The shadows cast from the trees over the road made it difficult to see where I was walking exactly. And as I wasn't familiar with this road, my steps remained unsure. If we’d had a spare lantern, I would have brought it. A jagged piece of rock or root caught my boot and I almost stumbled to the ground. Maybe I should have just left during the daylight and accepted whatever sharp word my mother had for me. Even awake, she might have been too busy to notice. 

If I was gone in the morning, she’d surely notice that. And be furious. I hoped she wouldn’t go looking for me and waste time that she, as she always claimed, didn’t have to spare. I looked back at the road I’d walked down and couldn’t even see traces of the village anymore. Were the road not leading me, there wouldn’t be any sign of human architecture at all. As I walked further and further, the road got darker and darker. Something unseen in the night flapped leathery wings and I found myself hoping it was just Auden and his bird. But no one popped out to wax poetry or lie to me. 

“Hoo,” I called out, pretending to be an owl for a moment. I wondered how witches got their familiars. If I was to be a witch, I wouldn’t mind a bird of some sort. Like a wise owl. Or an eagle. 

I wasn’t surprised when nothing called back out to me. It was just a spurring desire. I’d lost track of time and wondered how much longer I’d need to walk. Sometimes, when I looked up, the moon seemed to have shifted across the sky. Other times, it didn’t seem to have moved at all. If just the bridge was this far, I could see why most people in the village didn’t want the trouble of traveling. It made me wonder how everyone was going to get to the castle for the ball. 

For a while, I tried to whistle. Then I tried skipping. I was going to try singing when I caught my first change in the landscape. Large half-broken bricks of stone were partially buried in the ground to indicate I was approaching the bridge. Either they had been a part of the architecture long ago, or they’d just worn down to that shape over time. The trees spread out more as I got closer to the river’s bank. By the road, I could see the grass turn to dried-out dirt that dipped down into what was probably once the river at its glory. The dirt and rocks went down deep until they turned black, and I assumed the water was down there somewhere. I was much happier walking upwards onto the cobblestones of the bridge. 

I would have liked to see the bridge in the daytime. It spanned across what looked like an empty ravine now, but I’m sure when the river had been full, it had to have been beautiful. The design spoke of practicality rather than artistry. Large stone bricks hewn from study grey mineral made up its entirety; in the snow and moonlight it almost looked like granite. But I wasn’t sure if such expensive stone was used for bridges. More likely it was limestone. The top edges of the pillars were weather-worn and entwined with stubborn moss. Once they might have been specific designs or shapes, but now they just looked like the top of unadorned ledges. I let my hands drag across them despite the cold. Maybe it was because this was a new place, or it represented the edge of the village, but I liked it. This height, however, really reminded me that we lived surrounded by cliffs and unforgiving waters. The ocean was still far away from us, but it felt closer now. It felt like something I could see.

When Maggie had talked about people creating things with something special, I thought the person who designed this must have had that something special. If the bridge had been here before the troll, maybe it was because something about this bridge had heart. And that was why the troll had decided to live under it. The arch up of the road across was gradual and even. I stopped when I thought I was about halfway across. That seemed as good a spot as any, and I looked over the side of the parapet. 

There was only darkness down there. I couldn’t even see the water from where I was. But I could imagine a troll lived down there once upon a time.

“Hello?” I said down into the darkness. There was no reply to that either. For a few minutes, I went entirely silent, trying to hear the gentle running of water. No indication of that either. I should have asked Auden how to give the tithe. That was assuming he actually knew though.

Because I couldn’t see the water, I couldn’t see any reflection either. That had seemed like an important aspect of this whole guardian thing. Humphrey had been able to sense that my little stone was the tithe. So that meant there had to be something special about it. But where was a reflection to offer it to? Maybe the book had something to do with it. I let my backpack slip to one arm so I could open it and pull out the book. The cover was in a language I didn’t speak, but I hoped that maybe there were pictures. 

The first page had plenty of writing. No pictures. But I did recognize a word here and there. It didn’t seem like it was entirely written in another language. Maybe it was code? Or a combination. I saw “tree” but nothing else helpful. I flipped through a few more pages. There was a drawing of a plant I didn’t know. Another drawing of a plant. Oh, there was a toad just like Humphrey! And a sketch of a wolf. Mice and horses and all sorts of animals lined the pages for at least a couple of chapters. The word “companion” was on one of the pages. Altogether, it was unhelpful for me at the moment. 

Would Ella have been able to figure it out? I missed her. In the time I’d had, I’d needed to finish the dress. So I hadn’t gone to seek her out. She’d similarly not come to seek me out either. Likely because of my mother’s scolding. But she might have been busy doing whatever it was her family always had her running around doing. But she could have been mad at me, too. 

“Bippity-bop?” I tried to say something that sounded magical. “I summon you!” The book, being practically useless, got set on the top of the parapet. I leaned forward a tad more, carefully grabbing hold of the solid stones. They’d held together for this many years unhindered; they’d be able to hold me, too. “Don’t you want my rock?” I’d not had the chance to ask Maggie or Auden why the troll wanted a token and not just money. Wouldn’t that have been a whole lot simpler? 

Nothing was happening, no matter how hard I willed it to. If there were special words, they would have told me. Maybe I had to go under the bridge to where the troll would have lived. I really didn’t want to have to try and climb down under the bridge. Especially not in the dark, when it was snowing, and no one except Auden knew where I was. 

As I peered down into the dark, the velvet bag slipped out from my bodice. It hung straight down from my neck and only its glittering cording was truly visible. I shifted to put it back but a sudden weight pulled it down. I barely managed to catch myself from tumbling forward. At first, I thought something had grabbed it, but there wasn’t anything beneath me. In a panic, I even waved my hand under the bag to try and see if I’d snagged onto something. I couldn’t feel anything and the bag pulled even harder. 

“Hey!” I yelled to nothing as the bag grew heavier and heavier. As though there was somehow a wagon inside of it. “Stop it!” Was I talking to the bag? If so, I hoped it would listen to me. This was high above the ground, or water. Regardless of whatever magic was in the bag, I wouldn’t be surviving this sort of fall. Self-preservation coursed through my lungs and I tried to pull back. It was the heaviest thing I’d ever felt in my life. I scratched at my neck to try and claw the cording off from around me. But they were too tight against my neck and I couldn’t get a grip at it without using both hands. If I used both hands, then I’d lose my grip. My hand one didn’t seem to help anyway and I continued to slide across the stone. 

“Pay the toll,” a thick voice snarled. And the bag pulled me over the edge of the bridge.