Hapenny Magick by Jennifer Carson Page B

seeing her. She forced her hand back into the binding.
    Taureck screwed up her face. “’Gelbane said, Gelbane said’! Do you always do what Gelbane said?”
    â€œYou and me, we’re to go to the others and tell them the way’s made open.” Nord grabbed a fallen limb from the ground. “Let’s truss that ‘un up so she don’t try to kicksy us no more.”
    It was hard to breathe with the smelly rag in her mouth, and Mae’s wrists stung from the rub of the rope. The runes were gone. The trolls controlled the bridge, which meant they were free to invade the village. She was too late to repair the runes, but at least she could help her friend and maybe warn the others.
    Her flute and wand slid from her pocket and bounced into the grass as the two trolls trussed her to the branch. Mae shrieked and wiggled. She needed her wand! Taureck smacked her upside the head. “Be quiet, loathsome creature! Dinner’s not supposed t’ talk.”
    The trolls bent over with laughter as Mae swung like a suckling pig, stars filling her eyes. A smudge of daylight crept into the eastern sky. Her heart sank into her apron pocket as Taureck noticed the flute in the grass. The troll picked it up and stroked the shiny finish.
    â€œWhatcha find, Taureck?” Nord asked.
    Taureck folded the flute protectively in her hand. “Nuttin’, just some shiny bits of wood.”
    â€œLet’s go, then.” Nord scowled. “Gelbane is waitin’ on us, and you know she don’t like to waitey.”
    Mae bounced painfully as the trolls lumbered along the wooded path.
    Nord halted at the bridge, eyeing it with uncertainty. “Uh, ladies first.”
    Taureck shoved the pole Mae was trussed to into Nord, pushing him toward the planks of the bridge. “Oh, no. I insist you have the pleasure.”
    â€œBut—I—”
    â€œLet’s go, you lowly good-for-nothings!” Gelbane shrieked. “We don’t have time for your ninny-naggin’. The magick’s gone!”
    Nord stepped forward with hesitance, searching for the wood of the bridge with the tip of his toe. One eye was pinched shut; the other was only half open. Mae heard him take a deep, nervous breath. Mae held her breath, too. Perhaps luck was with her. Maybe Gelbane didn’t quite finish the job.
    Nord planted his foot on the bridge and froze.
    A breeze sped through the trees.
    The leaves rattled.
    â€œC’mon, nitwit!” Gelbane advanced over the bridge and gave Nord’s head a swipe with her fist. “You be alive. ‘Tis a relief to know I did the job right.”
    Nord and Taureck exchanged a glance.
    â€œLet me see what you’ve got there.” Gelbane bent to peer at Mae. She ran a stubby finger across Mae’s cheek as a wicked smile spread across her face. “Looks like you caught my runaway.”
    â€œShe bit me, so she’s the first ‘un to go!” Taureck cackled.
    â€œNo, she’s the last. I’m going to enjoy the look on her face when I eat her friends.” Gelbane plucked the gag from Mae’s mouth. “What do you have to say about that?”
    Mae’s stomach churned with loathing. She scowled at Gelbane but did not answer. The wicked snigger Mae had heard too often in the last six years settled over the fields.
    â€œFollow me quickly.” Gelbane turned down the path. “You need to be gone before the Wedge awakes.”
    Sooner than Mae could believe, they were halfway down the path that would take them to her home. In the dim light of dawn, the flowers growing out of the earthen roof were wilted and sad. The tree branches drooped to the ground. The rooster crowed at the rising sun. The chickens clucked sleepily from the trees at the edge of the forest. Mae hoped she wasn’t hearing the rooster’s crow for the last time.
    Gelbane slammed the front door open and gestured to the hallway. “Put her in