Jim and the others had been told to stay at school, and so they did. Jim found himself pacing in the empty classroom, Stricklander’s office being off limits until it could be confirmed that there were no more booby traps.

“Understood,” Natasha said. “Our people just finished going over the former principal’s house. No sign of a body, but he vanished from sight right when Stricklander came back and hasn’t been seen since.”

“A changeling would have a lot of ways to get rid of a body,” Claire said, looking ill. “But… Principal Levit wouldn’t hurt a fly—why did…”

Natasha glanced at Clint and he nodded. Tony would give them hell for this, but the kids had been involved in a game where they really hadn’t realized a lot of the stakes. It was time to explain it.

“Stricklander probably killed him because it was most convenient, not because he hated him,” Clint said.

From their expressions they didn’t get it.

How could kids be this naive? The answer was immediate. Because they haven’t lived in this world, not like you. They were all middle class kids in a nice community where you never worried about Officer Friendly being on the local warlord’s take. They hadn’t had it rubbed in their faces, and she wished that she could spare them, but they had to understand, because Stricklander and the changelings would use their ignorance against them. “Stricklander doesn’t hate you three, probably doesn’t even hate you, Jim. He didn’t hate Principle Levit. People like him, don’t get that personal. He removed Levit because Levit was an obstacle.”

“And combine that with how old he is, and he’s had a lot of practice at getting used to killing people.” Clint said. “There’s been a lot of unsolved missing persons cases, especially in this area. Nobody ever really linked them because they went back decades, but changelings live for hundreds of years…”

“I can see killing someone because you hate them or because they are threatening you—I killed Bular because he wouldn’t stop…” Jim shook his head. “But like you’d squash a bug?”

“I hope you never do,” Natasha said. But you will, her glance to Clint said. The kids were involved, and even if the changelings went away tomorrow, they weren’t the type to close their eyes, and open eyes showed a side of the world few people enjoyed looking at…

She shook her head and then stopped as her earbud squawked.

“Out back. Thor’s incoming with the ring.”

Once outside, they waited until Thor grounded. It might be dangerous, but few people could see behind the school, Thor didn’t take long to hit the ground, and most importantly, the people of Arcadia seemed to have internalized ‘mind your own business’.

Natasha had a bad feeling that it was a survival trait in this town. Fury was probably going to have half the local intelligence staff canned over how they had missed that—after they verified there were no changelings in the mix. They had cleared the carrier, but SHIELD was an awfully big organization.

“The ring,” he said. For once, Thor didn’t sound full of bluff cheer. The ring was in a box and he looked at Jim. “You offered to return the ring to Angor Rot?”

“I did… It was sort of a forced agreement.”

“We should anyway, even if we kill the troll,” Thor said. He looked at the others. “To lose his soul—this is an abomination, and the sorceress who did this dabbled with evil that hopefully none of you will ever see. I am amazed that Angor Rot is still sane—at all. To exist for all these years with that gnawing hole…” The Asgardian shook his head. “Where shall we meet him?”

“He said I could call him—we should do it in the sewers. It’s still day and that way there won’t be any civilians to worry about.”

“Good point,” Clint said.

“You are a brave warrior—all of you are but when your mother compelled the changeling to submit and give us the ring, I knew that I should not have been surprised that Eitri’s handiwork choose you.”

“Wait—Mom?” Jim said.

“The whole tale can wait until we return,” Thor said. “With some ale to speed the telling.”

“Ale for some of us,” Clint said, giving Thor a pointed look. “Especially since you just reminded us that we shouldn’t underestimate Dr. Lake.”

“We’d better go,” Jim said. “I don’t know how long it will take Angor to find us—or if he’s watching us already.”

And with that cheery thought, the group headed for the sewers.

Jim was nervous. The sewer was wide but dark and Jim wondered if Angor was watching them already. The last time they’d fought… Angor had beaten him. He could have taken his head off in the gym, while Jim was lost in a nightmare.

And the only reason he hadn’t was that Jim could get him something he needed. His gem.

His soul. They’d known about it, but the way Thor had talked—the revulsion in his voice, like they were holding something…

“Thor,” Jim said.

“Yes?”

“You said it was an abomination… Would it explain why Angor…”

“Is Angor?” Toby asked.

Thor paused. “Imagine you see your mother. But you feel nothing. You know you should. But you do not, you cannot. Flowers, the love of your life, the little hobbies you once treasured. All gone. You remember what they should feel like. You burn to taste that pleasure, even for a moment, but you cannot.” Thor paused. “Even the Frost Giants do not dabble with such dark sorceries.”

Jim closed his eyes. “I understand.”

“Trollhunter…” The growl sounded down the corridor. Black Widow and Hawkeye pulled out their weapons. Thor held his hammer at the ready.

“Angor Rot.” Jim stood steady. He held the box with the ring in it. If Thor wouldn’t touch it, he wasn’t about to.

“You have allies, Trollhunter,” Angor glanced over at Black Widow and Hawkeye, then at Thor. “An Asgardian. I have not seen your like since long before I was entombed.”

“I am Thor,” Thor said. “Jim told us of your battles, and how you nearly defeated him when his mind was not his own. If you wish a more challenging fight…” He hefted his hammer.

Angor’s chuckle was like an avalanche. “Had I meant to kill him, I would have. But we struck an arrangement.”

“The ring for breaking the binding spell,” Jim said. “I’ll give you the ring, but after that, I want you to listen to me.”

Angor tilted his head.

“Jim…” Claire whispered. “What are you thinking?”

Jim said nothing, handing the box to Angor. The troll stared at it.

