Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hilda and the Secret of Black Rock

“Tell me again what you’re doing?”

“It’s a type of magic Tildy’s teaching me,” Frida explained quietly, her eyes closed in concentration, “a way of forming a strong enough understanding with a living thing, that one might form a kind of mental connection.”

She was knelt down over one of the many rockpools that dotted Trolberg’s beach, one sleeve rolled up past her elbow, hand reaching below the water. Beside her she’d propped a spell book up on a rock, but her focus was firmly on what she was doing. Hilda watched with uncertain interest; she had been hoping magic practice would be fun, but so far it seemed anything but.

“With a sea anemone?” she asked dubiously, watching as Frida’s hand drifted towards a small cluster of the creatures. The young witch didn’t reply, taking a deep breath and gently reaching down. The sea anemones recoiled the moment her fingers brushed them, their tentacles disappearing into their bodies.

Frida sighed in frustration, her gaze turning up to meet Hilda’s. “I don’t know if it’s working,” she admitted. The other girl looked down at the cowering anemones, an idea bouncing to the front of her mind; surely this would be easier with an animal Frida already had a connection with?

“Oh, you should try it on Twig!” she suggested, gesturing to the deerfox. He let out a confused murmur.

“Even if Twig was cool with that, I’m sure I couldn’t.” Frida looked down, her face falling. She rolled her sleeve down. “Witches use it to form an intimate bond with their familiars.”

There was doubt in her tone, fear that she would never be able to do the spell. Hilda couldn’t help feeling a pang inside at that; she hated seeing Frida upset, hated seeing what insecurity did to her. She just wished Frida could see what she saw: an amazing witch-in-training, already capable of so much.

“It’s a good thing your familiar can talk, then,” she reassured, pressing her hands to her chest. She wanted to say more, but another voice split the air before she could.

“Guys?” Both girls’ gazes snapped over; David was standing just along the beach, still nervous around magic. “There’s something going on over there.” He raised one arm as Twig bounded over, pointing down the beach.

Hilda followed his arm as she and Frida hurried to join him. He was right; just ahead was a jetty, sticking out over the beach and into the water. They headed towards it, listening as the angry shouts grew louder.

Fisherfolk crowded the planks, their voices raised in a cacophony that echoed across the sand. At the end of the pier a catamaran was moored, its angular bridge bristling with radar scanners and its sleek sides emblazoned with the shield of the Safety Patrol. And before it, facing the wrath of the crowd, were the unmistakeable shapes of Edmund Ahlberg and Gerda Gustav; Hilda frowned at the sight.

One of the harbourfolk stepped forwards, a woman wearing dark green waterproof overalls over a striped shirt. A dark beanie topped a head of white hair, pulled back into a round bun. Her face was creased with frustration.

“Enough with all this talk of trolls!” she barked. The rest of the sailors quieted, nodding in agreement. “The only threat to our ships around here is Black Rock.”

Hilda paused, coming to a stop a few metres from the jetty. She felt interest rising inside; she had never heard of ‘black rock’ before. Was this a new creature, one she had yet to discover?

“Captain Pike is right!” a short fisherman with a long beard agreed. “That rock’s been pulling down ships willy-nilly. We’ve all seen it; Avery, Mariner, Dalton, even Nora nearly lost her keel to it last night!”

He held up a roll of paper, letting it unravel to reveal a warning poster. ‘BEWARE’ it declared in all capitals, above a picture of a dark, rocky shape labelled as Black Rock. Below was a list of vessels sunk, dark outlines of ships printed with names and the dates they’d been lost.

“I see,” Erik replied, eyes narrowing at the paper. “Tell me, what exactly is this ‘black rock’?”

“It’s an islet,” the short fisherman replied. “It’s big as a mountain an’ sharp as a swordfish! Right out there in our harbour.”

“And it moves,” Captain Pike added. “It never stays in one place; it just appears out of the fog, right in your path. Recently it’s been even more active than usual, rising out of the water when we least expect it; it’s like it’s trying to attack us.”

Hilda’s interest was piqued; a living island, in Trolberg Harbour? Who knew what kind of creature it really was?

“You don’t know that!” a new voice split the air. All eyes turned as the crowd shifted; out of the front row squeezed the shape of a girl about Hilda’s age, her face set in a frown.

A yellow mackintosh and matching trousers covered her small frame. Her hair, hanging down messily to her neck, was white, the same shade as Captain Pike’s; looking at them, at the shape of their features, Hilda was sure they were related.

“You can’t be sure Black Rock is attacking you,” the little Pike girl protested, “if nobody’s ever seen it up close. Maybe it just doesn’t notice we’re there.” She turned back to her mother, cheeks puffing out. “If you’d just let me go out to sea with you, maybe I could-”

“Not now, Erin,” Captain Pike cut her off, frustration rising again in her tone. “You know it’s far too dangerous out at sea. That rock is a menace.” Erin pouted, and looking on Hilda couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy; she knew all too well how it felt to be dismissed by adults, how her own mother seemed more and more to be trying to restrict her for the same misguided reasons.

“Your mother is right, child,” Erik agreed, something dark and dangerous in his eyes.

He stepped back, his shoulders rising and his chest puffing out. “Good sailors of Trolberg,” he began again, “I, Erik Ahlberg of Trolberg Safety Patrol, will lead a charge on Black Rock!” He raised one fist into the air, pride swelling. “We shall destroy the dreaded beast, take it apart piece by piece if we have to, and we shall make this harbour safe again!”

The harbourfolk cheered in agreement. Erin frowned helplessly and so did Hilda; she didn’t need to look back to know David and Frida also felt the same. But what could they do, if Erik and the sailors were so clearly unwilling to listen?

“This mission requires the utmost courage,” Erik added proudly.

“And boats,” Gerda noted. Her gaze was buried in her notepad; she was no doubt already planning the logistics of her superior officer’s latest crusade.

“Boatloads of courage, you mean!” he joked, only to frown when she didn’t return his smile. Her gaze snapped up, well-buried irritation in her eyes.

“No, I mean actual boats, sir,” she said quickly, “and mining equipment, if we need to dismantle this rock.” He nodded in agreement, looking back up at the assembled fisherfolk.

“Well then, good people,” he declared, “we’ll need your help. Rest assured; together, we shall prevail over the terror of Black Rock!”

Cheers rang out across the dock, fervour building at his words. Hilda could only watch as Erin looked helplessly up at her mother, only for the woman to fix her with a disappointed frown. After a moment she looked up, hands coming to rest on her hips.

“Let’s get to work then!” she declared. The other sailors raised their fists in agreement, and as her daughter stood there, she led them off the pier and to their vessels. Gerda and Erik followed, the latter shooting Erin a sly grin as he passed.

“Deputy Gerda, get me those boats!”

Hilda felt her sympathy for the other girl grow. She had half a mind to run up there and confront Erik herself, but she could already see that that was a futile endeavour. So she waited for a moment, until the man and his crew had dispersed, before she hurried up the steps onto the jetty. Frida and David followed, Twig bounding along beside them.

Erin had taken a seat on a crate, down at far end near the Safety Patrol boat; there was a dejected look on her face. She looked up as she heard the others approach, apprehension rising in her gaze.

“Um, hi?” she asked awkwardly. Something twisted in Hilda’s stomach; introducing herself to new people had never been her strong point, and she was suddenly terrified of saying the wrong thing. But she forced it all down, burying her worries.

“Hi,” she replied quickly. “I’m Hilda; this is David, Frida, and Twig.” She smiled, hands clasping in front of her stomach. “We saw you stand up to Erik back there.”

“That was pretty cool,” Frida added, stepping up beside her. Erin relaxed a little, her expression softening.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I’m Erin.” She let out a sigh. “I guess you’re not fans of the Safety Patrol, then?”

“Nope,” Hilda replied, feeling her uncertainty fade as irritation replaced it, “all they do is cause problems. Ahlberg doesn’t want to keep people safe, he just wants glory for himself, and everyone else is too scared of monsters to see that most of them aren’t doing any harm.”

Erin’s face lit up at her words. “You get it,” she said with sudden conviction. “Everyone’s convinced Black Rock’s somehow evil, or dangerous, but I’m sure it’s not.” She sighed, looking down again at the planks underfoot. “I’ve always wanted to go out and see it, find out what it really is, but my mum won’t let me. She just wants me to stay here on the dockside all day because here it’s ‘safe’.”

Hilda felt another pang of sympathy at that. She took a step forwards, safe in the knowledge that Erin was a kindred spirit.

“I know how that feels,” she admitted; in her peripheral, she was aware of concerned glances from her friends. But she ignored them, forcing all her feelings back down. “Why don’t you come with us?” she offered, giving Erin a warm smile. “We’ll all go out together, find out the secret of Black Rock, and find a way to save it from Ahlberg and his fleet.”

“You mean it?” Erin’s eyes went wide with fresh excitement. Hilda glanced back; David seemed a little hesitant, but there was agreement in Frida’s gaze.

“Of course,” the young witch said firmly. “We’d love to have you along.” She looked over to her other friend; he swallowed.

“I’m not sure going after a giant rock that sinks ships is a good idea,” he said gingerly. “Besides; how are we meant to get out there?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine with all of us there,” Hilda quickly reassured; the last thing she wanted was him feeling like he couldn’t come along. She had been trying to keep a better eye on his fears since the incident with the vikings.

“You don’t know where we could get a boat, do you?” Frida asked suddenly, meeting Erin’s gaze. The white-haired girl shook her head.

“Mum has a boat,” she explained, “the Lady Idra, but she’d never let us use it.”

Hilda frowned; there had to be another way for them to get out to sea. For a moment she thought, ideas and past memories tumbling through her head, before she suddenly felt an idea click into place. In a moment she knew exactly who to ask.

“I can’t get us a boat,” she broke the silence, fresh conviction in her voice, “but I know where we can get something better; come on!”

