The Troll Heart Read online

  ‘Come on,’ pleaded Max. ‘Let’s go.’

  Anna took a step forward.

  ‘We’ll go back in a minute,’ she said. ‘I’ve just got to check something.’

  And with that, Anna ducked around the side of the barricade and stepped onto the bridge.

  9

  TRIP TRAP

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’ SHRIEKED MAX.

  Anna barely heard him. The melody of the nursery rhyme was deafening. It wiggled its way right into the centre of her head, entrancing her with its deep, haunting notes. Going back to the hotel was a bad idea. Forward was where Anna needed to go – forward across the bridge, to whatever lay on the other side. Why didn’t Max understand that? And why was Billy bleating so loudly? Why were they both banging against the barricade and making such an awful racket?

  To Anna’s annoyance, the two of them were making so much noise that it was becoming difficult to hear the music. She didn’t want the song to stop – it was beautiful, after all, even if it was a bit odd – but now the tune was becoming fainter and fainter, and the notes didn’t sound like notes anymore. In fact, now that she was thinking about it, they might never have been notes at all …

  ‘Anna! Touch the knife!’

  Anna gasped. Her fingers fumbled for the hilt of the white knife. Magical warmth shot through her body like electricity, shocking her all the way to her toes. Suddenly her head was clear; she whipped the knife from its sheath and whirled around, trying to remember what had happened.

  She was standing in the centre of the old stone bridge. Mist was clinging to the rocky sides so tightly that she might have been walking across a cloud. She couldn’t tell which side of the bridge she had come from – couldn’t see or hear Max and Billy, or anything else at all. What was going on?

  ‘Max?’ called Anna uncertainly, but her voice was so quiet that she knew he couldn’t have heard. Somehow, making a big noise didn’t seem like a good idea. Anna told herself that she needed to think – that she needed to think very hard indeed. She took a deep breath, struggling to focus on her surroundings.

  The stones in the middle of the bridge didn’t look as worn as the ones she had seen from the riverbank. Some of the edges looked so sharp that they might have sliced into her skin had she leant against them.

  ‘This isn’t good,’ she muttered. ‘This isn’t good at all.’

  Anna edged slowly forward, her hands shaking. Out of the mist emerged a new stone – a stone that was different from any of the others. It stuck out from the side of the bridge like a road sign, proudly displaying a series of jagged letters.

  GULL ELLER BLOD

  And although Anna had never seen the words before, the meaning shone clearly in her mind.

  GOLD OR BLOOD

  Anna remembered the strange conversation she had heard in the fog. The awful voice had spoken those same words to Mr Candle, but he had not seemed worried by them. What did it mean? Would she have to make a choice?

  A gentle tinkling sound was worming its way back into her ears. Anna frowned. What was she supposed to do?

  Before she could think of any answers, a low growl rumbled out from the bridge behind her.

  Anna whirled around, instinctively stabbing out with the knife, but her wrist was immediately caught by a stony grey hand. A second hand grabbed her around the waist, lifting her into the air; Anna tried to scream, but the wind had been knocked from her lungs. She found herself staring silently into an enormous face – a face with eyes as big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker.

  And as she struggled, a passage from the red-covered book floated into her mind as easily as if the page had been open before her.

  There are tribes of fairies who have lived beneath the ground for so long that their bodies have come to resemble the earth itself. These trolls follow laws of their own making, which are bound by the oldest magic.

  Anna gasped. She had encountered two fairies before, but neither had looked as horrible as the creature that now stood before her. The monster looked like a huge man made of stone and slime.

  ‘Let me go!’ gasped Anna.

  Hundreds of tiny shells hung from its shaggy stomach, tinkling like tambourine cymbals in the breeze. Poisonous mushrooms grew from its shoulders, flabby and white.

  ‘Stay back,’ gasped Anna, struggling to take a breath. ‘Let me go!’

  The troll snarled. Its mouth was filled with big yellow teeth.

  ‘You have not paid,’ it gurgled. ‘You have crossed, but you have not paid.’

