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ZULA
S tupid, stupid, stupid. Zula fumed to herself, hobbling on her sprained foot as she snuck through the trolls’ village. Why hadn’t she paid more attention? She’d felt like she was being watched, and she was—by the sheriff himself!
He was much younger than she expected, long-limbed and stupidly attractive with those bright emerald eyes and that thatch of red hair. Nothing about him even hinted at the fact that he was the kingdom’s appointed sheriff. He was innocent-looking and easygoing, with a relaxed attitude that didn’t indicate he hunted outlaws. But now she knew the truth: he was the reason her heist had gone awry. How long had he been watching her ?
Leaning against the solid wall of a hut to regain her balance, she pondered her next move. First, she had to find her ukulele, but obviously it hadn’t worked on all the trolls. The sheriff—Neo—would escape from the hut soon and she expected him to chase her down. Him, she could handle. It was the trolls she was worried about, as well as how to find the egg again.
Snores haunted her steps as she moved. The pain in her ankle made her eyes water and the scuffle with Neo hadn’t done her any favors. Still, she pushed forward, pausing when she heard voices. Ducking behind a hut, she peered around the corner, making out two shapes: trolls, talking.
“—has to be done. This is an invasion, a call to arms.”
“We don’t know that it is intentional. The sheriff came to warn us?—”
“Unless he’s in on it, part of the plot. To take our most precious relic, our symbol of protection, of luck. Our magic calls for action. We must be swift and firm, let anyone know that if they steal from us, wrath and punishment will be fast and unrelenting. ”
“Then we punish the thief as an example.”
“We punish both of them.”
“I’d like a word with the sheriff. Remember, we were the ones who didn’t listen to him, and our entire village lies under the spell of that demon.”
What would they do to Neo? No, it wasn’t her concern. She would not go back, nor could she help him. Taking a deep breath, Zula steeled herself to sneak past the trolls when she saw her burlap sack. They hadn’t put the egg back!
Even though she didn’t have the ukulele to spell them with, Zula crept toward the sack while the trolls argued. They didn’t notice when she hefted the sack and slipped back into the shadows, headed uphill to where her ukulele lay.
The egg was heavier this time around and Zula wondered if she’d broken a bone as she hobbled as fast as she dared, pain shooting up her leg. All was silent as she found the ukulele, the glow of magic leading her straight to it. Tying it to her back, she moved through the jungle, a hope and a prayer on her lips. If Scarred Joe and his gang had a nasty surprise for her, she didn’t know if she’d make it .
Fortunately, Zula reached the river without incident and almost wept tears of relief as she set down the sack. Her leg screamed for relief and she was ready to lie down and float downriver to the meeting spot. Moving through the thick grass by the bank, she pushed it aside to reveal the boat she’d hidden earlier. It was still there, but it had been smashed. The sides were broken in and there were two gaping holes in the bottom.
Her heart sank. Was this the work of the sheriff, or someone else?