Chapter Text

Hilda skidded to a halt outside her own front door, taking a moment to catch her breath. Adrenaline still coursed through her, and her heart was pounding from the dash across town. But beneath all of that, a horrible feeling had settled in her gut, because she’d had an equally horrible realisation on her way over.

She had been meant to be having a picnic with her mum today, the one they’d postponed after the incident with the mechanical bellkeepers. It would have been hard enough to postpone it again under normal circumstances; disappointing Johanna always made Hilda’s insides turn. But she knew this time would be even harder, because now she had to keep her adventures secret altogether.

She wasn’t sure what had changed, when she had somehow lost her mum’s support, but Hilda knew that now her mum wouldn’t let her run off into the bay, picnic or not. A few months ago Johanna would have understood, would have let her go with a sigh and a promise made to make up for it, but that time had long passed. Which meant Hilda absolutely couldn’t tell the truth.

She took one final deep breath, trying to ignore all the horrible feelings that settled in response to her thoughts. She knew she was being a bad daughter; she knew this wasn’t right; but what choice did she have?

“We have to get Alfur and get out of here,” she said quickly, looking up. “Frida, David; back me up.”

“Who’s Alfur?” Erin asked. That gave Hilda pause; she hadn’t even realised that her new friend wouldn’t be able to see the elf. That was just another bridge to cross, she supposed.

“He’s a friend,” she explained quickly. “You won’t be able to see him straight away, but we’ll fix that once we grab him.”

Erin nodded, a little reluctant, and so Hilda turned away. She threw the door to the apartment building open, hurrying inside; the others followed. Together the group stormed up the stairs, barging through the door to the flat and into Hilda’s living room.

“There you are,” Johanna’s voice split the air; Hilda skidded to a stop, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on-end. Her mother had a smile on her face, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes as she looked over the assembled children. “I was just getting ready for our picnic.”

“Beautiful day for it,” Alfur added; he was perched on top of a sandwich box, waiting by the sink. In her peripheral Hilda could see Erin looking around for the source of the extra voice, but she didn’t dare look back.

“Who’s your new friend?” Johanna raised an eyebrow as her gaze settled on the white-haired girl, snapping her out of her confused search.

“This is Erin.” Hilda felt her stomach lurch and her chest tighten, knowing what was coming next. “She’s going to be helping us with something. I’m really sorry, mum, but we can’t have our picnic today.”

Johanna’s expression hardened; Hilda looked down, unable to bear her gaze. “Why not?” she asked, suspicion rising in her voice. Hilda swallowed, scrambling to think of an excuse.

“We have a, um, Sparrow Scout activity,” she settled on, forcing herself to step up to the table. She tried to keep her face neutral, praying that her uncertainty wasn’t showing through.

“What activity?” Johanna challenged, folding her arms and straightening her back. She clearly wasn’t buying it, but Hilda didn’t know what to say.

“Um-”

“Beach cleanup,” Frida said suddenly, not a hint of deception in her voice. “That’s one of the reasons we’ve got Erin to help us; she lives down by the harbour, so she knows all the best spots for collecting litter.” Hilda forced a smile at that.

“Yup!” David added with a horribly forced smile of his own. “We’ve got to get our beach-cleaning badges!”

For a moment, Johanna’s expression didn’t change. Hilda’s insides squirmed so much she felt like they were trying to wriggle out of her, a sort of horrible pressure setting in inside her rib cage. But then her mother rolled her eyes, breaking the horrible silence once more.

“Well,” she said frustratedly, “if it’s an official activity, you can go. But you have to properly introduce your new friend to me at some point.” In an instant Hilda felt the grip on her chest loosen, relief surging through her. She hurried forwards, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs; it was an empty gesture, one she knew did nothing to fix the wound she had just opened, but she wanted to at least do something to apologise.

“Thanks mum,” she said quickly. “I will.”

“And Alfur,” Frida announced slightly too loudly, stepping up to the counter, “we’ll definitely take you up on your offer of help.” She held out a hand and he jumped onto it, letting her gently deposit him on her shoulder. “We’ll also need you to give Erin the proper paperwork.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I make a point of always carrying a set of the proper forms. You never know when you’ll need it!”

Hilda pulled away from her mother, hurrying back over to the door. Frida followed, and as she did the blue-haired girl heard Alfur add, “but wait, wha… uh, when did I offer to help?”

“No time to waste!” she said quickly, hoping her mum hadn’t heard. And before he could argue she rushed on towards the door. “Bye, mum!” Erin and David stepped back into the hallway to let her out, Twig darting out between them: Erin gave Johanna a brief nervous wave before Frida shut the door behind them.

The group didn’t stop until they were back out in the street; Hilda breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the door to the apartment block. They were safe, at least for now. Still, some of the horrible feeling in her gut lingered at the thought she had needed to lie. She supposed she would just have to find some way to make up for it later.

“So,” Erin’s voice suddenly broke the silence that had fallen; she was looking at Frida with interest, “when do I get to see Alfur?”

“As soon as you complete the proper paperwork!” the elf announced; she jumped, before leaning in and peering closely at Frida’s shoulder, following the sound of his voice.

“Wait, are you invisible?” she breathed, interest sparkling in her eyes.

“I’m afraid so,” he explained. “Us elves are very picky about who gets to see us. But, once you’ve signed the paperwork, I’ll become just as visible as everyone else.” He rummaged in his satchel a moment, pulling out a small stack of familiar papers, all neat and tidy.

“A real elf,” Erin noted, gently lowering her hand for him to put the papers down on; she could see those, at least. She eyed them closely, holding them up to eye level. “Do you have a pencil?”

“Of course!” he noted proudly, producing one and holding it up. “Although, it is a bit small.”

“That’s okay.” She gently took the thing from him, pinching it between two fingers, and as the others watched on she leaned back against the apartment building’s outer wall and started working through the papers. As she did, Alfur turned to Hilda, his expression turning to a frown.

“What are we really doing?” he challenged. Hilda smiled, burying her uncertainties.

“We need you to summon us a water spirit,” she explained quickly. “There’s a creature out in Trolberg Harbour called Black Rock; Erik Ahlberg’s building a fleet to try and attack it, and Erin’s mum is helping him.”

“So,” Frida cut in, a grin on her face and conspiracy in her eyes, “we’re going to go out to sea, find Black Rock, and work out what it is and how we can help it escape the Safety Patrol.”

Alfur’s frown deepened, not-hands coming to rest on his hips. It was blatantly clear he wasn’t happy with being shanghaied into this plan. But before he could say anything else Erin’s voice cut back into the conversation.

“Done!” she announced, pushing off the wall. Her eyes went wide as she looked again for Alfur; in a moment her gaze settled on him, and she broke into a smile. “You’re really small.” She offered him the completed papers and he took them, stuffing them back into his satchel.

“I’ll just file those away for later,” he said quietly, before turning back to the blue-haired girl, his expression turning serious once again. “Hilda, please listen to me; all this lying is going to catch up to you!” he warned. She just shrugged; she didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

“What else could she do?” Hilda blinked; it was Erin who’d spoken, her fists suddenly clenched. She looked down after a moment, taking a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just I know how it feels, having a mum you can’t talk to. It’s not easy having to lie.” Frida nodded in understanding; she didn’t need to say anything for Hilda and Erin to know she was in the same boat.

Alfur let out a quiet breath, but didn’t say anything else. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence reigned, before David broke it.

“We should probably get going, right?” he asked gingerly. Hilda nodded.

“You’re right,” she said firmly, burying her feelings all over again. She turned back for the harbour. “We’ve already lost too much time; come on.”

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long to find a suitable conch shell. Hilda watched eagerly as Alfur carried it down to the waterline, taking up position on a small stone. She knew what was coming, but she also knew David and Erin didn’t, and she couldn’t wait to see what the new girl would make of their mode of transport.

Alfur blew into the shell; the sound resounded out down the beach, echoing over the sea. Silence followed, the noise fading as he ran out of breath, until finally all the kids could hear was the lapping of the waves at their feet.

“Wait for it,” Frida said with a knowing smile.

The sea in front of them exploded upwards. David let out a strangled scream and jumped back; Erin gasped in surprise, eyes going wide. A column of water rose before them, sea spray cascading down as it formed into a familiar rounded shape. Two large white eyes opened on its surface, peering down at the assembled children.

“Is that a water spirit?” Erin breathed; Hilda felt a warm feeling settle somewhere inside at the bright smile on her face.

“It sure is!” Alfur nodded. He looked up, meeting the creature’s gaze. “Five and a deerfox for, um, for Black Rock, please?”

The water spirit regarded him for a moment, glowing eyes narrowing. Hilda was suddenly sure it was going to refuse them. But then it let out a strange sound, a sort of deep, muffled roar, and with a flourish and a whoosh of spray a set of stairs formed out of the water around it, spiralling up to the top of its head.

Erin didn’t even hesitate. Before anyone could say anything she was running, her boots splashing on the steps as she scrambled off the sand and up the creature’s side. Hilda watched as she disappeared behind its watery form, only to pop out on top of its head, grinning from ear to ear.

Hilda followed, scooping up Alfur and plopping him comfortably behind her ear as she passed. Frida came too, but David and Twig hesitated at the bottom of the staircase.

“We’re going to ride that thing?” he asked gingerly; the deerfox whimpered in agreement.

“Yup,” Hilda said quickly, shooting him a reassuring smile.

“Come on up!” Erin called from above. She knelt down on the watery surface, keeping her gaze on him as the others scrambled up behind her. “Don’t worry, it’s great!”

David didn’t get a chance to protest; with a noise that sounded almost like a sigh the water spirit shifted. There was another rush of water and he and Twig were swept off the beach, disappearing inside the spirit’s body. Hilda felt a flash of concern, only for it to vanish as the pair popped out on top of the spirit beside her, soggy but unharmed.

Twig let out a disgruntled murmur and shook himself dry, showering all the others. David frowned but the girls just laughed, raising their hands in a half-hearted attempt to shield themselves from the splattering water.

