Eva shot out of the house, roaring and waving her ax. Annie jumped out of her way.
“Nobody touches my elf!” Eva roared, quickly closing the distance between her and Mr. Alexander.
“I’m not your elf,” Bloom shouted from where he dangled.
“Whatever.” She swung her ax at the troll and missed. It slammed into the snow. She tried to hoist it back out.
“Eva! Watch out!” Annie yelled.
Too late.
Mr. Alexander chucked the tree right at Eva. Annie watched, horrified, as it landed on the dwarf, a massive thud of trunk and branches. Bloom was caught up in the limbs somewhere and vanished when the tree thundered down onto Eva and the ground. Annie couldn’t see either of them in the twist of branches and snow. They could both be dead. No, they can’t be.
“Ha!” said the troll, wiping his hands together. “That will make them easier to break apart and eat.”
He moved toward the tree.
“Don’t you dare!” Annie raced to a position in front of him, waving the skis about.
“What?” The troll stopped and laughed, a huge, chortling cackle. “What are you going to do about it, huh? You’re just a girl. A teeny, inconsequential girl.”
“I’ve got skis.” Annie waved them in his face. “And I’m not afraid to use them.”
“Honestly? That’s it?” He mocked her voice: “ ‘I’ve got skis, and I’m not afraid to use them’?”
“Yes …” Annie tried to think of something else to say. There was movement in the tree. Either Bloom or Eva was still alive. She had to give them time to get out, had to lure away the troll somehow. “These skis aren’t normal.”
“They aren’t?” Mr. Alexander took a step closer, casually, without a care in the world.
“No.” Annie lowered her voice. “They’re magic.”
“Magic? How?”
This is a bit like talking to a toddler, Annie thought. She’d learned how to do that from a couple of foster parents back when their three-year-old was having a tantrum. Anything shiny or yummy would almost always get her to stop. Trolls were like that, too, it seemed.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” Annie said. She stepped backward just slightly.
It was enough to hook Mr. Alexander. “Tell me!”
He stepped forward quickly, which meant he was three booming steps away from the fallen tree and her friends.
“They fly,” Annie said in a way that made it sound as if she were trusting him with the biggest secret in the universe.
“No!” His mouth dropped open in shock, and his hand fluttered to his chest.
“Scout’s honor,” Annie said. She tried to make the Boy Scout sign with her fingers, but she had never been a Boy Scout. She failed. It ended up looking more like an awkward peace sign. Mr. Alexander didn’t seem to notice. He probably hadn’t been a Boy Scout either.
The clouds broke enough for the moonlight to flicker through the remaining trees, creating bars of light on the snow. A noise in the house made Annie jump. Mr. Alexander cackled.
He sounds just like the crow, Annie thought. For a second she wondered if all evil things sounded like that, but even as she thought it, Mr. Alexander reached forward, yanking the skis from her hand.
“I’ll take those,” he muttered. He plopped the long skis on the ground and set his feet upon them. They cracked beneath his weight. “It’s not doing nothing.”
He growled, staring at her.
“You—you have to turn them on,” Annie stammered. She pointed. “There’s a button, right there on the top of the ski.”
Mr. Alexander looked down, moving this way and that to try to get an angle. His considerable size prevented him from getting a good fix on the button.
“Maybe you could just bend over and press it,” Annie suggested.
“TROLLS DO NOT BEND!” he roared. Then he lowered his voice. “Not that I’m a troll—”
“Of course not.”
“Trolls do not exist.”
“Of course they don’t,” Annie soothed as a random shaft of lightning lit the sky.
“We are not allowed to let the world know about us,” Mr. Alexander finished his thought nervously and then reached out, yanking Annie up into the air, lifting her so high that they were nose to nose. Her legs dangled hopelessly. He squinted his eyes. His breath was so foul that Annie had to cover her mouth with her hands. Mr. Alexander sniffed at her, licked his lips, and then dropped her on the ground. She landed on his foot. He did not flinch. “You do it.”
“Okay …” Annie moved off his foot and out of the way and reached out a trembling hand. She pushed the button.
