"Why?" She hardened the word, and was surprised to see him shift back from her a bit.
Magnus relented. "Because I want to see what his magic is. I can sense there is something strange about him, but I can't put a finger on what it is. Every troll has magic. But that one in particular has a sensation that I haven't felt in a very long time. I can smell it, you know. Magic. You have a lot of it about you as well."
"I don't like what you're doing to him."
He scoffed. "Okay. And?"
She could feel a piece of herself shifting at the incredulous tone. Anger bubbled up inside her. Anger that was hard to get ahold of, again, like this beast had been birthed in her chest and she had no idea how to put a leash on the damn thing.
But that anger pulled at her, at something else inside of her. It was like someone whispering a story to her that she wasn’t supposed to know. Her pale hair fell in front of her face as she looked down at the prince's feet, and words spilled from her lips: "They hid you away because they were afraid of your power, so I find it ironic that you are so fixated on others’ powers. You look like an elf, but you do not act like one. They wanted to create dark elves, and you are the closest they have come. But you know nothing of your heritage, where you came from, or how you have become what you are."
"And you do?"
"I know much about the elves." Rose lifted her gaze to glare at him. "I know more than you will ever guess at. Their language is seared into my mind, both spoken and recorded. I know their traditions, their ways, and all that they desired to do in this realm. I know their pain and torment, just as I know what runs in your veins, prince."
The darkness around his eyes seemed to move. Writhing beneath his skin as power flexed beneath the charcoal gray. "You know nothing of my power, human."
"The mountain doesn't speak to you when you're so far away from it, does it?" she asked, more words that came from somewhere else. Someone else. "But you should be able to hear it by now, prince of Trollveggen. So why can't you hear her any longer?"
Magnus seemed to freeze, staring at her in a new, frightened light. His eyes widened. His body stiffened. He lurched away from her only to see Gunnar materialize behind him.
Her troll wrapped a fist around Magnus's throat and tossed him backward. The prince caught his leg on a log and went down, hard. Hard enough that the moss would likely have an imprint of his body there for a while yet.
"No more tricks," Gunnar snarled. "No more games. You will behave while you travel with us, or I will lose you in these woods and you will never find your way back to your mountain. Do you hear me?"
Magnus swallowed. "Heard, Illusionist."
Twenty
Gunnar
He couldn't understand why he was having such a reaction to Rose being anywhere near Magnus, but it was something about the other troll's face that he didn't like.
Or maybe it was just that the prince was a very, very pretty troll and Gunnar was not that. All his life, Gunnar had been known as one of the more attractive trolls. He didn't scare humans as badly. He was prettier than his massive brother who was too gruff and scary for most women other than Maia. It was part of Gunnar's charm that he was easier to be around for the humans who had joined Trollveggen.
But now, that was no longer his place. This prince could sway or woo any human woman he wanted. Hearing Rose say Magnus was just like an elf had nearly crushed him.
Elves were known to be beautiful. They were almost impossible to behold. Their visage more god-like than a creature that should exist on this plain. He knew that she had to find this creature beautiful, and it made him want to put a fist through the prince's face, just to make him a little more ugly.
As they traveled, it was harder and harder for him to stop himself from exploding. At least Magnus had stopped trying to goad him into a fight now that the prince knew what his magic was.
He didn't like it when people tested him either. Gunnar had been sent by the king himself, and that should have been enough for the king's son to know that Gunnar was the right choice. He could protect them both swiftly, keep them hidden from the world around them if he had to. But he didn't like that Magnus had questioned if he was the right person for the job.
Now, he had to endure the two of them chattering the entire trip, and that was a needle in his side as well. Rose didn't talk. That had never been something she’d done for all the months he had known her.
And he wasn't even sure how long that time had been. Had they already been with each other for a year now? He was certain it was close to that, at least. He had saved her from the labyrinth, and he'd doted on her ever since. Still, she hadn't talked to him very much. Maybe a few words here and there before she would flee her physical form.
Enter a prince into their lives, and suddenly she knew how to talk. Sure, she mostly had quips to keep Magnus quiet, or to argue with him that what he was saying was not, in fact, something an elf would say.
Even now, they were arguing.
"I think you're wrong," Magnus said as he clambered over a tree and dropped down onto the other side. "Elves were always interested in magic. They were the ones who put the idea into troll heads that if we sought out more of their bloodline, we might be able to become more like them."
"That is not true." Rose's head barely poked over the tree Magnus had climbed, and she stood there glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "That was all trolls. Elves just made trollsbecause they could. It wasn't some grand scheme to become gods and create life."
"Of course it was."
"That's all fables made up by trolls to give your own lives meaning, or whatever reasoning you have behind wanting that. The elves were not benevolent and they sure as shit didn't care about you."