Beneath them all the spirit shifted again, letting out a watery humming sound as it pulled back from the beach. And then they were away, skimming out over the calm ocean into the harbour. Erin stepped up to the front of the creature, arms outstretched, hair and mackintosh ruffled by the cold sea breeze.

“This is amazing!” she declared, turning back to look over her new friends. Hilda felt warmth swelling again at the look of pure excitement in her eyes; Erin was definitely a kindred spirit. “I mean,” the white-haired girl continued, “Mum always told me water spirits were dangerous, that they lure sailors off ships with their singing. I just thought they were misunderstood; I had no idea you could ride one!”

“They do make a pretty cool means of transport,” Hilda replied happily. Under her knees the water rippled, the spirit cooing in agreement. Erin nodded back, but as she did something seemed to come over her; her smile faded, something unreadable rising in her eyes.

“Is this normal for you?” she asked quietly. Hilda blinked.

“What do you mean?” Frida and David shifted at her words, moving across the water spirit’s head to join her.

“Going on adventures, I mean,” Erin explained, something uncomfortable creeping into her voice, “riding spirits, chasing down mysterious creatures; do you do this stuff a lot?”

“All the time,” David spoke up, something that might just have been disapproval in his tone. Frida nodded in agreement.

“We go on a lot of adventures,” she added.

“Like yesterday, we had to sneak into a bell tower to stop Ahlberg’s mechanical bellkeepers,” Hilda explained, excitement brimming; she finally had someone else she could share these stories with, and it felt amazing.

“That was you?” Erin asked. “Mum was sure the bells just malfunctioned.”

“We might have caused that malfunction,” Hilda replied, her smile turning conspiratorial, “with some help from a friend.” Erin smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Something in her gaze sent a spike of concern through Hilda’s gut.

Frida noticed it too; she spoke up before her friend could, shifting forwards to meet Erin’s gaze.

“Erin, is everything okay?” There was clear worry in her voice. Erin sighed, looking down. Her whole body seemed to go tense.

“Yes, it’s just…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath. “After today, once we’ve found Black Rock, can I keep hanging out with you guys?” Something inside Hilda twinged at that, at how nervous her new friend suddenly sounded; she knew that fear of rejection in her bones.

Erin went on before she could say anything. “It’s always so boring down at the harbour, with just me and Archie.”

“Who’s Archie?” Frida asked the question on everyone’s minds. Erin smiled sadly.

“Our dog,” she explained. “Mum lets him stay with me sometimes when she goes out to sea, to keep me company; I do love him, but I can’t talk to him, y’know?” She sighed. “I know I’ve only just met you guys but I’m really enjoying today; it’s nice, having other people to spend time with, and I’d love to go on more adventures.”

“And we’d love to have you join us on them,” Hilda replied firmly, conviction rising in her voice.

Erin looked up, relief overtaking the worries in her eyes and a small smile settling on her face. As their gazes met, the blue-haired girl felt something else stirring inside; an odd, fluttering feeling in her chest. She was dimly sure she had felt it around Frida before, but she couldn’t put a word on the sensation.

“You’re practically one of us already,” Frida’s voice, warm and welcoming, pulled her back out of her thoughts. David nodded in agreement.

“Yep!” he added.

Before any of them could say anything else Erin surged forwards, over the water spirit’s head. She threw her arms wide, crashing into her new friends and pulling all three of them into a hug. Frida and David returned it, their other arms wrapping around Hilda, and for a moment all four were tangled up together, a wave of warmth washing over them.

“Thanks,” Erin said, quiet but earnest. She pulled back, sitting back on the watery surface, and the others fell around her. Twig trotted over, bumping his head into Erin’s side and rubbing up against her coat. She giggled at the touch, reaching down to scratch behind his ears.

“Oh!” Frida added suddenly, her eyes going wide. “You should persuade your mum to let you join the Sparrow Scouts!”

“The Sparrow Scouts?” Erin raised an eyebrow at that. “You mean those kids who come around in yellow sweaters and take donations?”

Hilda couldn’t help laughing at that. “We do more than that,” she explained quickly; Erin’s face flushed a little with embarrassment. “The Sparrow Scout oath says to be a friend to all people, animals, and spirits,” the blue-haired girl continued, “plus, it’s a great way to find adventure.”

“We only met because we’re all Sparrows,” David added fondly. “Join our flock, and you won’t ever be able to get rid of us.” Erin giggled again at that, and Hilda felt that warmth inside bloom all over again as confidence rose in the other girl’s eyes.

“I’ll talk to my mum,” she promised.

For a moment, a comfortable silence settled. The group rode on, over the waves, Trolberg dwindling further and further behind them. Suddenly Twig let out a low growl, pulling away from Erin and turning to stare out to sea; the kids all followed his gaze, and Hilda felt a flood of excitement surge in her veins at what she saw.

Looming ahead was what could only have been Black Rock, a dark shape that jutted out above the water, just too small and just too far out to sea to be seen clearly from the beach. Even in the midday sun it looked imposing, a mass of jagged peaks of dark stone, stabbing at the sky above. Around it the calm sea turned to white foam, waves lapping quietly at its sheer sides. It didn’t seem to be moving.

The spirit slowed as it approached; Hilda could practically feel hesitation ripple through the water under her foot. Slowly they came to a stop, a few metres short of their destination; the girl watched as the spirit’s white eyes slowly looked up, scanning the surface of the rock. After a moment they narrowed in frustration.

“Uhh, why are we stopping?” Erin asked. Hilda shrugged.

“I think we have a problem,” a small voice sounded from behind her ear. She felt Alfur shift uncomfortably, peering up at the rock. “I’m not sure we can actually get onto it.”

“Alfur’s right,” Frida added, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. “Look: there’s nowhere to stand. It’s all just peaks and cliffsides.”

As much as Hilda hated to admit it, Frida was right; the whole thing was basically a miniature mountain, with sharp smaller peaks jutting out from the sheer sides of the main one. She was sure she could climb it, with a bit of effort, but she doubted she could figure out the mysterious nature of the place while clinging to the side of it.

“We need to go underwater.” Erin’s voice rose over the lapping of the sea. David balked, eyes going wide, and behind her ear Hilda felt Alfur shift. “I mean it,” the white-haired girl went on. “Whatever Black Rock really is, this is just the top of it; if we want to figure it out, we’ll have to get a look below the waterline.”

“You can’t be serious,” David protested, but Frida spoke up in reply.

“Erin’s right,” she said firmly, sudden determination in her eyes. She looked down at the spirit under her feet, taking a deep breath. “Can you please take us underwater? We need to get a closer look at the rock.”

The spirit’s white eyes rolled up its surface, and for a moment Hilda was sure they had pushed its goodwill too far. Alfur coughed loudly, his grip on her ear tightening.

“I’m not sure this is a good ideaaaa!” His words turned to a scream as the floor went out from under them all. For a moment Hilda fell, her stomach bouncing in her ribcage. She heard Twig yelp in alarm and David shriek in surprise. Air and water rushed around them.

She landed with a splash, the semi-solid water of the spirit’s body breaking her fall. A glance around showed the others had similarly landed, shaken and wetter than ever but still unharmed. Over them water arched, cascading down around them; with a start, she realised they were now inside the spirit, trapped in an air bubble surrounded by its watery body.

“I guess that works,” she said quickly, scrambling to her feet and dusting herself down. Erin was already up, eyes wide, and after a moment Frida and David joined her.

“I still don’t like this,” the boy said quietly. But it was too late to protest; the spirit let out a deep, rumbling sound, like the distant roar of a waterfall, and with everyone safely inside it slipped below the waves.

Chapter Text

It was dark beneath the surface, the sun’s light filtered to a dim haze by the seawater around the kids’ transport. But Hilda’s eyes quickly adjusted, and through the side of the water spirit she could make out the sheer side of Black Rock looming beside them.

It stretched down into the darkness, encrusted with clusters of barnacles and families of starfish. Multicoloured fish were playing hide and seek through cracks and caverns in the surface; there was even a trio of young salt lions watching them curiously as they passed. But Hilda could see no sign of life from the rock itself.

“Look!” Erin suddenly called. Hilda looked over; the other girl was peering out of the opposite side of the water spirit, her eyes wide.

What she had seen was a massive spike of rock, a lonely stalactite the size of a tree trunk that had somehow grown sideways out of the sheer face of Black Rock. There was something familiar about the shape of it, Hilda thought, even as the water spirit floated over and pulled back, shifting to a halt at the end of the massive protrusion. And suddenly, it clicked.

“Is that…?” she breathed, suddenly worried about her own conclusions. She shared a glance with Frida; the other girl didn’t need to speak for Hilda to know she had reached the same realisation. Erin was still wide-eyed, unaware, but David caught his friends’ concern.

“What?” he asked suddenly.

“I think Black Rock is-”

Hilda was cut off by a deep and terrifying rumble, one that echoed around her and shook her bones. She looked up again at the rock’s surface, eyes going wide at the sight. Because as she watched cracks widened to reveal glowing white eyes, and a chasm opened into a mouth, small in proportion but still large enough to swallow them all whole, framing the giant stalactite as a long, familiar nose. As the kids stood there, finally understanding what they were up against, Black Rock woke up.

“It’s a troll!” David squeaked, pressing up against the back of the water spirit. Twig agreed with a wary snarl. But the spirit didn’t even try and get them away; it just floated there, meeting Black Rock’s gaze with its own.

Hilda eyed the troll cautiously. She was more amazed than afraid, but some part of her was still worried; that had to be the largest troll in history, over twice the size of a forest giant, and she didn’t want to know what would happen if a creature that big turned aggressive.

But it didn’t. It let out another low rumbling noise, bubbles rising from its mouth, which quirked up into a gentle smile. One arm rose up from its side, its palm carefully hovering just below the kids’ feet; looking down, Hilda could see a tangled fishing net wrapped loosely around its fingers. The water spirit cooed in response, unbothered.

“It’s friendly,” Hilda breathed, unable to keep from smiling. She could see curiousity brimming in the troll’s eyes; she doubted it had ever seen humans underwater before.