The skis groaned and bucked a tiny bit.
“It’s not working,” Mr. Alexander whined.
“Try to think light thoughts,” Annie suggested, willing the skis to manage his weight. “Just give it a second.”
The skis lurched, lifting up into the air. Mr. Alexander bent forward, and then recovered his balance, managing to stay upright as the skis rapidly skidded ahead. Annie jumped out of the way, giving him plenty of room.
“One thing!” she yelled after him as the skis accelerated.
“Shut up, girl!” he hollered, heading toward the woods.
“But it’s important,” Annie called.
He ignored her.
“Okay, then, never mind,” Annie whispered as Mr. Alexander’s skis wrapped around either side of a massive tree in an impressive troll split. He hit the trunk with the full force of his body. The tree cracked and fell while Mr. Alexander bounced back the opposite way. He landed flat on his back in the snow.
Annie watched.
Annie waited.
He didn’t move. He was out cold.
“There’s no Stop button,” she whispered and turned away, heading back to her friends who were desperately trying to free themselves from the fallen branches.
Something thudded inside the Alexanders’ house. She stopped midstride. A horrifying scream from inside the house ripped across the cold night air.
31
Cats to the Rescue
The gnome was right there, smack in the middle of Jamie’s grandmother’s arms.
Now what?
He had to get it. He had to somehow pluck it away from her without waking her up. Jamie looked at the cat for aid. The cat shrugged.
“Not helpful,” he whispered. To be fair, though, the cat did find the gnome for him. She brought him right here. “How did you know?”
The cat wound herself around his legs. She rubbed the side of her head against his jeans and started purring. Jamie couldn’t believe it. How could a cat purr at a time like this? How could he even hesitate at a time like this? The whole town was depending on him. His friends were outside battling his dad, and here he was—being a coward.
Jamie stepped forward. His hands shook.
His grandmother did not move.
Jamie stepped forward again. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
Still, no movement. He put the flashlight in his pocket. The light beamed up at the ceiling, making a circle of brightness in the dark. I can do this … I can …
He stepped forward. His heart seemed to pause.
Reaching out his hand, Jamie held his breath. His fingers grabbed the tip of the gnome’s red cap. It was cool and hard to the touch. If he could just slide it out slowly, maybe his grandmother wouldn’t notice. He tightened his hold and pulled. The gnome slid through her arms. One inch … Another … Free!
Jamie grasped it with both hands. He had it. He really, truly had it.
Pow!
A giant hand snatched his forearm. He screamed.
His grandmother sat up, yanking him toward her. Her breath rushed into his face. “What are you doing, brat?”
“I—I—” Jamie tried to escape but she was too strong. Her fingers pushed into his skin, bruising it.
“Trying to take my gnomie?” she scoffed. “Think you could take my baby treasure. You fool. Can’t belie
ve you came back here, but I’m glad you did. Oh, yes, I am … Know why?”
“So you can eat me on my birthday?” Jamie squeaked.
“Exactly.” She laughed, but her laughter choked off into a grunt.
The cat, the gray cat that had led him into her room, had leaped upon her arm and was biting her wrist. Jamie’s grandmother dropped him. He plopped to the ground and hopped up on his feet again as she shrieked at the cat, batting it away. “Get off me.”
The cat flew across the room but lunged toward Mrs. Alexander again, hissing. As Jamie staggered backward out of the way, an astounding number of cats bounded through the doorway. His flashlight fell to the ground and rolled beneath their paws. They gracefully hurdled over it as they vaulted toward Mrs. Alexander, claws out and yowling.
The first cat peered back at Jamie and tilted her head at the door. He understood instantly. He ran out, clutching the gnome to his chest and scooping his flashlight into his hands as he raced into the hallway.
He met Annie halfway up the stairs. Her hair was askew and her eyes wide with fear. “Jamie, I heard a scream.”
“My grandmother … Come on …” He led her back down the stairs and outside even as more cats sprung into the house via the front door.
