Chapter 33: Sentinel's Array

"What were you thinking? Attacking a police cruiser? Those things have cameras on them! We barely got away with the Centralia incident when you decided to galivant through there in the sixties. People luckily fell for the ruse and still think it was some freak underground fire. Unfortunately for you, Arcadia Oaks doesn't have any coal mines, Bular," almost shouted Strickler as he looked up at the towering black troll, the halfling so angry he was almost huffing.

Bular currently had his arms crossed over his chest and was standing there, looking ill amused. He had already threatened to eat Stricklander once this evening, but that hadn't worked like it usually did. In fact, this little argument was about an hour or two later than it should have been. The other impures were all running around trying to fix the issue but Stricklander was very obviously absent.

The dark troll couldn't help but tilt his head and show off one of his fangs as he groused, "I almost had that old fool-cop. He's been dogging my nightly routes since I got to this hovel of a human settlement. He needed to be eaten before he got too tough."

The changeling actually rolled his eyes, but Bular continued with a threatening growl as he leaned in, "As for the children, they had a horngazel. I wasn't just trying to fill my gullet this evening. So, unlike you, I at least was trying to get the bridge piece back. So where were you tonight, impure? I couldn't help but notice you were oddly absent."

At this, Strickler's eyes widened as if he had been caught in a lie. He even backed down slightly, a finger coming up and loosening his collar.

"Well, you see, I was away on business," tried to quickly defend Walter, more than aware that the black troll had started to lean in, his teeth slowly being bared like an attack dog.

"Business! What business is more important than freeing my father?!" barked Bular into the changeling's face, causing Strickler to wince as spittle rained over him.

One eye still half-closed and squinting, Strickler reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off his face.

"I'll have you know," said Strickler as he stepped in closer, his back straightening and his spirit returning. "I was trying to find a resolution as well. You just got lucky lurking about."

The shouting might have continued or escalated if a terrified masked changeling didn't suddenly stumble into the room. "S-sorry to interrupt, but Rockholder has returned."

The two powerful figures threw glowing glares at the interloper and the poor changeling audibly swallowed.

Stuffing his hanky back into his vest pocket with a snap of his wrist, Strickler hissed, "I think we are done with this discussion. I have a mess to clean up," and with that he folded his hands behind his back and walked out of the room.

Bular's lip twitched as he watched the changeling depart, a low growl escaping him as he stood alone in the room at headquarters. He didn't know what got into Strickler tonight, but he didn't like it. The impure was acting as if he could win in a fight … or at least had a heavy hitter in his corner.

Eyes still glowing in the dim room, Bular tromped off to find a snack ... and if he found some answers about Strickler's odd behavior at the same time, he would just count that as dessert.

…

Walking a few rooms over, Strickler stepped into a meeting room with a little coffee counter and a changeling that looked entirely too proud of himself. Roy Rockhold was all red hair and freckles, his long legs currently on top of the small table in the room as he leaned precariously in his chair. He even had the audacity to smile wickedly over his sunglass, a sucker in his mouth like a child.

It was not a secret amongst there kind, but Stricklander loathed Rockholder and his cheeky attitude. Rocklander was one of the few changelings raised in the Americas before the Fetch was originally lost, and it showed. Some might even call it pride on Roy's part, but Strickler called it stupidity.

All changelings claimed that the household in which they were raised as human children didn't affect them but looking at individuals likes Rockhold showed that to be a blatant lie. The only parents a changeling ever had were the human ones … something was bound to rub off.

"I almost thought I was going to win the dead pool for a moment there, listening to you two bicker down the hall. I put money on Bular eating you ages ago. Color me disappointed," said Rockhold boldly while he leaned further back in his chair, still sucking on a sucker.

Strickler glared at the younger changeling, "Get your feet off the table and get rid of that thing in your mouth. It's unbecoming."

Sighing, the changeling removed his legs from the table, his chair making a clanking noise as it returned to four legs instead of just two. He kept his sucker though, smiling around the stick as he laughed, "Well, aren't you all sunshine and daisies today Stricklander, and here I thought you would be glad to see me … especially since I'm here cleaning up your mess."

"What are you even doing here? I thought your position at the FBI kept you in Washington?" asked Walter, his eyes a slit and entirely unimpressed.

"Something stirred up the crazy at Base 49-B, so the humans sent me over. Nothing to worry about," said Rockhold, his grin making him look more foxlike than usual.

"I see," murmured Strickler wearily, feeling like the changeling before him was making an inside joke. "And what are you sucking on?"

"A cherry sucker. Want one? It might make you taste better," coyly replied Roy as he pulled a small collection of suckers out of his suit pocket. "You look like a sour grape individual if you ask me."