“Looks like it,” Erin agreed; she had one hand half-raised, as if she wanted to reach out of the water spirit and touch the creature, “but I thought trolls all turned to stone during the day?”

“Only if they’re exposed to sunlight,” Frida spoke up, glancing up at the watery surface far above. “The water must be protecting it.” David swallowed, still eyeing Black Rock with suspicion.

“Are we sure it’s not going to try and eat us?” he asked nervously. Erin frowned at that, cheeks puffing out.

“Of course it’s not!” she said firmly. “Look at it; it wouldn’t hurt a fly. I bet people are just scared because they keep bumping their ships into it. That’s not Black Rock’s fault.”

Hilda went to say something in agreement, but she never got the chance. A sudden noise ripped through the quiet; the familiar metallic boom of a bell. It was deafening, the whole water spirit shaking at the sound. It jerked backwards just as Black Rock let out a horrible roar, eyes clenching shut with pain, and violently lurched forwards.

“What’s going on?!” David yelped. Black Rock’s bellowing drowned any reply. It seemed to be trying to grab them, furiously swiping at the water around it, but the water spirit was too fast.

It dipped low, racing down towards the seabed. Below a tangled mess of shipwrecks loomed, the graveyard of some ancient battle. The spirit zipped and dodged through the ruins, narrowly avoiding splintered wood and rusted shards of iron as it sped on.

Hilda felt like she was rattling around in a gumball machine, trying to avoid her friends as they tumbled around from the force. As the world spun she saw Black Rock still looming behind them, desperately reaching down with one hand even as the other clutched at the side of its head.

“It must think we’re causing the noise!” Frida yelled above the din.

“But we’re not!” Erin protested.

“Look out!” Alfur’s voice cut in, just as Black Rock reached the floor. One hand came crashing down behind them, obliterating one of the shipwrecks. Splinters perforated the water spirit, chunks of wood whizzing overhead. Twig yelped as half of a ship’s wheel nearly crashed into him, falling to the floor of the spirit’s bubble.

And then they were away. The spirit dipped behind the rotting hull of an upturned galleon, out of sight of Black Rock, and finally came to a halt. Distantly the great troll still roared in confusion and pain, the seabed quaking under its feet as it searched in vain for the source of the sound. But they were no longer its target.

Hilda stumbled to her feet. Frida had landed at her side, bumped about but unharmed, so carefully the blue-haired girl helped her up too; a glance around showed Erin doing the same for David, while Twig shook himself dry.

“Is everyone okay?” Frida asked. The others all gave an affirmative murmur.

“That was too close,” David said bluntly, shivering a little. “So much for wouldn’t hurt a fly, eh?”

“Black Rock wasn’t trying to hurt us,” Erin cut in defensively, tensing up under her coat. “It’s hurt and confused; all it wants is for that sound to stop.”

“Where’s it even coming from?” Alfur, still clinging behind Hilda’s ear, spoke up. “I don’t see why there would be a bell at the bottom of the harbour.”

“Well, there is one,” David added. He had stepped over to the edge of the water spirit’s bubble, and he was pointing out into the ocean beyond the ship graveyard. Hilda followed; sure enough, a short distance away was the rubble of an old stone building, a bell suspended under a roof held up by crumbling pillars.

“And that looks like one of Ahlberg’s machines!” Frida said suddenly. She was right; beside the bell, on the steps of the ruined building, was a small metal contraption with a hammer sticking out of the top, right within striking distance of the bell. A thick bundle of cables snaked away from it, winding over the seabed and back towards the shore.

“He must’ve rigged it to keep the trolls out of the harbour,” Hilda realised aloud, everything slotting into place, “but there was already a troll in the harbour, one that wasn’t harming anyone, and all he’s doing is confusing and hurting it.”

“And that’s why it’s started moving around more!” Erin finished, eyes wide. “Black Rock just wants to stop the bell! All we need to do is get it to smash that ruin!”

“That won’t stop Ahlberg from trying to destroy it,” Frida countered, “especially if he finds out it’s really a troll rock.”

“What if we told it to leave?” Hilda suggested. “That way it can be safe, and then everyone’s happy.”

That had worked for her with the elves, after all. Sometimes things just couldn’t work out, she supposed, as hard as that was to accept. Erin frowned, some of the light leaving her eyes, and that sent an uncomfortable pang of something Hilda couldn’t quite explain through her gut.

“You’re right,” the white-haired girl agreed quietly, reluctance in her voice. “The only problem is how do we tell Black Rock that?”

“Hmm.” Hilda hadn’t even thought about that. She didn’t speak troll, and she didn’t know anyone who did; even if she had, it wasn’t like she would’ve been able to reach them from down here. So she thought on, trying to figure out how else she could forge a connection with the troll…

Wait, that was it! Everything clicked into place at once; they had everything they needed, right here; she was sure of it. She broke into an eager smile without even thinking, her gaze turning over to the solution.

“Why are you looking at me?” Frida asked, uncertainty rising in her voice. Hilda grinned.

“You can use your magic to form a bond with Black Rock!” she explained hurriedly. Frida hesitated at that, almost deflating as her insecurities rose again; Hilda couldn’t ignore the second pang in her gut at the sight.

“You can do magic?” Erin breathed, her eyes wide, all apprehension about making Black Rock leave seemingly forgotten. Frida nodded awkwardly.

“Only a little,” she excused gingerly, turning her gaze back over to her blue-haired friend. “Hilda, this morning I couldn’t even bond with a sea anemone; how am I supposed to do it with a giant troll?”

“Because you’re a natural witch,” Hilda insisted, hearing Tildy’s voice echo in her head. She was determined to comfort Frida, to help her see herself the way Hilda saw her, Black Rock or not. She looked around the spirit-bubble again, feeling an idea form as her gaze fell on the scattered debris on the floor, left over from when Black Rock had tried to grab them.

“I don’t know.” Frida still hesitated, but Hilda was already moving. She found the shattered half of a ship’s wheel lying on the bottom of the bubble and reached down, ripping one of the handles free with a crunch of snapping wood.

“What if you had a wand?” she suggested mirthfully, holding the thing up. The young witch put a hand on her hip, forcing a painfully fake smile.

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes. Hilda’s expression softened, concern rising again as she walked over to her friend.

“I’m serious,” she said softly, holding out the makeshift wand. Gently she took one of Frida’s hands in her other, giving it what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I know you can do this, Frida.”

“Yeah!” David cheered.

“We’re all behind you!” Erin added; even Twig yapped in agreement. Frida’s cheeks darkened, and she squeezed back. Her free hand reached out, carefully taking the wand and holding it close to her chest. She took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’ll try,” she promised, her hand lingering in Hilda’s for a moment before she pulled away. Hilda felt her insides flutter at that, that strange feeling that only the witch and Erin seemed able to set off rising again.

Frida looked up at the walls of the spirit-bubble, meeting the back of the water spirit’s eyes. “Can you take us back out there? We need to get close to Black Rock.”

The spirit let out a muffled watery sound, one Hilda was sure sounded reluctant. Slowly it lifted off the seabed, carrying the kids up and over the shipwreck it had settled behind. Immediately Black Rock loomed, standing in the middle of the wreckage; it no longer looked in pain, what might have been sorrow twisting its features as it looked over the damage it had caused.

It noticed the water spirit approaching; it turned and took a half-step back, the seabed shuddering as its foot came down. It held both hands up, and there was apprehension in those massive eyes. But it didn’t make any move to stop them as they closed the distance.

“I think it’s scared of hurting us,” Erin breathed. Hilda nodded in agreement; she just knew somehow, looking at those eyes, that the other girl was right.

The water spirit carried them on, beneath the troll’s wary gaze, until finally they were right up between its eyes. Frida took a deep breath as they crossed the last few metres, the rocky surface slowly drifting into touching distance. The spirit shuddered to a stop beneath them, cooing in its own strange language.

“Okay,” she said quietly, taking another long breath, “this is it.”

“You can do it,” Hilda encouraged, anticipation building. “We believe in you.”

Hilda watched with bated breath as the witch reached out, through the water spirit’s side, her hand coming gently to rest against the smooth stony hide of the troll. She raised her improvised wand in the other, closing her eyes, pouring all her focus into the moment.

The tip of her wand started glowing blue. So did the hand she was holding against the troll’s side. The glow got brighter and brighter; Hilda felt like it was enveloping her, magical energy flowing all around. David and Erin’s eyes went wide; even Twig stared in amazement.

“Uhh, Hilda?” Alfur’s tiny voice broke the silence, quavering with uncertainty. “You might want to look at your hair?”

Reluctantly Hilda tore her gaze away from Frida, taking a strand of her hair in her hand. As she did her heart leapt into her throat; the glow wasn’t just coming from Frida, but also from her. Blue light danced down her curls, lighting up the bubble. Was this some consequence of being Frida’s familiar?

She didn’t get the chance to ask. Frida’s brow furrowed, her eyes screwing shut and teeth gritting with mental exertion. And then it happened; her eyelids snapped open, her eyes shining blue. Black Rock’s eyes were the same, spotlights in the dark water; she had done it.

Chapter Text

Frida landed with a splash. For a moment all she could feel was water surrounding her, weighing her down, pulling at her clothes and hair. Then her instincts kicked in; her feet found firm ground and she pushed up, her head bursting clear of the surface before her shoes even left the floor. She was suddenly standing upright, shaken, the water rising up to her neck but no further.

She froze as she took in her surroundings; it was like nothing she had ever seen. The sky was tinted dark red, bathing everything below its rolling clouds in shades of crimson. Behind her the sea stretched on forever, wine-dark waves rolling, but in front loomed a jagged shoreline, the frontier of an alien landscape.

A jumble of stones littered the earth, some rising in wobbling stacks that reached for the stormy sky. It almost looked like a city, one built by piling random rocks into the vague shapes of human buildings. Here and there a growth of coral jutted up between the structures like a tree, twisting and gnarling skywards. Frida was sure that somehow, on some instinctive level she didn’t quite understand, she recognised the place.