“What is going on with the cats?” Annie asked, stopping on the porch. “I’ve never seen so many cats.”
“No idea, but they are keeping my grandmother busy. We’ve got to go. I’ve got the gnome. Where are Bloom and Eva? Wait. Is that my dad?” He gazed at the giant form passed out by one of two knocked-over trees.
“Yeah …” Annie pulled Jamie toward the other tree, explaining that Eva and Bloom were trapped under it.
“We’re fine,” Eva yelled from beneath a blanket of leaves. “Can’t kill a dwarf and an elf. Not with a tree. No sirree! Bloom just needs to remember the stinking spell to get the tree off us.”
“I am trying,” Bloom’s voice came from the tangled branches. “But you keep interrupting me.”
“Well, that’s ’cause you’re so freaking slow,” Eva shot back.
“I have to concentrate, Eva. I don’t want to screw it up.”
Annie gave Jamie a help-me face and lifted up her shoulders as if to say she had no idea why they were like this. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Mrs. Alexander stormed out of the house. She had turned troll and was exceedingly large, too large to properly fit through the doorway. As she burst through it, she broke part of the wall. Cats hung from her clothing, and one even dangled from her hair. She shook them off, and they soared, flailing through the air before landing in the soft snow.
“I want my gnomie back!” she roared.
Jamie clutched it harder to his chest and whispered to Annie. “I don’t think she knows what it is. She was sleeping with it like a teddy bear.”
“Weird,” Annie whispered back as she struggled to move branches out of the way. Eva popped out first.
Bloom followed. He saw Mrs. Alexander and groaned, pulling twigs out of his hair. “Not another troll.”
“Where’s my ax?” Eva bellowed.
Annie pointed to a place in the snow, a good distance away from the house. Eva thundered toward it.
Mrs. Alexander’s eyes narrowed as she watched all of them. “Who am I going to eat first, huh?”
“You’re not supposed to eat us. You’re not even supposed to let us know you exist. You’re breaking all the rules,” Annie blurted. Once again winter lightning lit the sky.
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m sick of the rules, and ain’t nobody here to enforce them, are they? So … pshaw to rules.” Jamie’s grandmother seemed triumphant in her logic.
The cats began slinking toward her.
She glared at them. “Don’t try it.”
The cats stopped slinking.
Mrs. Alexander focused her attention on Jamie. “Give that to me.”
Jamie’s voice was quiet. “No.”
“What did you say?” she roared. She’d picked up one of the abandoned skis and brandished it like a weapon, threatening Jamie.
“No,” he repeated.
He scuttled a step sideways. But Annie had had enough of Jamie’s bullying excuse for a grandmother. She took a flying leap at the troll and managed to get enough height to grab at her arm. She hung there foolishly and screamed at Mrs. Alexander to leave them alone, that there would be no bullying anymore.
“And no eating! You will not eat anyone. Not on my watch. You got it?” Annie hollered.
Mrs. Alexander raised an eyebrow. She used her free hand to twist Annie’s arm.
Annie screeched in pain.
“Watch out!” Bloom yelled.
Annie let go of Mrs. Alexander just as a ball of light smashed into the troll. Bloom smiled triumphantly. Mrs. Alexander howled and lost her balance, thudding down the porch stairs, banging her head on every step. Annie and the cats scrambled to get out of the way of her falling bulk so as not to get caught beneath it.
Jamie helped Annie, grabbing her by the arm. The gnome was secure in his shirt again. He swallowed hard.
His grandmother wasn’t moving. She can’t be dead, can she? He didn’t know what to think, what to do. Only one thing—one person—came to mind: Annie. He’d take care of Annie.
“You okay?” he whispered, patting her arm awkwardly.
She sputtered. “I-I—I think so? I— Are you okay, Jamie? I’m worried about you.”
Before he could reassure her, Eva came roaring forward with the ax and stopped a foot away.
“A bit late, dwarf,” Bloom teased.
“The ax was stuck in a tree buried beneath the snow,” Eva grumped. “And I didn’t pass out … That’s your cue for applause.”
