yelled Will. “This is not something I ever expected.”
“That’s why I never liked the term, ‘expecting,’” mused Arrogan. “Because so many don’t expect it at all. Anyway, I warned you. Remember?”
“No. I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that,” said Will sourly.
“Hmm, I thought I did. Oh, well.” There was a brief silence, then the ring added, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I bet Lrmeg is the father of your love-child. He was still nursing a grudge. It would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it? You stabbed him in the dick last time, and this time he stabbed you with his dick.”
Will groaned. “I’m really starting to rethink my refusal to melt you down.”
“That’s what I’m going for,” said Arrogan gleefully. “Sweet, sweet, release.” Will thought he was finished, but then Arrogan piped up again. “Just like Lrmeg and his sweet release!”
“Ugh, stop! I’m going to throw up again. How do I fix this?”
“There’s only one way. You’ll need an abortion.”
“What’s that?”
“A highly dangerous medical procedure that no one really tries for anymore, since there’s no decent wizard-healers these days. In your case, though, it should be much simpler since this is more like a parasitic infection than a normal pregnancy. You’ll need to cut it out. After that, a fire should keep the little troll-let from continuing to grow.”
“There’s really a baby troll in my leg?”
“A teeny one,” said Arrogan, failing to hide a snicker. “The sooner you cut it out, the better. Otherwise you might lose the whole leg.”
Will examined the wound and summoned one of his knives. He’d rather take care of matters before seeing his mother, but when he pressed the point to the swollen flesh, the pain took his breath away. There was no way he could do it on his own. In the end, he never really had a choice. Climbing the ladder with his wounded thigh would be close to impossible. Drawing a deep lungful of air, he yelled, “Mom!”
He repeated the cry several times before he heard the stomp of feet on the floorboards above. The trap door opened, and a woman’s head surrounded by frizzy red hair looked over the rim. It was Sammy. “Will! Is that you?”
“Yes,” he said, trying to sound calm.
“Auntie is napping up front. You shouldn’t wake her,” said Sammy cheerfully. “Come up and we can talk in the bedroom.”
“I don’t think I can climb the ladder, Sammy,” said Will carefully. “I hurt my leg. You’re going to have to wake Mom.”
His cousin’s eyes went round at the news he was injured, and she vanished in a flash. “Aunt Eri, Aunt Eri! Will’s hurt! He can’t get up the ladder. Quick, come quick!” The words spilled out in one long, continuous stream that somehow maintained an incredibly loud volume throughout. Will covered his face with one hand. Sammy couldn’t ever do anything quietly. His poor mother was probably about to die of shock.
Within a minute his mother had stormed down the ladder and was examining him carefully. She gave Sammy a baleful glare. “You scared me half to death, girl!” she chided.
Sammy pointed at Will. “He’s the one who said he couldn’t climb the ladder.”
Will pointed back. “I never told you to yell bloody murder, though! I said I was hurt, not dying.”
Erisa shook her head, probing the swollen region carefully with her fingers. “It looks like a massive boil. How did it get so large in just a few hours?”
“What time is it?” asked Will.
“Midafternoon,” answered Erisa, then she wrinkled her nose. “You reek of ale. Have you been drinking?”
“I had to,” said Will. “I couldn’t offend them.” Midafternoon meant it still hadn’t been a full twenty-four hours since his friends had been injured. He wasn’t sure how long would be too long, but he was determined to get the regeneration potions to them before forty-eight hours had passed. “It isn’t a boil,” he told his mother. “It’s sort of a parasitic sting.”
“There’s something in there?”
He nodded, and as if to emphasize his point, the lump