“Frida…”

The sudden voice was quiet, distant, carried on the wind. And yet the girl recognised it instantly. Her feet started moving before she even had time to think, carrying her on towards the source, towards the city.

“Mum?!” she called back. “Is that you?”

“Friiidaaa…” her mother’s voice drawled, growing louder as Frida waded forwards. She wasn’t sure how she knew, or why, but some part of her was suddenly desperate to find her mother. The rational part of her brain, the part that wanted to explore this place, to remember why she was here, seemed to have fallen silent.

As she got closer she could make out shapes moving on the shore, tiny figures that scurried between the stone structures that littered the place. Peering down, she realised they were tiny trolls, with long noses and beady red eyes. They went about their business in near-silence, completely unaware of the human girl staring at them from halfway up their harbour.

“Friiidaaaa…” her mother called again. That irrational part of Frida, the part that wanted her to follow, tried to pull her on. But suddenly she found her limbs wouldn’t respond. She felt panic rise inside, a sudden horrible tight feeling clenching around her lungs; why couldn’t she move?

Because she couldn’t get closer, her mind supplied. She couldn’t get closer because they would see her. She couldn’t be seen because they would hurt her. She couldn’t let them hurt her because then mum would wake up and… those weren’t her thoughts, she suddenly realised. They were truths she understood on some fundamental level, lessons someone else had learned, shoved into her brain as unwelcome intrusions.

She was moving back from the shore again before she even had a handle on her spiralling thoughts. The water swallowing her back up felt strangely reassuring, like a comforting embrace, and for a moment it was easier to breathe again. The pull of her mother’s voice, wherever in the city it had been coming from, seemed to have faded. Finally her head dipped below the water, and she let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

Her entire world exploded with pain. A sudden feeling ripped through her skull, tearing her mind to white-hot shreds. Her ears rang with deafening sound, overloading all her other senses. Her legs went out from under her, her knees landing painfully on the seabed.

“Mum!” she couldn’t help crying out, clenching her eyes shut. She didn’t know what was going on and everything hurt and she just wanted it all to stop. “Mum please! Help!” Blindly she reached out through the water, desperately trying to find the source of it all. Where was it coming from? “Please!”

The seabed beneath Frida shook. The horrible ringing faded, and with it the pain dulled. She slowly got to her feet, suddenly horribly aware that she was still breathing despite the water overhead.

There was a horrible cracking sound. She scrambled upwards, even as someone else’s horror and disgust awoke in her mind. As she burst into the crimson light she just knew that her mum was awake, and she just knew that was a terrible thing.

The city came into view just in time for her to see it fall apart. The rock towers were shaking themselves to pieces, tiny trolls scattering as their world came crashing down around them. Huge cracks ripped through the streets, swallowing people and stone buildings whole. All Frida could think as she watched the carnage was that this was somehow her fault.

Suddenly the entire centre of the city was obliterated. The earth bulged and then broke, a massive shape surging up from underneath it. Rocks and ruins tumbled as a giant effigy of crimson stone hauled itself into a sitting position, and Frida felt her blood turn to ice at the sight. Because the thing breaking out from under the city had the unmistakeable silhouette of her mother.

It peered down at her, white eyes framed between curls of blood red stone. Its face was set in concern, and Frida could do nothing but watch as it spoke with a voice that didn’t belong to it.

“Frida?”

And in a flash, it was all gone.

The inside of the water spirit’s bubble was deathly silent. Nobody dared move as they watched Frida; she was frozen, one hand up against Black Rock’s side, her eyes wide and glowing blue. The troll’s eyes still glowed too, as did Hilda’s hair, bathing the whole cramped chamber in ethereal light.

Suddenly Frida jerked back, losing her grip on the creature. Her arms fell limply to her sides, the light vanishing from her eyes. Her breaths came shaky, her chest heaving, and slowly she turned back to look at the others.

Hilda felt a spike of concern in her gut at the look on her friend’s face; Frida’s expression was twisted by fear and pain. Her lip quivered, and before she could even say anything tears started building in her eyes, running in streams down her face.

Hilda didn’t hesitate; she didn’t know why her friend was crying, or what she might have gotten from Black Rock; in that moment, it didn’t matter. Hilda reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close as she sniffled.

“I’ve got you,” she said gently, feeling more arms close carefully around her and Frida.

“No, we’ve got you,” Erin laughed a little; she and David had joined in, all offering Frida the comfort she needed. For a moment they all stayed like that, before Frida let out a long relieved breath and pulled away. The embrace parted to let her out, the other kids forming a circle around her.

“What happened?” Hilda couldn’t help asking, questions surging as her concern for Frida abated. “Did you speak to it?”

“No,” Frida replied, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. “It was… strange, I guess? I had some kind of vision.” She swallowed, something unreadable rising in her eyes. “I was standing in water, just outside a miniature city, and then there was this noise, I think, and suddenly everything hurt.” Her breaths turned a little shaky at the memory.

“Wait,” Erin cut in, eyes going wide, “you were in the water, and you heard a noise?” She looked up at Black Rock’s face, then back down. “What if you were seeing what Black Rock sees? What if that’s what it feels like when the bell rings?”

Hilda could see the realisation click in her friend’s mind, Frida’s whole body tensing as she looked up at the troll looming over them. When she looked back her cheeks had paled and there was worry in her eyes; suddenly, she seemed terrified of her own conclusions.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, her voice quavering, “but that means…”

“That means what?” David asked.

“That means everyone’s in danger!” she declared. “Black Rock has a mother, an even bigger troll, bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, and she’s sleeping underneath Trolberg.”

“What?” David and Hilda jumped in unison.

“Under the city?” Erin breathed. Frida nodded firmly, her expression turning grim.

“If she thinks Black Rock’s in danger, she’ll try and protect it,” she insisted. “She’ll wake up and destroy the whole city!”

Hilda felt her blood turn to ice; she understood exactly why Frida was so afraid. She had seen what an ancient giant could do just by accident; what would it be like if something that size burst out of the ground, angry at humanity? What if this mysterious troll-mother was even larger?

She scrambled for an answer, trying and failing not to panic as visions of disaster spiralled in her mind. Suddenly something clicked.

“Wait!” All eyes turned to her. “What if we could talk to the troll mother?” She turned her gaze over to Frida. “If we can find a way to her, underneath the city, then maybe you can use your magic again!”

Frida considered it for a moment. Hilda smiled, the bones of a plan settling in her mind. But her hopes were dashed when the young witch shook her head.

“That won’t work,” she said bluntly, shaking her head.

“Why not?” Hilda challenged.

“Because she won’t listen,” Frida insisted, something painfully familiar creeping into her voice. “We won’t be able to convince her not to protect her own child. Even if we make sure Black Rock’s safe, I just know its mother won’t listen to us.”

“Then we’ll have to talk to Ahlberg.”

All eyes snapped over at once; it was Erin, the same determination from the pier brimming in her eyes again. “He has to stand down if the whole city is in danger. And if he won’t listen to me, then he’ll listen to mum; I’m sure I can get her to understand.”

“I’m not sure,” Frida admitted. “What if Ahlberg wants to fight the troll mother? What if he tries to wake her up deliberately?”

“And endanger all those people?” Erin retorted. “I know he’s an idiot, but even he can’t be that bad. Besides, if the troll mother really is that big, then who’s to say Black Rock’s her only child? What if she’s got other kids?”

“Then any of Ahlberg’s anti-troll schemes could wake her up!” Hilda finished, the realisation chilling her to the bone. Her home and everything she knew felt like it was hanging by a thread, the threat of losing it all rattling her very core. But she did what she always did and buried that fear, looking back over the group. “Erin’s right; it won’t be easy, but we have to get Ahlberg to stand down.”

“Is that the plan then?” David asked, glancing nervously over to Black Rock’s face. There was something undeniably expectant in the troll’s massive eyes, mixed with a sort of distant care.

“We’ll lead Black Rock to the bell first,” Frida said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Then we’ll head back to the harbour and try and stop the fleet.”

Erin grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter Text

Trolberg Harbour was buzzing with activity when they finally reached the shore. Fishing boats and Patrol vessels were moored all along the quayside, sailors and officers scurrying between them as they made frantic preparations. Even the smallest boats had been fitted with harpoon cannons, the bladed ends of their projectiles glinting in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

The larger boats had cleared their decks; their crews had lowered ramps to the shore, and a steady queue of excavators and drilling machines were being driven up onto the waiting ships and chained down. The stench of diesel fuel hung in the air, spread by oily fumes belched from rumbling engines.

In the middle of it all, halfway down the main pier, stood Erik Ahlberg, overseeing the preparations with a self-assured grin. Gerda followed at his heel, clipboard in hand, and beside them both stood Erin’s mother. She cut an imposing figure; she had a long red overcoat hiding her overalls, and what looked like a shotgun was slung over one shoulder.

The kids stormed down the quayside towards them, Erin leading the group with Twig bounding at her heels. Alfur was still behind Hilda’s ear, clinging on for dear life. As they closed the distance they could overhear the adults’ conversation, Ahlberg’s voice resounding loud over the harbour. For once, Hilda was glad for his lack of volume control.

“Deputy Gerda,” he was saying, “how much longer until all the boats are ready?” He looked over the assembled fleet impatiently, fists clenched inside his gloves. Gerda sighed, biting her lower lip in frustration.

“We are still loading the equipment, sir,” she replied, gesturing wide. Captain Pike coughed loudly.

“I’m not putting to sea until everything is secure,” she insisted, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll leave when we’re ready and no sooner; I’m not taking any risks with all that extra weight on deck.” She jerked her head back towards her own ship; a large digger wobbled atop it, the bucket looming menacingly.

“Very well, Agatha,” Ahlberg conceded reluctantly. But then his expression shifted, frown giving way to a dark smile. “But soon, we will sail, and when we do, Black Rock won’t know what hit it!” He punched one fist into his palm for emphasis.

