The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) Read Free

stood for that?” she said in amazement.
     
    “Of course the houses squabbled over it for a few weeks,” he said. “But Demetrius is really popular among the common folk. He did liberate them from you and your dead husband after all.”
     
    Elise quivered with rage as she put on the sturdy boots that were in the bag. It wasn’t anger at Demetrius or even the other nobles. It was anger at herself. If only she hadn’t wasted the months after the war descending into madness.
     
    “Kind of funny when you think about it,” he added. “All that trouble they went through to get rid of one King Vriil, just to crown another.”
     
    “I could have done something about this,” she said. “I know how to pull strings. I could have salvaged the situation. Perhaps even held onto my throne.”
     
    “Yeah? Well you didn’t,” Nod said. He gripped the edges of the door and pried it slowly open. “Now let’s go. The master’s got plans.”
     

Chapter One
     
     
     
    “Perhaps I do have need of someone like you,” the Troll King said. He stood from his crumbling throne, leaving a thin slimy residue behind.
     
    Mellinda, who had been leaning over him, was forced to take a step back to keep from being knocked over. The king’s muscular seven-foot frame towered over her and as he peered down at her with his mismatched eyes, she felt an electric thrill. To think that her work over a thousand years ago had led to this person.
     
    The Troll King was a living dichotomy. Like all of the trollkin his body was part troll and part something else, but his deformations were quite distinct. The right side of his body was handsome and human, while his left side was frightening and trollish. His left eye glowed a dull red, the left side of his mouth was overly wide and filled with sharp teeth, and the fingers of his left hand were long and tipped with wicked black claws. Somewhere, he had found an ancient garment that hadn’t completely rotted away. It was made out of what had once been rich green silk and was draped over one shoulder and belted at his waist.
     
    His voice was a raspy tenor only partially slurred by the deformation of his mouth. “Come with me, Snake Woman. I would take you to the Mother’s womb.”
     
    Mellinda held back a retort. It was the third time he had referred to her as a snake. If the fool had any idea who she really was, he wouldn’t dare. He and his people should all be bowing and scraping to her.
     
    Nevertheless, she forced a smile and gave him a bow of her own. “Of course, my king.” Mellinda meekly stood aside as the king walked towards the rear of his chamber.
     
    “ He’s right, you know. You are a snake ,” said another, unwelcome voice from within her mind. “ At least he knows it before letting you in. I wish I would have known .”
     
    Her reply to this second voice was mental, You should know by now that your insults mean nothing to me, Arcon .
     
    “ I bet it’s the rings that help him see it ,” Arcon observed. “ You give away your true nature with every movement .”
     
    The comment stung but Mellinda did not let her irritation show. It had been weeks since she had turned the power of the rings inward and she still didn’t quite have full control over her new body’s eccentricities. The rings had turned her limbs snakelike. Keeping them under control required a constant amount of concentration and Arcon did his best to undermine her efforts whenever possible.
     
    You seek to distract me, but your voice is as a mere buzzing of a fly. Easily ignored , she replied.
     
    “ In that case you won’t mind if I rattle off a list of other animals I could compare you to ,” Arcon said with amusement. “ Let’s see. Vulture, slug, muskrat, moonrat, mole, salamander, dog, wolf, goat . . . ”
     
    Mellinda gritted her teeth. This was another of Arcon’s techniques to annoy her. When regular insults didn’t work, he fell back on chanting inane lists of words.