  Its voice was very deep, as if it was calling out from beneath the river muck. Dirty black spittle trickled over its lips as it spoke, dripping down to puddle between the bridge stones. Every word smelt like death.

  ‘I didn’t know,’ panted Anna. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll go back.’

  ‘Touched the bridge and didn’t know,’ spat the creature. ‘Walked the bridge and didn’t care. Didn’t want to pay the toll. Didn’t want to face the troll.’

  ‘I’ll pay the toll,’ said Anna desperately. ‘I’ll pay it. What do you want?’

  The troll spun her roughly around. For a moment Anna thought it was going to throw her into the river – but then she realised it had turned her back to face the sign in the middle of the bridge. The scratched-on letters stood out from the rock, bolder and clearer than they had been before.

  GOLD OR BLOOD

  ‘Oh,’ said Anna.

  ‘Gold or blood,’ croaked the troll. ‘Payment for the song that called the bridge up from the water, so many years ago. Gold for the burrow, or blood for the stomach.’

  Anna felt sick. She didn’t have any gold.

  ‘How much blood?’ she asked timidly.

  The troll licked its lips.

  ‘All of it,’ it said.

  Anna tried to think of a different plan, but it was hard to concentrate with the troll’s fingers stabbing into her stomach. The bravery she usually felt when holding the white knife seemed to be blocked by the troll’s grip around her wrist: the stony hand was pinching her arm so tightly that she barely had enough strength to keep holding the hilt. The tip of the blade was hovering close to the troll’s shell-covered stomach; she tried to push the knife forward using only her fingertips, her hand shaking with the effort.

  ‘You have not paid,’ repeated the troll. ‘You have crossed, but you have not paid. Now I may name my own price, as the old laws command.’

  And now the troll was grinning. Black slime was pouring from the corners of its mouth, as if the monster had a river hidden in its throat. Anna made a final, desperate attempt to thrust the knife forward, but now her palms were sweating, and there was a danger that she might lose her grip on it altogether. What else could she do?

  ‘You can’t take me,’ she spluttered. ‘My brother knows I’m here. He’ll tell everyone. Your bridge won’t be a secret anymore.’

  The troll frowned.

  ‘You have a brother?’ it grunted.

  ‘Yes!’ gasped Anna. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Had her threat really worked?

  Now the monster seemed to be thinking. Its great saucer-eyes darted back towards the riverbank. It sniffed the air through its long nose.

  And then the troll smiled. It was a dark, dangerous smile – and suddenly Anna knew that she had made a terrible mistake.

  ‘I name my price,’ said the troll. ‘I name the boy who stands at the foot of my bridge, a juicy bag of blood and bone to place on my pantry shelf. He was yours to give, and now I claim him.’

  ‘No!’ yelled Anna. ‘That’s not what I meant! You can’t take him!’

  ‘The deal is done,’ croaked the troll. ‘The boy is mine, and you may cross.’

  The great grey hands released their grip. Anna stumbled backwards, almost slipping over in the puddle of black spittle that had collected at the troll’s feet. But Anna wasn’t about to give up so easily. Her wrist was free, and the white knife was still clutched in her hand. She leapt forward, slashing out at the troll’s belly w
ith as much force as she could muster.

  The knife sliced through thin air. It was as if the tip had caught itself on an invisible snag, gliding away from the troll in a harmless arc. The troll made a deep burbling sound in the back of its throat.

  ‘The bridge-law binds you, girl,’ it rasped. ‘Leave now, lest I charge you again.’

  A scream pierced through the mist. A third figure had joined them atop the bridge – Max. Anna could see at once that there was something wrong with his legs. Max’s top half was flailing and twisting, wriggling and squealing, but still his feet marched onwards, taking one horrible step after the next. His wild eyes fell on Anna, and for a moment he looked relieved.

  ‘Anna!’ he yelled. ‘Help! Something’s got me!’

  And then Max saw the troll.

  Max’s mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. He gulped dumbly like a goldfish, too shocked to do anything else. The troll plucked him off the bridge and held him close to its eyes, gnashing its yellow teeth.