“Wait!” Erin had finally reached the end of the pier. Her voice split the air even as the other kids scrambled to catch up, the harbourfolk all turning to see the source of the interruption. Some rolled their eyes or muttered under their breath as the white-haired girl and her friends hurried past, skidding to a halt just in front of her mother. “You can’t attack Black Rock!”

“Erin, we’ve had this discussion.” There was frustration in the woman’s voice, mixed with disappointment. Her gaze turned up to the other kids, and Hilda felt something cold settle in her gut at the clear disapproval in Captain Pike’s gaze. Erin took a deep breath, hands coming to rest on her hips.

“No, we haven’t!” she protested. “Please, listen to me; I know the secret of Black Rock!” That got her mother’s attention; Captain Pike’s eyes went wide for a moment, before her surprise was buried under fresh concern.

“You do?” Erik cut in, stepping up. His eyes narrowed, something predatory in his gaze. Erin’s mother held up a hand to silence him.

“What do you mean?” she asked quickly, something straining her tone. “What secret? How do you know?” Erin seemed to clam up at her questions, shifting uncomfortably under the woman’s gaze. And in an instant Hilda knew what was going on, because she knew that feeling far too well; the white-haired girl was afraid to admit what she had done. “Erin?”

“We went out to the rock together,” Hilda spoke up, stepping forwards, “to find the truth about it.”

Captain Pike’s expression twisted again, her mouth falling open slightly. But before she could say anything else Erik loomed beside her, his eyes wide with eager hunger.

“And?” he demanded, one hand raised. “What did you find?” He clenched it into a fist.

“It’s a troll rock!” Erin declared, her temper flaring. Her arms were rigid at her sides, fists clenched. “It’s the biggest troll I’ve ever seen, and it’s friendly!”

His expression darkened; the hunger in his gaze only grew, his mouth twisting into a grin. He tilted his head down, and under the shadow of his hat there was something strangely menacing about his features. He chuckled under his breath, but he didn’t get the chance to reply.

“What were you thinking?!” Captain Pike roared suddenly. “Erin, you know how dangerous it is out there, and you know how dangerous trolls are too. You could have been seriously hurt or even killed getting close to one like that.”

“Mum,” Erin tried to protest, but her mother wasn’t having it.

“What would you have done if a squall hit, or your boat overturned, or-”

“We didn’t go in a boat, actually.” It was Frida, her face darkening as she waded into the fray. “We rode out on a water spirit.”

“And that makes it better?” Captain Pike threw her arms wide. “Spirits lure people out to sea and drown them. You’re lucky it didn’t try that with you.” She took a deep breath, clearly forcing herself to be calm. “Erin, I tell you to stay here because here it’s safe. I know the sea and its creatures might seem friendly and inviting but I promise you they’re not.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Erin’s voice cracked painfully. Without even thinking Hilda took one of her hands in her own, desperate to offer some reassurance. “I saw Black Rock; it doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“It’s a troll,” Erik cut in firmly.

“And it’s been sinking our ships!” one of the harbourfolk agreed, yelling from across the harbour. Hilda felt something snap at that, somewhere deep inside.

“Only because your bell was upsetting it!” she couldn’t help butting in, jabbing her free hand at Ahlberg. “It doesn’t want to hurt anyone, and if you try and attack it the entire city will be in danger!” Her friends nodded in frantic agreement. Erik’s back straightened, drawing himself up to his full towering height.

“The city is already in grave danger with a troll that size in the harbour,” he declared loudly. “And the longer we let it sit there, the more that danger grows. We are at war with all of troll-kind, and we cannot let ourselves fall for whatever ruse this one is pulling.”

It was horribly clear he was beyond persuading; the realisation set Hilda’s gut squirming inside her. Captain Pike nodded in agreement. Her daughter looked down for a moment; Hilda gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she looked up again, swallowing.

“Mum, please,” she pleaded. The woman shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Erin, but that’s enough.” Her expression hardened again, her gaze passing back over the assembled children before settling on her own. “I want you to go home, right now, and stay there until I come for you.” She sighed crossly. “As for the rest of you; from now on, stay away from my daughter. I won’t have you putting her in any more danger.”

She turned away with a final disappointed look, turning to Erik. “Ahlberg; how does this change our plans?” He flashed the children a final smug grin, then eagerly met her gaze.

“Considerably,” he admitted. “Deputy Gerda!”

“Yes sir?” his assistant asked, stepping up beside him. She still had her clipboard out, ready to take down his new orders.

“What state is the you-know-what in?” he questioned, leaning in close, his voice quieting enough that Hilda had to concentrate to hear. Gerda responded with a blank stare.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir,” she admitted bluntly. He frowned, barely concealing a surge of frustration.

“The emergency truck, deputy,” he clarified patronisingly. “How long would it take to get that ready for use?”

Gerda’s eyes went wide; for a moment she hesitated, blinking, before she shook her head and snapped back into action. She flipped back through the sheets on her clipboard, looking for something specific.

“As of this morning,” she began, settling on one page, “it was still partially assembled in one of the hangars. But we should be able to get it ready by this evening, sir. It would mean departing after sunset, but it could be done.”

“Very good, deputy,” Erik replied, grinning. He spun back to face Captain Pike. “There you have it, Agatha; we’ll push back the assault until tonight, and bring our greatest firepower against that beast.” She nodded and hummed in agreement.

Hilda felt anger rising again; she didn’t know what weapon they were talking about, but it didn’t matter. How could they dismiss her and her friends like that? How could they talk about keeping the city safe and yet so blatantly ignore it when someone tried to warn them?

“Fine!” Erin suddenly shouted, her composure giving way before Hilda’s could; before anyone could try and stop her, she wrenched her hand out of Hilda’s grasp. “When the city’s destroyed it’ll be your fault!”

She ran, darting past her friends and off down the pier. Her mother looked back, raising one hand as if she could somehow reach her, but the girl was already gone. Hilda glared at her, then turned away; her friend needed her right now, and that was what mattered. In her peripheral she saw Frida start running too, Twig bounding between them.

“Wait for me!” David called, hurrying on after.

Erin was halfway down the quayside by the time the others cleared the pier, dodging past bewildered fisherfolk. She was still running, and Hilda felt her chest tighten as she followed after. Because she had just seen her own worst fears play out in front of her eyes

“Erin, wait!” she cried out, forcing her own thoughts and fears back down. Erin finally faltered, slowing unsteadily to a stop just ahead. Her whole body shook, hands coming to rest on her knees.

Hilda panted to a stop just behind her, Frida and David falling in either side of her. Slowly Erin turned around to face them; her face was flushed, and her eyes dampened as she glanced between each of them. Hilda felt that horrible icy feeling curling in her gut again at the look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the white-haired girl said quietly.

“It’s okay,” Hilda reassured quickly, stepping forwards, “it’s not your fault.” She opened her arms wide, offering Erin a hug, but the other girl shook her head.

“I’m the one who thought my mum would listen,” she protested weakly. Hilda couldn’t help herself, desperate to comfort her friend; she pulled Erin into an embrace anyway, arms wrapping around the girl’s mackintosh.

“And I’m the one who agreed with you,” she countered, feeling Erin shudder as she tried to hold back tears, “even though I knew what Ahlberg was like.”

“It’s none of our faults,” David added firmly, standing just beside them. There was uncharacteristic confidence in his voice. Frida nodded.

“Yup, she added softly, “it’s Ahlberg and your mum who didn’t listen.” She sighed, glancing back at the crowded pier. “But that does mean we need a new plan.”

Hilda and Erin parted, both stepping back so that the group formed a close circle. Hilda wracked her brain for a moment, fingers reaching up to brush her chin as she scrambled to think of another solution. One seemed obvious, at least.

“What if we sabotaged the boats?” she suggested, only to feel her heart sink as the others gave her awkward looks. “What?”

“The pier’s crawling with Safety Patrol,” David said quickly, “and even if they didn’t see us, they’d know it was us.”

“And that won’t solve the bigger problem,” Frida added, her own face sets, “you and Erin were right before; the only way to fix this is to get the Safety Patrol to stand down. But how can we do that if they won’t listen?” She threw her hands up helplessly, panic rising in her eyes.

“What if we show them?” Erin suddenly spoke up. She wiped her eyes; an idea twinkled in her pupils, behind the pain. “If we go out there and get to Black Rock first, and they all see it’s harmless, then maybe they’ll still come around?” There was doubt in her voice, despite her best attempts to hide it, but at her words Hilda felt growing conviction inside.

“That might work,” she agreed. “We’ll try; we’ve got to!” A reluctant murmur of agreement passed through the group; it was barely a plan, a last-minute idea pulled out of nowhere, but what choice did they have?

“Alfur?” Frida asked; she was looking up at Hilda’s ear, meeting the elf’s gaze. “Could we get another water spirit ride this evening?” Though she couldn’t see him, Hilda felt him shake his head.

“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “They only really come that close to shore at high tide, and there’s too many people about anyway. Sorry.”

Hilda frowned. “Then we’ll have to think of something else,” she said quietly, turning everything over in her mind again; where could they get a boat?

“I might have an idea,” Erin said suddenly, her voice quiet. Hilda looked up; the white-haired girl was looking past her, back towards the pier. The blue-haired girl followed her gaze to her mother’s boat, still waiting amid the others.

“We’re going to steal one of their boats?” David asked. Erin shook her head, a small smile creeping onto her face.

“Something better,” she explained, confidence building with each word. “Mum’s taken the lifeboat off the Lady Idra to fit that excavator on board. She’ll have left it down at the pier by our house, I’m sure of it.”

“So we can use that to sail out to Black Rock!” Hilda finished. Erin nodded, giving an affirmative hum.

“Sounds like a plan,” Frida agreed, breaking into a small smile of her own. “I’ve got to be home for dinner, but I should be able to come back afterwards. Then we can all meet up together and head out.”

The mention of dinner made Hilda pause; she had completely forgotten about that. She would just have to lie to her mum, she supposed, and find an excuse to slip back out after they’d eaten. She always hated having to do it, but what choice did she have now that her mum didn’t want her adventuring? It was lie, or give up who she was and risk the whole city in the process.

