Troll Magic

“Hurry!” Charlotte anxiously whispered.

“Almost done!” I quickly slid the handwoven bag behind the interior siding of the loft of the barn. I quietly hammered the wooden panel closed, securing our hiding spot.

As we lowered ourselves down to the first level, I sadly gave the barn a final look. We spent several months constructing this beautiful building. I glanced over at Charlotte and gave her a reassuring nod. Oh, the joy that we had building and dreaming. I remember throughout that she had such a heartwarming smile. However, she was not beaming today. Instead, her face was ashen with fear.

We slid out the back and edged our way to the forest. We held hands. When our gaze met, she nodded solemnly and I spoke the enchantment spell. The fresh cedar barn turned ugly. It appeared old, rundown, unsafe and even haunted. Even the ground around it looked sunken and swampy. I added a few bones in the mud to further deter unwanted guests.

“Wilbur, are you sure this will work?”

“Yes.” I replied. I hoped it sounded confident. “The spell will only last one hundred years, though. For now, we need to get away as quickly as possible.”

We turned to go deeper into the forest and traveled about ten miles before we saw them coming. Charlotte shrieked and in her haste tripped. This made me tumble. I uttered the transformation spell, but it came out wrong during the chaos. Instead of us becoming human, I turned her into a spider and myself into a pig. She looked at me in horror and scurried behind a fallen twig.

A gruff voice behind me shouted: “Harry, it’s just a pig.” I took a cautious step backwards. He lunged forward to grab me. I felt his rough hand brush my ear. I took off, running faster and longer than I ever have in my life.

~~~~

“Charlotte!” I squealed. I was at my wits end. Every day for twenty years, I had searched every inch of the forest for my beloved wife. Some days I even doubled back to recover ground, just in case we passed each other as ships do in the night. I decided to once again recheck the barn. It would take me three days to get there, but maybe she went back there again.

I still hadn’t forgiven myself for turning her into a spider. How did that even happen? I had nightmares about her being squished or eaten. Without each other, we were powerless to turn ourselves back into trolls. Trolls mated for life and that’s when the magic would begin. Females held the magical source, but only the males could utter the spells. Once a spouse died, the other could never partake in magic again. Courtship was a creative adventure because couples could only discuss the potential of their magic. Each individual had a unique expression and the trick was to finding the perfect troll to compliment that gift. Luckily for me, matchmaking was what my great great grandparents excelled at. My grandmother could sense what power each girl had and my grandfather had the best memory in our village and a library of spells in his head. He taught his grandsons the formulas and let my grandmother know which of us was best suited to each type of spell. Together, they matched all of us up. My knack was that I retained knowledge about the properties of creatures and things. With Charlotte’s ability to reconstruct the exterior visual atoms, together we were able to manipulate the appearance of things – never the 'ness" of it, but how it would seem to others. Our spells did have a time limit. If we didn’t change them back, it would take 100 years to naturally be undone. If I didn’t find Charlotte and if together we didn't turn ourselves back, we’d have to wait another 80 years to manifest again as trolls; it was the same consequence, if either of us died. I was certain that she was tired of being treated as a spider. I certainly was tired of being a pig.

As I approached the barn, I saw a few farmers examining the open barn door. They didn't seem to be bothered by the sinking muddy moat that I created. They had created a makeshift bridge out of what looked like wood panels from the barn. It was even uglier and more rundown than we had designed it. My heart sank. "Did they find our hiding spot?"

As I got closer, I heard them discuss their wonder at how every few days a huge web was spun across the old barn’s doorway –always with a different word, sometimes a phrase. Today it read: “Bring me the pig!”

Unable to keep my emotions to myself, I squealed with delight.

The humans turned to look at me.

“Is THAT the pig? Let’s get him!”

I skidded through the mud and darted into the brush. This time I ran with a light heart full of hope. Tonight, I’d get to see my lady once again. This was even better than the treasure that we hid.