  ‘You look like a juicy one,’ it gurgled. ‘I’ll be nibbling you for months.’

  ‘Let him go!’ yelled Anna. ‘Let him go!’

  Max’s face was turning red. Anna slashed and cut and stabbed and hacked, swinging the knife as hard as she could, but no blow could be landed. The troll glowered down at her, its eyes glowing fiercely.

  ‘You have been told to leave,’ it said. ‘Your crossing has been wasted.’

  The bridge stones beneath Anna’s feet began to quake. Anna yelped in surprise, bending her knees to keep her balance. Tiny stones were rolling past her shoes, tumbling away from their mossy beds, as if the whole bridge had been tilted upwards without her noticing – and then suddenly all the stones were sliding over one another, rolling across the bridge like a wave, and Anna was being carried along with them. She screamed, trying to step away from the swell of cascading pebbles, but her feet were stuck fast, pulled down by the weight of the shivering stones.

  ‘Anna!’ screamed Max. ‘Don’t leave me!’

  But Anna could only watch helplessly as she slid back across the bridge. Max screamed again, reaching out towards her, but his cries quickly grew fainter as the mist rolled over the centre of the bridge. For a moment Anna could still see the eyes of the troll glowing meanly in the half-light, but soon they too were dimmed by fog, lost amid the cold English air.

  And Anna was alone once more.

  10

  COLD CALLING

  THE BRIDGE SPAT ANNA BACK ONTO THE riverbank. She fell heavily onto the grass beside the barricade, staring numbly up at the signs that had tried to warn her away. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she pulled herself to her feet.

  It had happened again.

  She had been the one who had wished for another adventure. She had been the one who had kept hold of the enchanted knife; the one who had wanted to meet another fairy, no matter how dangerous that might be. She was the one who had convinced Max to help her investigate. She was the one who had led Max to the river.

  Now Max was gone, just like Jamie Sparrow before him, and it was all her fault.

  Something sharp pressed against Anna’s leg. Anna looked down to see Billy the goat beside her, his head bowed low. He was trembling again. Anna reached down and stroked his tufty beard.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, even though it wasn’t. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’

  But she didn’t know if that was true, either.

  The stones had stopped moving. The bridge stood calmly before her, looking for all the world as if nothing strange had happened at all. Anna gritted her teeth, hefting the white knife in her hand. Now that she was free of the troll’s horrible grip, the power of the knife seemed to be returning. A pulse of heat burst against her palm, filling her with a courage that burned like fire.

  ‘Nobody messes with my brother,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Nobody except me.’

  Max and the troll might still be on the bridge. If she was quick, she might be able to rescue him before any real damage was done. Steeling herself for another battle, Anna stepped forward.

  Her foot never landed. Billy the goat crashed into her side so forcefully that Anna was knocked off-balance. She fell back into the grass and mud, the white knife knocked from her hand. Anna rolled over, spitting out a mouthful of dirt.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ she said angrily. ‘I have to save Max!’

  But Billy wasn’t listening. Now he was standing between Anna and the bridge, his head lowered, horns glinting. Anna stared up at her former ally, feeling very betrayed indeed.

  The bridge-law binds you, girl. Leave now, lest I charge you again.

  Anna froze. She stared in horror at the bridge, unable to believe how close she had been to placing her foot down upon it. She had never felt so stupid.

  ‘I would have had to pay the toll again,’ she whispered. ‘The troll would have taken me as well.’

  Billy raised his head. He trotted over to Anna and licked her gently on the cheek.

  ‘You don’t have to apologise,’ said Anna. ‘You did the right thing. I think you just saved me from being eaten.’

  Billy bleated.

  Anna climbed to her feet. She retrieved the white knife from where it had fallen, frowning as she held it by her side. It seemed that this time it was going to take more than just bravery to steal her brother back.

  But how was she going to get across the river?

  ‘What about swimming?’ Anna asked Billy. ‘Will that work?’