“I’ll have to go home for dinner too,” she admitted, burying all her feelings for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Where should we meet after?”

“My house is down at the end of the quay,” Erin offered, gesturing over her shoulder down the harbour with one hand. “That’s where the boat will be; it’s a tall, red-brick building with a white shed on the side.”

“Sounds good,” David replied, nodding in agreement; Frida did the same.

“Okay,” Hilda turned to leave, feeling a jitter of excitement run through her bones. “I’ll see you all tonight.”

Chapter Text

It was dark by the time Hilda and Alfur made it home, the sun setting as she walked up from the harbour. She walked up the stairs to her apartment with some trepidation; despite her best efforts to ignore it there was a horrible empty feeling in her stomach. Because she knew her mum wouldn’t be happy, she knew she would have to keep up her lies, and she knew she would have to find an excuse to go back out after dinner.

She forced herself to be calm as she stepped through her own front door. She pushed it shut with one hand, reaching up behind her ear with the other. Alfur jumped on and she gently put him down on the floor; he scurried away, bound for his clock-home in her room. Twig followed him off, while she headed for the dinner table.

“Mum!” she announced. “I’m home!” There was no reply.

Looking up, the girl could see she was late. The table was already laid, her mum and Tontu sitting in their places; both their plates were clear, and the nisse was cradling a warm mug of tea over his lap. A slice of pie waited expectantly at Hilda’s own place, cold and uninviting. She felt a stab of guilt at the sight; she had definitely missed dinner.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” she said quickly, pulling out her chair and hopping up onto the seat. Tontu looked silently over at her, but her mother kept her gaze down.

“Oh that’s okay.” Johanna’s voice was neutral, if a little tired; she didn’t sound upset, at least. Inwardly Hilda felt a surge of relief at that. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” she replied, pulling free a chunk of pie with her fork. Her first impression had been right; it was stone cold. She went to cut more, but the clatter of Johanna’s fork against her own plate made her stop dead.

“Find anything interesting?” the woman asked, finally looking up. Hilda murmured in confusion, feeling that horrible tightness clamp down in her chest again. There was something Johanna wasn’t saying, she was sure of it.

Her mother went on, leaning forwards onto the table. “During the beach cleanup,” she challenged, pressing the end of her fork into the palm of her free hand, “any interesting finds?”

Hilda suddenly felt a lot like she was being interrogated; the air itself felt tense around her, and uncomfortably warm. She scrambled for a response, words tumbling through her mind as she grasped for a lie, her insides suddenly writhing with horrible sensations of worry and doubt.

“Oh, um,” she stammered, blowing air out between her lips, “just the usual litter and stuff.” She looked down, hoping that would be enough.

There was a horribly loud screech of wood against tiles. She looked over; Tontu had shoved his chair back, and without a word he dropped to the floor. He walked rigidly away, hands clasped behind his back. Hilda’s anxieties spiralled in the awkward silence; was something wrong? Had she given it away?

“Oh,” she said quickly, turning back to Johanna just as Tontu vanished into Nowhere Space, “but David did find a shell shaped like his own face.” She tried her best to sound convincing, hoping that her mum would just take that and leave, that things would be okay.

But she was hoping in vain. Johanna’s gaze turned down again, her face falling. She took a deep breath, her expression hardening, then spoke again.

“I told myself,” she began, frustration rising in her voice, “‘if she comes in here and she just tells the truth’.”

She knew. Hilda could see it in her eyes, in the way she looked away, in the frustration, no, anger building in her tone. Her daughter had lied, and somehow she knew. Somehow all of Hilda’s carefully constructed plans were about to come crashing down around her ears, she was sure.

“Mum?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking. The horrible feeling in her chest tightened painfully, her guts wriggling more as a horrible cold feeling spread through them.

“I called Raven Leader,” Johanna said bluntly, eyes closing and brow creasing. “There was no scout activity today.” Something defensive curled in Hilda’s gut at the accusation in her tone; it wasn’t like she had wanted to lie. What other choice did she have if her mum didn’t support her?

She sighed. “Okay, but-”

“But nothing!” Johanna snapped, eyes opening to reveal pupils brimming with anger.

“If you could let me explain!” Hilda pleaded, desperate excuses tumbling through her mind. But her mother wasn’t having any of it.

“That you lied to me,” she rebuffed, nostrils flaring as her temper rose, “and then disappeared while there’s a giant troll loose in the harbour?” She threw one hand out, towards the TV. “I was worried sick!”

Hilda looked over, feeling her blood run cold and the pressure in her rib cage grow at the sight. On the screen was a muted news broadcast, the announcer showing off an artist’s impression of Black Rock. It was all wrong, with a wide mouth of vicious teeth and glowing red eyes.

Johanna stood up suddenly, forcing her chair back, and stepped over to the kitchen window. Hilda watched her for a moment, desperately scrambling for the right thing to say. How could she possibly explain this? That her mum had backed her into a corner, that she’d had to go out to Black Rock, that it still needed her help?

“Mum you don’t understand,” she finally said, pulling herself out of her chair. “I had to-”

“You don’t have to anything!” Johanna snapped, glancing back at her. “You are grounded!” Hilda felt something snap at that, somewhere deep inside. What else had she been supposed to do, if this was how her mum was going to react?

“What?” A lump, horrible and heavy, settled at the back of her throat.

“And you’re not leaving this house without me until I say so,” her mother continued firmly. Hilda felt her facade beginning to crack, defensiveness and sadness rising in equal measure before she could stop them. This wasn’t fair; this wasn’t even really her fault! And before she could help herself, more words spilled out.

“This is why I don’t tell you things anymore!”

“Why?” Johanna looked back again, almost glaring. “Because then you’ll have to face the consequences of your rash decisions?”

Hilda felt her eyes stinging; so that was it then, there was no understanding left. All of the support she had relied on somehow gone out from under her. No matter what she did, it was bad and wrong and to her mum it would always be her fault.

She stormed away even as tears started to flow, throwing her door open and slamming it shut behind her. The whole house shook but she didn’t care; she threw herself onto her bed, curling up as her body shuddered with involuntary sobs.

She felt something furry brush against her, and then the gentle touch of a familiar tongue on her face. Normally she would have welcomed the comfort, but right then she was too caught up in her own thoughts.

“Twig, stop it,” she murmured half-heartedly, “I’m not in the mood.” But he didn’t let up, and slowly her tears were reduced to quiet sniffles, the pressure in her chest letting up. She opened her eyes; through the watery blur she could see he had settled down on the bed beside her, concern in his dark tiny eyes. “At least you listen to me,” she said dryly, wiping her eyes with a sleeve.

As she lay there, the evening’s events turning over in her mind, another thought settled. “I guess this is how Erin felt,” she muttered, only to stop dead.

Erin! She had nearly forgotten, caught up in her own misery, but her friends still needed her. She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there, but already it was too far past dark. But now she was grounded there was no way her mum would let her go anywhere, let alone down to the harbour.

The only other option would be to sneak out. She considered it for a moment; she knew it was wrong, and she doubted her absence would go unnoticed, but she also knew this was for the greater good. It wasn’t like she had any other options.

She sat up on the bed, feeling her resolve grow as her gaze turned over to the window down the far end of her room. She had already used it as an escape route once in recent memory; all she had to do was climb down the fire escape, grab her bike from the fence, and cycle back down to the harbour: easy.

Twig whined as she got off the bed. She reached down to scratch behind his ears, glad at least someone cared how she felt. It was a small comfort, but it was something.

“I’m okay, boy,” she reassured. He looked her up and down, something questioning in his gaze. “I’m going back out there; the others need me.” He gave a strange grumbling noise, and instantly she knew he understood. “I’ll be back later.”

She pulled the beret from her head and undid her scarf, throwing both onto her bed beside him. With practiced ease she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, determination building. She didn’t want anything slowing her down.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” another voice asked meekly from somewhere behind her. Hilda’s gaze snapped up; it was Alfur, standing on the edge of his shelf, his not-hands clasped awkwardly in front of his stomach. “Hilda, I overheard the argument from here; your mum sounded very upset.”

“So,” Hilda shot back, defensiveness rising again, “what else am I supposed to do? Erin, David, and Frida need me; Black Rock needs me.” She turned away, stepping up towards the window, something bitter forcing its way up her throat. “And besides, if mum’s not going to listen to me, why should I listen to her?”

Alfur sighed, but he didn’t say anything else as she reached for the latch. In one move she threw the window up; the cold night air buffeted her, the wind stirring up her room. But she paid it no mind. Her purpose was clear. She stepped out onto the fire escape; she didn’t look back.

Johanna sighed. She had been feeling restless all evening, pacing between the living room and the kitchen. The abandoned remains of her dinner still littered the table; Hilda’s nearly-uneaten pie almost seemed to be taunting her, daring her to clean it away. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Instead she drifted back to the window by the sink, turning over the argument in her head. Her daughter’s last words had cut deep, an ugly truth laid bare, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“This is why I don’t tell you things anymore!”

Hilda had only wanted her to listen, a horrible voice in the back of her head reminded her. The girl had been practically pleading for understanding, for a chance to explain herself, but in a blur of worry turned to anger Johanna had put her foot down instead.

She had confirmed her daughter’s worst fears, she realised. In her anger she had just proven why Hilda needed to hide things. And in doing so, that voice told her, she had become the kind of mother she never wanted to be.

She felt herself welling up at the realisation. She had been so certain in the moment that she was doing the right thing, but now that certainty was crumbling down around her ears. In some horribly ironic twist, her attempts to be a better mother had only driven her daughter away.

She sniffled, fighting back tears as she got to her feet. She had to talk to Hilda, she decided, and this time she had to listen. So she headed over to the girl’s room, a myriad of emotions rising as she stepped up to the door.

She wiped her eyes with a sweater sleeve and knocked on the door. There was no answer; she felt a spike of worry, but she did her best to ignore it.

“Hilda?” she called; still, silence answered. “I’m coming in, okay?”