They ignored her. Annie gestured toward Jamie’s grandmother. “She’s not moving.”
“Trolls are prone to head injuries,” Bloom explained as Eva prodded the bottom of Mrs. Alexander’s foot with the ax.
“So she’s not dead?” Jamie asked.
“Unfortunately,” Eva grumped. “All this and I don’t even get to add a notch to my ax.”
They all stood there for an awkward second until Jamie told Bloom, “That whole ball-of-light thing was great.”
“Thanks. Elf magic.” Bloom stood a bit taller.
Eva rolled her eyes and herded them forward. “Come on. Let’s get the gnome back home before they wake up.”
Annie, Jamie, Eva, and Bloom left. They left the broken skis and the troll house. They left Jamie’s snoring “relatives” flat on the snow. The pack of cats, led by the gray one with the white mitten paws, followed them as they walked down the street and up toward the mountains, and Jamie swore that this time he was leaving for good. He would never, ever be coming back.
32
A Surprise Reunion
Side by side, they hustled down the darkness of Mount Desert, turning off the main street and up the hill by the stone church. The air still smelled faintly of burned wood from the fire at Mr. Nate’s house.
The wind gently blew snow against their disheveled clothes and dirty faces. The cold air seemed to wiggle into Annie’s aching bones and muscles, making every movement feel a bit slower and more difficult than it should have been. The sky above them was dark. Jamie gave Bloom the flashlight, and he lit the way back.
“I wish we still had the skis,” Eva grumbled as they trudged along.
“The skis almost killed us,” Bloom argued back.
Eva harrumphed.
Annie walked with Jamie. Her words echoed Eva’s. “I wish we still had Tala.”
“Me, too.” Jamie seemed a bit shell shocked. She couldn’t imagine what must be going through his head after what just happened.
“Are you okay?” She whispered low enough so the others wouldn’t hear.
He nodded. Then he shook his head no. “I’m—not sure?”
His voice squeaked, and he seemed so embarrassed about it that Annie had to try hard not to giggle.
“You two, be quiet,” Eva or
dered. “There could still be monsters lurking around anywhere. We’ve got to hurry and get this back before—”
A voice, rough and low and bossy, came out of the darkness. “You ain’t going nowhere.”
Annie knew that voice. She stopped midstep, staring into the darkness and trees.
Walden Wiegle stepped out into the road, right in front of Eva. His parka stretched across his chest. His boots sank deep into the snow. A wool hat barely covered up his ears. He pointed at Annie. “I see you, twerp.”
Annie swallowed hard. She would not be afraid of him. She would not be afraid of him. She would not be …
She trembled.
Jamie grabbed her by the arm. “Is he a troll?”
Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“He looks like one,” Eva grumbled. “He’s tall and ugly.”
“Eva!” Annie scolded. Even if it was true, it wasn’t nice.
“Shut up, munchkin,” Walden said. “I don’t even know what you are grumbling about.”
“Munchkin!” Eva raised her ax over her head.
Annie caught her by the arm. “Eva!”
“He called me a munchkin!” the dwarf said as if it explained everything.
“That doesn’t mean you should kill him,” Annie said, pulling her back a little bit. She hated Walden and everything he’d put her through, but that didn’t mean it was okay for him to die. She tried to calm her heart and braved herself to stare at him and say, “Walden. We need to get past you. We have something really important to do—”
“You!” he interrupted, scoffing. “You’re doing something important? Hold on. I have to laugh.”
Walden bent over and forced a mock guffaw.
“If he isn’t a troll, he really should be,” Jamie muttered as Walden continued to cackle.
“No truer thing has ever been said,” Bloom muttered, and then his voice took on a commanding tone, “Let us pass.”
Walden stood up. “Excuse me, blond boy? You’re the little sports star from school, aren’t you? Mr. Baseball?”
Bloom shrugged. “You need to leave.”
“You can’t order me around! Do you have any idea what that nothing, Nobody girl did?” He pointed at Annie.
“No,” Bloom answered. “But I know that you hurt—”