  Billy didn’t say anything. Anna looked out at the water, eyeing the waves and eddies as they swirled past. The river wasn’t particularly wide, but it wasn’t particularly narrow, either. Was it deep? She imagined the troll lurking beneath her in the water, reaching up to curl its slimy fingers around her ankle.

  Perhaps swimming wasn’t the best idea either.

  Anna walked along the bank and looked back at the bridge from a different angle. Her eyes fell again on the rocks that had fallen from the bridge into the water, their weathered tops stuck up above the current. Suddenly she had an idea.

  ‘Stepping stones!’ she exclaimed. She gave Billy a look. ‘Do you think that’s allowed?’

  She stepped as close to the water’s edge as she dared, sizing up the distance between the nearest stone and the riverbank. It wouldn’t be an easy jump.

  ‘I don’t think that’s part of the bridge anymore,’ she muttered. ‘It probably fell off centuries ago. Now it’s just a silly old rock.’

  And before she could talk herself out of it, Anna leapt into the air.

  She almost didn’t make it. Her right heel dipped into the river as she landed; she spun her arms around, desperately trying not to fall in. In a moment she had regained her balance – but to her dismay, the next rock was even further away. Anna sized up the distance again, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to jump that far. She would have to go back.

  The flutter of hope that had risen up inside her was immediately extinguished. Max was gone again – but this wasn’t like the last time. In Romania, she hadn’t been alone. Isabella had helped her be brave when terrifying things were happening all around them; had helped her to rescue her brother from an impossible danger. On that adventure, having a friend by her side had made all the difference.

  Anna closed her eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing that was building between her ears. She wished that Isabella was there. If she could only speak to her, even for a moment, she knew it would give her all the courage she needed to face the perils ahead. She pictured Isabella’s curly black hair, wild and dark; pictured the pale crescent scar that twisted across her cheek, and the kind, brave smile that would light up her face.

  A pain blossomed in the side of Anna’s head.

  Anna screamed. She lashed out with the knife, sure that the troll had risen up beside her, sure that its wicked claw was piercing through her skull – but there was nobody there. She raised her hand to her head, confused. An awful headache was bo
oming out from behind her right ear, paralysing the rest of her brain, sending terrible shockwaves down her neck. Anna moaned as the pain snaked down her arms and legs, burning her all the way to her fingers and toes. She bent over at the waist, trying hard not to fall into the river, trying even harder not to vomit.

  The pain in her head was bouncing between her temples. Anna forced her eyes open, panting for breath, trying to regain control of her body. Now the pain was crawling around her brain like a wounded animal – like a person, trapped behind her eyes. How could pain have a shape? Anna forced herself to take another gasping breath. Who was in her head?

  And then the pain vanished. Anna slowly opened her eyes, sweat dripping down her face. The headache was gone – but it had left an itchy feeling in its wake. A strange tingling sensation now stretched from Anna’s scalp to her hands, from her hands to her feet, like all of her furthest points were strung together with electrical wire.

  The knife in her hand was shining like a star. Anna stared at the blade, bemused, hoping she hadn’t made another terrible mistake. Whatever had just happened, she was in no state to deal with it. She slowly turned around, preparing her aching limbs for the long jump back to land.

  What she saw almost made her fall off the stone in shock.

  The riverbank had been completely transformed. Trees had sprouted from every surface, old and tall and lush. Billy and the metal barricade were nowhere to be seen. Anna gasped, looking down at the river. Mist was swirling around her shoes; with a start, she felt the stepping stone pulse with heat. Where was she?

  ‘Anna?’ said a voice. ‘Is that really you?’

  Anna’s head jerked up. She just had time to see a girl in a white dress gasping at her from atop a tree branch – and then the girl lost her balance, falling down to the ground in a somersault of limbs and wild black hair. A sketchbook fell after her, landing on the grass just as the girl jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing. On her cheek was a scar, shaped like a tiny crescent moon.

  Anna’s mouth fell open.

  ‘Isabella?’ she said.

  Isabella Dalca gaped back at her. She took a hesitant step towards Anna, unable to believe her eyes.