got warriors ready to take on the assailants who'll come out of the bridge, and a couple people on crowd control. But we could always use more help on keeping people safe..."
"Earth?" Izita asked incredulously. Her fingers ran rapidly across the touchscreen, bringing up information. "That's a derelict planet in Area 51. It's a wildlife habitat, being used for nothing more than rebuilding the endangered Mos'quito population. Why would the royals be there?"
"Prince Krel gave me their location himself," Zadra told her. She frowned at the memory of that delson's display. "And a warning about Morando's OMENs."
Izita's face was troubled. "If they are as dangerous as you say, the royals need you more than ever. But how could Prince Krel have possibly known about them?"
"I have no idea," Zadra told her. "But though he swears the traitor has paid for his crimes... I cannot trust the safety of the royal family to Varvatos Vex."
"Nor should you." Izita's fingers kept moving. She looked up, met Zadra's eyes. "You will need a ship."
Zadra nodded. "Fast. Untrackable."
Izita smirked. "Untrackable is an oxymoron."
"If I rip out a few critical circuits," Zadra told her, "it will become untrackable."
"Very well." Izita began to flicker rapidfire through various makes and models, until she stopped at one in particular. "It will not be easy to get your hands on an appropriate ship, but..."
Zadra's smile was slow and dark. "If you're going to steal," she said, "steal only the best." She grinned, looking at the one Izita had paused on. "A Taylon Striker."
Author's Notes: Apologies for being a day behind posting schedule. Between being sick, doing my part of the cooking for Thanksgiving, and my kids only having two days of school this week, my writing time was insufficient and delayed. Izita's information about Earth is very much an homage to Lilo and Stitch.