“So long…” Then he held it up, chanting in a strange tongue that didn’t sound like Trollish. The humans and Asgardian backed up slightly as the gem started gleaming, the metal of the ring turning red, melting through the box and onto Angor’s hand. He didn’t seem to notice. Then the gem shattered, and a glowing golden orb rose up, before it swirled around his head and flowed into his body.

Jim was about to open his mouth when an explosion of light dazzled his eyes. Orbs, dozen of blueish orbs flew from Rot’s body.

Free…

Thank you, Trollhunter…

Farewell…

Those words and more were whispered as the orbs flew away.

The lost trollhunters… Jim thought. The joy, the relief in their voices was like nothing he’d ever heard before. He raised one hand to his cheek, felt moisture. Claire and Toby were in a similar state, and to his surprise, so were Hawkeye and Black Widow.

Thor had smiled and raised his hammer in salute and farewell.

Angor took a deep breath, then turned to look at Jim, seeming to be more alive than Jim had ever seen him before.

“Speak, Trollhunter.”

Jim took a breath. He hadn’t cleared this with the Avengers. He hadn’t even thought of it before Thor had spoken to him. But now… “Blinky told me your story, how you sought to protect your people, how you fought Gunmar, before you were cursed. You aren’t cursed anymore.”

“No.”

“Stricklander is in custody of SHIELD and he won’t be getting out. But after we rescue Enrique and the others…” Jim took a deep breath. “I really don’t think our parents are gonna be okay with us keeping fighting for the rest of high school.” He felt Claire and Toby twitch in surprise next to him. And do I really want to? He liked Blinky, liked Trollmarket, but the fighting? Not so much. And once Gunmar’s gone, I bet a bunch of them will remember that in Troll years, we’re barely past needing diapers. Jim wanted a normal life with his friends, at least until he graduated. “They’ll need someone else to protect them, someone who is old enough to have their respect.”

Angor’s chuckle was deep. “I am a nightmare, a tale told to troll whelps. What makes you think I would be accepted?”

“I’m a 16-year-old human. I was accepted.”

Angor paused, becoming so still that for a moment Jim wondered if he hadn’t noticed the sun striking him.

“You are wise, Trollhunter—and well named. This will not be the end of your story, but…” Angor tilted his head. “I will give your words consideration. But regardless, I will teach your consort how to better wield the staff she claimed and the magic that comes with it. It is dangerous for the untrained.”

Next to Jim, Claire was blushing at the word ‘consort’.

So was Jim.

“Can we trust him?” Black Widow said.

“The Trollhunter comes with the Odinson. Do you think I am so eager to throw my life away moments after regaining it?” Angor said. “But first, I will undo the binding. I would not… Delay your people’s ability to discuss matters with the changeling.”

From his smile, Jim came to a conclusion: Even with his soul, Angor Rot was a scary, scary, troll.

“Quickly, quickly!” Otto ordered. “Gather what we can, and destroy the rest!”

“Grand Commandant, why?”

“The Pale Lady has warned us,” Otto said, pointing to the phonograph. It had started up the night before and hadn’t stopped and he’d finally managed to decipher her message. “Stricklander had betrayed us and powers greater than the Trollhunter are coming for us.”

“But our base—where shall we go?”

“You have your dispersal orders, yes?”

“Yes!”

“Then go!”

Otto turned and ignored the panic. The important materials had already been removed, and the computers destroyed. It was time for him to leave, to meet their ally.

Or rather the fellow servant of Gunmar.

Moments later, he was out of the base, through one of the hidden access ways to the sewers, sewers far more complex and large than Arcadia needed. Another few turns and he was at another hidden door, and standing in front of it, three looming figures, glowing tattoos marking their bodies.

“My Lady,” Otto said.

“Don’t waste my time impure,” Ursurna said. “Why did you call me?”

“The humans have captured Stricklander and we have information that they have summoned aid. I have ordered the dispersal of the our forces.”

“And what do you expect me to do?”

“Aid us, in the service of our mutual overlord,” Otto said. “The world is changing. You saw the invasion of the fleshbag city. The return of the Asgardians. We must be prepared to strike fast, and you…”

“What?”

“The Trollhunter, nor his friends, are anywhere to be seen. I think they have betrayed his oath, betrayed trollkind to the human warriors—they and their troll allies.

“And you think that would benefit us how?”

Otto smiled. “Why, my queen! If the Trollhunter was exiled from Trollmarket, or sentenced to death would it not show that he had failed? He has already angered Gatto, surely you could find others among the council that would support you, and in such an environment, things that were never possible to say before might be said again, for without the Trollhunter, with humanity pressing again…”

“Only Gunmar could protect us.” Usurna nodded. “I will think of this, impure. But you are overly arrogant”—quick as a flash, one of her guards pinned Otto to the floor—”so remember your place.”

“Of course, my queen,” Otto said, coughing as he was allowed to stand up. “The Janus Order is well aware of its place in the world…”

Usurna waited until the impure had left. Impure, always plotting. Always planning, always believing that they were something more than tools.

Tools, which it seemed, had lost their utility.

But even tools sometimes had the right idea. She and her guards returned to Trollmarket, and Usurna listened to the undertone of fear. The Trollhunter was gone.

And when you find out he has betrayed you? She let no hint of her satisfaction touch her face. The council would attempt to imprison or kill the fleshbag and the reaction of the humans would prove Gunmar right…

But first, it was time to contact him. Fetches were rare, treasures beyond price. But she was a queen and there was little beyond her reach.

“I will be in my quarters,” she told the guard. “Let none disturb me.”

I have much to share with our Underlord…