Well, who’s to say last night wasn’t fated. This part of the long scene I just wrote came out pretty well, and I doubt I would have written it if I’d tried it last night.
***
“What’d you want to go to Chicago for?” said David. “The big city is a really bad place for us.”
“Why?”
“We’re trolls, right? We’re linked to nature. Being made of rock and ice and stuff like that, we are nature. Cities aren’t natural.”
“Sure they are,” said Hild.
“And we’re magic,” continued David. “Cities have lots of iron. Doesn’t iron block out magic?”
“You don’t know anything,” said Hild.
“It’s those books,” said Grant.
“What books?”
Grant smiled indulgently, which he knew Hild hated. “She reads all these books about tough faeries in the city.”
“As if!” snorted David.
Grant made a helpless gesture. “Leather coat wearing Irish pretty faeries who seduce mortal women and bring them into worlds of dangerous magic.”
“Shut up,” said Hild, a note of warning in her voice.
David laughed. “Oh yeah. ‘Don’t eat the food in my land, Mortal Spitfire, or you will be doomed to stay, unless you kick the crap out of the bad guy faeries.’”
“You guys don’t know anything,” said Hild.
“I know enough. Trolls not good enough for you, Hildi? Want to take one of the elves to the prom?” David smile crooked into smarmy.
Hild slugged him in the arm.
Grant sighed. “Hild has just proven to you that she can take any troll, and that you won’t be her prom date.”
“Damn straight,” said Hild.
***
Happy Wednesday!
Catherine