Lip twitching, Stricker didn't dignify the request with an answer. Instead, he straightened his jacket and looked down his nose, asking, "So, did you run interference with the Bular incident? We don't need another Centralia incident."

"The dashcam and all its backups met an unfortunate and glitchy end. And the kids, everyone thinks they're suffering from group hysteria, but if they keep yacking, they can always conveniently fall off a bridge or something," said Roy simply.

"And what of the Sergeant who found the children?" said Walter stiffly, trying not to twitch at the mention of his students meeting a grizzly end.

"I told him he should consider early retirement. That head wound might finally be getting to him," chuckled Roy. "He didn't seem to like that answer. So, if you want, I can always eat him."

Having long outgrown most troll tastes like human flesh, Walter waved the other changeling off, "Do as you need to but make sure it doesn't come back on us. That man has been snooping around since the whole Milk Carton fiasco. It is a wonder he has never stumbled upon something beforehand."

…

The sun was rising by the time they were allowed to go home, and Toby didn't know how to feel about that. It meant Jim was alone down in Troll Market still and that everyone currently thought he was hysterical thanks to that FBI dufus. Apparently, he had somehow convinced the rest of his classmates, aka the Creepslayerz, that there were monsters in this world and that they had taken Jim.

Well, they gave him entirely too much credit if they thought he could manipulate other people like that. He couldn't even manipulate his socks on.

Thus, now, Toby was a crazy kid. The hospital had even recommended some psychologists to Nana.

Nana though … Nana was so happy to see him.

"Welcome home, Toby," said the aging woman warmly as she opened the door for them both, the officer still parked outside after dropping them off. They still thought Toby and Jim were kidnap victims and worried about the perpetrator returning. Toby doubted a single police cruiser would keep the likes of Bular away after what he nearly did to Sergeant Gulager, but for some reason, stepping into that familiar kitchen with its familiar smells, he felt safe anyway.

Home.

He hadn't even realized he had missed it until now.

Troll Market was great and all, don't get him wrong, but he missed his bed. He missed Nana's cooking, and he missed the way she would run a hand through his hair just like she as doing right now.

Looking up, trying to smile because that was what Nana needed right now, Toby's heart sank. Nana's eyes were threatening to overflow, her eyelashes heavy with tears that had yet to fall. She ran a hand through his hair again, her voice soft, "I thought I had lost you as well, Toby-Pie. I thought … I thought you had left me, just like Ralph had."

Toby's stomach sank, something wet gathering in the corners of his eyes. Whenever Nana mentioned his father Ralph, his heart would clench. He knew he looked like his father, braces and all. So, when Nana looked at him, Toby knew she saw his father in him, and when he disappeared like that … it probably felt like Ralph had died all over again.

He never wanted her to feel that way. Ever. Not when Nana had taken him in and loved him without question.

Feeling his throat tighten at the thought of worrying her, Toby murmured, "I'm sorry, Nana. I never meant for you to worry about me."

Eyes still threatening to overflow, the woman offered a sad smile as she continued to pet his hair, "Oh Toby-Pie, it's my job to worry about you. I'm your nana after all and I love you."

"I'm still sorry," said Toby, trying to blink back the gathering tears. This was their first quiet moment together since he arrived for a checkup at the hospital. Standing here, in the kitchen he had basically grown up in, it put the world into perspective. He still had to save Jim, but he also had to take care of Nana as well.

Covering the distance, Toby initiated a hug, the smell of her perfume filling his nose as he buried his head into her chest. It wasn't a panicked or rushed embrace like the one in the hospital. It was warm and full of want so that the other knew that they were loved and needed.

"I love you too, Nana," finally whispered Toby into the aging woman's chest, his tears being absorbed by the floral pattern of her dress.

…

Jim had concluded that Draal was the worst patient ever. Of all time. In all existence … ever. Wait, did he already say ever?

Man, he was tired. When had he last slept?

Regardless, Draal kept squirming away, trying to escape like a child. True, Jim knew nothing was wrong with the arm, but Vendel kept throwing them odd glances whenever Draal started asking questions about it suddenly falling off. It took the rest of the night for Vendel to convince the blue troll that limbs just don't fall off for no reason. Once Draal left, still protective of his arm, Vendel grumbled that Kanjigar was still worse before he directed Jim back to the study.

Once in the study, new Alignment Stones were given to the teenager and calibrated. These were larger ones than the last set with perfectly cut edges. And then Jim was given a crash course on Rune Detailing. It was probably already mid-morning by the time Jim finished his first set of protection runes and was sent to his dwell. Jim was so dead tired on his feet that he didn't even remember walking to his dwell. For all he knew, the town guard had carried him the last few blocks like a sleepy toddler.

