Simon swallowed the rest of the sentence. Jack swore. Dead ahead of them, less than fifty feet away, at the next intersection, waited the same four trolls.
“You gave me the finger,” rumbled the lead monster. “That wasn’t nice. I’m gonna bite your hand off for that.”
“Back the way we came,” Jack shouted and set off as fast as he was able.
Running hurt, but he managed decent speed for three blocks. Again, there was no sign of any pursuit. Simon, features grim, caught up with him right past the intersection of two streets.
“How did they do that?” Jack gasped, bending over and trying to regain his breath.
“I’m not sure,” said Simon. “Nobody knows what powers trolls possess. Unfortunately, that’s because…”
“…nobody survives to tell the tale,” said Jack. “Any idea what hurts them other than mistletoe?”
“Cold iron?” suggested the changeling.
“I doubt it,” answered Jack, “seeing that they carried chains and knives.”
“They’re back,” said Simon.
Jack shook his head in despair. The trolls stood less than twenty feet behind them. They were close enough for him to see the nasty glint in their tiny eyes.
“We know shortcuts,” said the troll wearing the brass knuckles. “Lotsa shortcuts. You can’t escape us.”
“Nobody escapes trolls,” added the troll with the chain. “Nobody.”
“There’s always a first time,” said Simon. “Climb on my back and grab hold of my neck, Jack. No arguments. I’m stronger than I look. And you’re in no condition to run.”
Incredibly, Simon ran for nearly eight blocks carrying Jack piggyback before finally collapsing to the pavement. Lying side by side in the street, man and changeling waited for the inevitable arrival of the trolls.
“One trick left,” said Simon, pushing himself up on one elbow. His features wavered and changed. Jack gasped as he stared at his own face for the second time in twenty-four hours. He would never be comfortable with Simon’s talent.
“Two Jack Collinses,” said Simon. “They won’t know which one is real. Seeing double might confuse them long enough for us to escape.”
“More likely they’d merely rip both our heads off,” replied Jack.
“Good point,” said the changeling, letting his features return to normal. “Now that you mention it, I think I’ll stick with my own handsome visage.”
The air in the intersection ahead of them rippled and twisted as four trolls emerged out of nothingness. Wearily, Jack struggled to his feet, pulling Simon with him.
“That’s the secret,” Jack declared, astonished. “They cross space through four-dimensional crossroads. Somehow, they mix quantum mechanics and magic. Incredible.”
“I get the message,” said Simon. “If they use intersections, we won’t. Head for that alley.”
Narrow alleyways cut through many of Chicago’s older neighborhoods. Continuing in straight lines for miles, they provided rear access and limited parking for homes stacked one against another. And served as garbage routes for the city’s sanitation department.
Ducking around a large red Dumpster, Jack and Simon wheezed their way past locked garages and high wood fences. After a few minutes, they came to where the alley crossed the next street. No trolls appeared as they darted over the pavement and back into the passage.
“I hear them behind us,” Simon declared cheerfully, “moving with the grace of a herd of elephants. It appears that alley openings must not qualify as proper intersections. Twenty minutes and they’ll be hopelessly behind us. I can’t imagine that crossroad trick works if they have no idea where we are.”
Jack nodded in agreement. Their near brush with death had badly shaken his nerves. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
With darkness falling, they didn’t discover their deadly mistake until it was too late. Concentrating on the trolls behind them, they paid little attention to the alleyway ahead of them. Until it abruptly ended in a makeshift barbed-wire fence that stretched from one side of the passage to the other. Invisible from the street, the barrier effectively barred them from continued retreat.
“Hey,” said Simon. “Don’t these people know it’s illegal to block an alley?”
“We’ll report them later,” said Jack. “If we don’t move fast, those trolls will trap us here.”
Hurriedly, they backtracked to the mouth of the alley. And found their pursuers waiting for them.
“No more running,” said the troll leader, pounding one huge hand into the other. “We kill you now.”
“It’s against the law to murder people,” said Jack. His head turned desperately from side to side, searching for help. “Besides, violence never solves anything. Can’t we talk?”
He pulled the Universal Charge Card from his pocket. “I’ll pay you double what von Bern offered if you leave us alone. Think of that—double the price for not working.”
“Pay in gold?” asked the troll wearing brass knuckles.
“Not exactly,” said Jack. “ATMs don’t deal in precious metals. But cold cash will buy all the gold you want.”
“Nah,” said the troll with the chain. “It don’t matter what you offer. I like killing.”
“Me too,” said the leader. He spread open his gigantic arms. An evil grin spread across his face. “I’m gonna twist your head right off your shoulders.”
Jack clenched his hands into fists. If he was going to die, he planned to the fighting, useless as that might be.
“Is this a private party?” someone asked calmly from the darkness behind the trolls. “Or can anybody join in?”
20
Ponderously, the trolls turned. The leader of the monsters grunted in surprise when he spotted the speaker. A tall, attractive black woman, she leaned casually against a solitary streetlight. Both of her hands loosely gripped a thick wooden walking staff. Capped with silver on each end, the stick was covered with unusual glyphs faintly visible in the moonlight. The woman smiled and nodded in a friendly fashion at Jack and Simon. She possessed no aura.
“Don’t bother me, girlie,” growled the troll leader, flexing his sausage-sized fingers threateningly. “This fight ain’t any concern of yours. Make trouble and you’ll be next.”
“Oh, my, my, my,” replied the mysterious woman, her voice tinged with sarcasm. “I do believe you intend to commit acts of violence towards my friends. Sorry, but I can’t permit that.”
“Friends?” whispered Jack to Simon. “You know this woman?”
Simon sighed deeply and smiled. “Indeed I do. She’s Cassandra Cole. At least, that’s the name she’s used for the past few hundred years. Deliverance is at hand, Jack. Think of her as the cavalry, Captain America, Hulk Hogan, and the Force combined into one. Cassandra makes Wonder Woman look like a Twinkie.”
Evidently, the trolls were not aware of Cassandra’s reputation. And they were too stupid to wonder why one woman risked taunting four of them. Their original quarry forgotten, the quartet spread out in a line facing their new enemy.
“You can’t permit it?” repeated the troll with the chain. He swung the metal links in an ever-widening circle over his head. The steel whistled with each rotation.
“She thinks she’s tough,” said the troll with the switchblade. With the click of a button, the knife opened, revealing an eight-inch blade.
“Real tough,” agreed the third troll, smashing together its brass-knuckled fists. Sparks flew as metal hit metal.
“She needs to be taught a lesson,” declared the leader of the monsters. “I hate uppity broads.”
“Should we try to help her?” Jack whispered urgently to Simon. “There’s four of them.”