All he knew was that he had enough cognitive skill to place his Alignment Stones and Detailed Runes around his dwell before he collapsed face-first into his pile of bed furs. He laid there for a moment, groaning in exhaustion. Today almost felt like a full day of Trollhunter training with Blinky, except he was mostly mentally tired instead of bruised. It was probably on purpose knowing Vendel. The conniving old goat.

True, he knew Vendel wasn't being vindictive (okay, maybe a little; it was Vendel), but using magic was a good distraction. Jim honestly didn't want to remember being left behind. He didn't want to remember telling Draal his most protected secret, and he sure didn't want to be reminded that he didn't even have Toby here to lighten his mood anymore.

Laying there a moment more, Jim sat up and peeled off his buckle-jacket, making a mental note to ask for some new clothes. Trolls may wear the same things for weeks or years in a row, but Jim was tired of looking like he escaped a cosplay convention by throwing himself down a ditch.

Running a hand through his hair, his mind tired but still repeating the evening's events on loop, Jim pulled the leather book out of the back of his shirt. He still couldn't believe that neither Draal nor Vendel noticed the bulk on his back. The book barely fit, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Honestly, he hadn't originally been planning on taking anything, but when he was standing there pretending to read through the shelf, he had opened this leather-bound book at random … and immediately found a spell that could help him.

His Trollish wasn't the best, but it did mention a blade that could cut through magical items. It was a casters tool. Whatever that meant. It also could be used as a potion-makers tool. It apparently could cut through unicorns horn and dragons scale. Plus, other magical objects that Jim didn't know were a thing, but from what he understood from the description it should cut through the boundary band.

Paging through the book, Jim found himself at the beginning and reading out loud so he didn't fall asleep sitting there, "First, one must obtain a Blood-Letter's Blade also known as a Blood Mage's Blade to use this book effectively ... Well, that isn't ominous as all."

Nonetheless, Jim continued to dissect the bulky Trollish letters. The beginning went on to describe popular materials used to make these types of blades, but it did say that the best preexisting blades were always an innocent's weapon taken.

Jim immediately reached into his pants pocket and took out Eli's swiss army knife. Eli was pretty innocent. Plus, the knife was taken without permission (though he doubted Eli would have minded) so it technically fit the description. The book went on to show what runes to cave into the hilt or blade. This made Vendel's lesson on runes immediately useful. Then it said to bury it in gravesand before feeding it the first time.

"Gravesand, huh?" murmured Jim to himself. "Wait … What did they mean by feeding it?

"Young Seer? Are you still awake?" came a knock on the rough wooden door of the dwell, Kanjigar's voice muffled but very distinguishable.

Jim immediately panicked like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He tripped around his room in alarm, trying to decide where to hide the book. Had Vendel already noticed it was missing? Probably, if only because Vendel was involved.

"Young Jim? Is everything alright?" came the Trollhunter's voice again, concern lacing his tone as the door started to open.

Not knowing what else to do, Jim hid the book in plain sight on a small study table in the room, piling a haphazard stack of other books on top of it before he awkwardly leaned on the pile, smiling nervously as Kanjigar entered the room.

Immediately, the troll was on edge.

"What's wrong?" asked the Trollhunter cautiously as he stepped further into the dwell, looking around before his eyes settled on the teenager.

"Nothing, nothing," replied Jim in a choked manner, moving away from his book pile only to awkwardly have to catch the leaning stack since it couldn't stand on its own. "Just some light reading before bed."

Kanjigar eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he seemed to accept the response. Instead, he sighed, "Seer Jim … I wanted to speak about what happened this night. I know that the circumstances are far from ideal, but –"

Jim put up a hand, suddenly angry and exhausted, "I don't want to talk about this right now, Kanjigar. Far from ideal is an understatement. It obvious that you didn't catch my friends, so if that's what you've come to talk about, I'm going to bed instead."

Frowning deeply, the troll shifted on his feet apprehensively before nodding, "As you wish, Seer Jim. I did come for another reason though. Vendel mentioned that something tried to enter your dream-scape last time you slept."

Jim's stomach sank at the reminder. If felt like days since he slept last … but it had only been a day and he was no longer tired. Maybe, he should just not sleep today.

Swallowing thickly, Jim rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah, that."

Kanjigar nodded, noting the teenager's change in behavior immediately. If he smelled a slight tang of fear from the boy, he decided to not mention it. Instead, he continued, "I see that you have already been given new Alignment Stones. Very good. Vendel also asked for me to perform a Sentinel's Array in the dwell before you rested for some added protection."

Jim, absentmindedly plucking at his boundary bracelet, stalled, suddenly curious, "Sentinel's Array? What is that?"

Humming, Kanjigar plucked a piece of writing chalk from the little writing-table, his hand lashing out to keep the book pile from toppling over. Jim suddenly looked nervous, but the blue troll waved it off, "Nothing to be frightened of, Young Jim. Arrays are a complicated magic that alchemists favor. It is a type of Detailed Rune and Ley Line Calculation, technically, and can be somewhat temperamental if done inaccurately."

Looking from the chalk to Kanjigar's surprisingly nervous expression, Jim took on a concerned expression himself, "Do you know how to make an Array?"

Sighing, one of his hands coming up and pinching his nose bridge, Kanjigar admitted, "Magic is not my forte."

Still kind of angry at the trolls but far from ever wanting to hurt one unnecessarily, Jim offered his hand out for the chalk, "Vendel taught me the basics on Rune Detailing this morning. I can try it."

Shaking his head, Kanjigar added, "No, I cannot allow you to do that, Young Jim. I appreciate the offer, you will be a fine wizard one day, but a Sentinel's Array is something that requires Daylight's magic. I was taught how to do it during my Trollhunter training, but it has never been asked of me until now."

"You were taught during your Trollhunter training?" repeated Jim, his chest feeling somewhat tight. Was that something he was supposed to be taught? Had he slept through that lesson or ignored that book? Or had he not been skilled enough as a Trollhunter to be taught?

"Yes," said Kanjigar simply as he walked over to the southern wall, drawing a small circle with the chalk and then a rune signifying South in the middle. "All Trollhunter's are taught the basics of magic since the amulet does give a source to use. Nothing to the caliber you will be learning, Seer Jim, but magic bestowed the title of Trollhunter onto us. It only makes sense to learn some. As a Trollhunter, it's normal to face a colorful collection of challenges and opponents after all."

The troll then headed West, North, and East drawing other such circles on the walls, completely ignorant to Jim's troubled expression.

"Now, for the main array. It has to be in the middle of the dwell," said Kanjigar to himself, stepping before the main door and kicking away a worn rug that was held together with duct tape. He then got into his knee and started to draw a large circle, lines crisscrossing about inside. He added several other runic symbols inside as well as a few Trollish ones. Soon, he huffed in satisfaction, apparently pleased with himself.

Jim smiled weakly as Kanjigar stood, part of him wanting to storm out of the dwell and ask Blinky why he hadn't been deserving of magic lessons as the Trollhunter. Then again, if it was Vendel that taught those things, everything made sense. Plus, Jim had a school year to learn everything, Kanjigar had decades. So, it wasn't worth blowing his cover as an ex-Trollhunter. Draal already seemed traumatized by the information, and he didn't want Blinky looking at him like that as well.

"Stand back please," said Kanigar, holding the amulet over the array and using the translator setting. Then, seemingly satisfied, the troll called Daylight to his hands, the large blade lighting up the room.

Jim tried not to seem envious, part of him missing the weight of that blade and its light. He felt so helpless without it and none of the blades Draal gave him were quite right. So, instead of staring, he looked down at the complete array.

Kanjigar was now muttering something in Trollish, low and barely audible. Daylight seemed to glow a little brighter and then he tapped the blade's tip into the middle of the circled array. It reacted immediately, a stiff breeze seeming to come out of nowhere and shock Jim, making the boy take a step back as the lines in the array all started to light up including the small ones on the walls.

The Trollhunter didn't react though. He just kept muttering, the wind now twirling around the array like a mini typhoon. The light was getting brighter and brighter until the lines started to burn into the floor and walls. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over, a flash of light causing Jim to close his eyes and turn his gaze way.

The teenager was still seeing spots when Kanjigar stepped before him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "The Sentinel's Array is complete. It will guard you against unseeing entities and if one does manage to enter uninvited, I will know immediately as the caster. Now, rest. It's been a hard day for you, Young Jim."

Still blinking spots away, Jim watched the troll leave and then he was alone once more. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, staring at the burned symbol on the floor. He knew he should read the stolen book, but he suddenly felt so very tired. So, he made a compromise and took the small leather book simply labeled Bleeding Magic to bed. He was asleep before he even finished reading two pages.

In the middle of the room, the Sentinel's Array lit up for a moment before fading once again.

XXX

Paw07: I should write a timeline for this. Jim really hasn't been down there that long, which is hard to note when there are 33 chapters. XD

Anyway, this chapter was a mixed basket. Got some Strickler time, Toby hugs, and Jim magic. I really love hug scenes. My fic Reluctant Hero recently had a lot of them, so those feels kind of made their way over here. It's probably a way to counteract all the angst everywhere. As for the world-building, well, who doesn't love a little magic?

Speaking of which, is there an official release date for Wizards yet? I thought it was supposed to come out before the end of the year.