She pushed the door open and stepped through, only to stop dead at the sight. Hilda’s bed was empty, the sheets crumpled and messy but bare. Twig sat beside it; as soon as he saw Johanna he let out a low growl, one that to her sounded almost accusatory. But that wasn’t what really worried her.

Looking down the room, she could see the back window was wide open. The curtains were flapping loudly in the wind, cold air filling the empty space. But something much colder settled in Johanna’s gut as she realised there was no sign of her daughter.

“Umm, Johanna?”

Her gaze snapped up; Alfur was standing on his shelf, concern in his tiny eyes. She met his gaze.

“Where’s Hilda?”

Chapter Text

The chain on Hilda’s bike clattered as she pedalled down the street. The cold air whipped at her face, blowing her hair and tugging at her ponytail, but she didn’t care. She hurried on, houses flashing past, racing to get down to the harbour as fast as she could. The memories of her fight with her mum still stung, lingering in her mind, but she was determined to ignore them; she had more important things to worry about.

She rode in the middle of the road; it was late enough that there was little traffic about. Ahead the street sloped downwards, dipping towards the bay. Between the houses Hilda could already make out the sea, waves glinting in the moonlight, and where the street met the quayside she could just see a familiar pier clustered with waiting boats.

Suddenly light exploded around her; her shadow was cast on the road ahead, enveloped in a halo of glowing yellow. There was the roar of an engine, loud in her ears, and she just had time to realise a vehicle had pulled out into the road behind her before its horn gave a deep, bellowing blast.

She swerved out of the way. The bike wobbled under her; her knuckles went white on the handlebars as she fought to hold it straight. She bounced up onto the pavement before she could stop herself, just as the vehicle behind took the opening and thundered past.

It was some kind of truck. At first all she saw was the cab, painted drab brown and emblazoned with the shield of the Safety Patrol. But as it passed and the rear of the thing came into view she felt her blood turn to ice; behind the cab was a flatbed, and mounted on it, aimed up over the front of the vehicle, was what looked like a massive flashlight. Thick cables hung down from its casing, jostling as the vehicle sped on.

That had to be the so-called ‘emergency truck’: the mysterious weapon that Ahlberg had delayed his entire plan for. It drove onwards, down towards the harbour, and as she watched it go Hilda felt her resolve growing again. She decided to follow it; her and her friends needed to know what they were up against.

She pedalled on, the bike’s chain biting with a clunk as she shifted gears. Silently she thanked Frida and David for teaching her to ride, then turned her focus back to the street ahead. As she watched the truck lumbered to a halt at the end of the pier; in the glare of its headlights the harbourfolk gathered, Safety Patrol officers mingling between them.

They all drew nearer as Hilda sped on. Finally she braked, skidding to a halt in the shadow of the last building before the street opened out onto the dockside. She dropped one foot to the ground, not bothering to dismount, and peered across the darkened quayside to the pier just ahead.

She watched as Erik Ahlberg stepped up, putting himself between the truck and the fisherfolk, Gerda once again at his side. Even from behind Hilda could tell he had a smug grin on his face, and his voice echoed loud enough for her to hear.

“Good sailors of Trolberg,” he began proudly, “at long last, your wait is at an end.” The expressions of the crowd were mixed, regarding the weapon behind him with suspicion, but he paid them no mind. “Because right now, the Safety Patrol’s anti-troll technology is more effective than it’s ever been, and this is our most powerful weapon of all! I give you: the XB-24 Daybreaker!”

“This baby outputs a beam of up to two-million lumens,” Gerda added, “at maximum capacity, of course.” Erik nodded, raising a fist.

“That’s enough to turn any troll into nothing more than smoking rubble!” he declared viciously. Standing at the front of the crowd, Captain Pike hummed in agreement; the other harbourfolk started smiling, taken in by his energy. “Even one as big as an island will stand no chance. All we need to do is bring the monster into range so that I, Erik Ahlberg of Trolberg Safety Patrol, can personally put this beast down for good!”

A cheer rang out. Hilda felt sick, furious anger rising again. How could he talk like that about a creature he hadn’t even seen, about a creature that never wanted to hurt anyone? Part of her wanted to run over there right then and give him a piece of her mind, but she forced herself not to; she had already seen how easily he would brush off her words.

“We will make this city safe again!” he bellowed. “Who’s with me?!”

A cheer rang out, sailors and officers raising fists or harpoons skywards in agreement. Hilda could watch no longer, feeling her stomach lurch even as she tore her gaze away. This was worse than she could have ever imagined; she had to warn the others, now.

She slammed her feet down on the pedals, gears clunking and chain rattling as she set off around the corner and off down the dockside. She didn’t bother looking back, not caring if they saw her. She could outrun them all anyway.

Houses and shops flashed past as she hurried on, all shuttered for the night. Ahead the quayside gave way to unrestrained beaches, smaller houses dotting the shoreline, and right on the boundary, where a long wooden jetty stuck out over the water, was one building that stood out.

It was tall and narrow, with red-brick walls. A small white extension jutted out from one side, roofed with blue wood. But those weren’t what grabbed Hilda’s attention; what she could see was a small cluster of familiar shapes gathered outside its door, one waving a flickering yellow lantern.

“Hilda!” Erin’s voice cut through the night as Hilda skidded to a halt by the house. David and Frida stood with her, waiting expectantly; at their feet was a large brown dog, its fur splotched with off-white patches.

“Who’s that?” Hilda couldn’t help asking as she jumped off her bike, propping it up against the side of the building. Something twinkled in Erin’s eyes at that.

“This is Archie,” she said quickly, reaching down to rub the dog’s head, “remember? He’s Mum’s dog, really, but I couldn’t just leave him here all alone.” He yapped, as if in agreement. Hilda nodded, remembering what Erin had said on the way out to Black Rock.

“Okay then,” she said quickly, “let’s get started.” But before she could take a single step, Frida’s voice cut her off.

“Hilda, are you okay?” she asked quietly. She took a step forwards, gentle concern in her eyes. “Have you been crying?”

For a moment, Hilda didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to break down there and then, to pour out all of her hurt about her lies and her mum and everything else. A lump had settled painfully in her throat, but she swallowed hard and ignored it, reaching up to rub any stray tear-tracks off her face; she still had bigger things to worry about.

“I’m fine,” she insisted after a moment, hating how her voice quavered. Frida frowned, but before she could say anything else the blue-haired girl went on, determined to steer things away from her own issues. “We need to go, now; I’ve seen Ahlberg’s new weapon, and it’s not good.”

“Do I even want to know?” David asked gingerly. Hilda frowned.

“It’s called the ‘Daybreaker’,” she explained quickly. “It looks like, like a giant light cannon; he says it’ll turn Black Rock to rubble.” Erin suppressed a gasp; a flash of horror crossed Frida’s face, while David flinched.

“Then we’ll just have to stop him from using it,” the white-haired girl said firmly. “Come on.”

She didn’t even wait for the others, hurrying away from her house and down the pier with Archie in tow. Hilda followed, the old boards of the jetty creaking under her boots as she bounded along it. In her peripheral she could see David and Frida following.

Tied to the the end of the jetty was a small rowboatboat, bobbing up and down gently as waves passed under it. It looked old but sturdy, Erin’s lantern-light flickering off thick wooden boards painted white and red as she set the light down on the pier. She scrambled into the boat quickly and sat down; her dog leapt in after her, taking up position with his front legs dangling off the bow.

Hilda joined them without hesitation; her stomach lurched when the boat shifted under her boots, but she suppressed the feeling and perched on one of the benches. Frida sat down beside her, her hands loosely gripping the bench to steady herself. David hesitated for a moment on the dockside, taking a deep breath, then joined them; he barely squeezed onto the end of the bench, grabbing the side of the boat so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Okay,” Erin said with a nod. She turned back and untied the rope tethering the boat’s bow to the dock with practiced ease, before taking up the boat’s oars. “Let’s go.”

She gave a heave, and slowly the boat jerked away from the dock. Hilda frowned, impatience building; with this much weight aboard, her friend could barely move them. Erin gritted her teeth, digging the oars again into the water, but it barely made a difference.

“Wait!” Frida’s voice split the air; all eyes turned to her as she awkwardly stood up, trying her best not to upset the boat. “I think I know a spell which might help us.” She hesitated for a moment; Hilda blinked, before realising the young witch was waiting for approval. Erin seemed to notice too, eyes widening with eagerness.

“Go ahead,” she said quickly. Frida murmured a reply, crouching down as best she could in the cramped space between the boat’s two benches. One hand reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out her wand, while she pressed her other palm to the damp floor of the vessel.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and raised her wand. “Forma vatten!”

Suddenly wand was glowing blue; so was her other hand, and with a start Hilda realised her hair was shimmering the same way. More of the glow spread out beneath the boat, expanding rapidly through the water.

“Woah,” Erin breathed. Frida didn’t reply, brow furrowing.

“Flytta snabbt!” she declared. The glowing water jumped to life at her words; there was a roar like a waterfall and the whole boat jerked, shooting away from the dock. Suddenly they were flying along, stirring up white water in their wake as Frida’s magic carried them on. Erin kept an eye ahead, using the oars to steer them away from shore and out towards Black Rock.

Hilda felt a sudden nudge from David, his elbow bumping her ribs. She looked back at him, unwelcome worry rising in her gut again, but before she could ask what was wrong he gestured silently back to shore. She followed his gaze, only to feel her heart sink and her chest tighten painfully as her gaze passed over the street outside Erin’s house.

Because what David had seen was a painfully familiar yellow car. As Hilda watched it screeched to a halt on the dwindling dockside, one door flying open; past the glare of its headlights she could just make out the unmistakable silhouette of a woman in a yellow coat and bobble hat step out frantically into the night. But they were already far away, and with a sigh Hilda turned back to face the others; she had more important things to worry about now.

Chapter Text

Hilda’s heart was pounding by the time they reached Black Rock. It loomed out of the water, dark and imposing; even knowing its true nature, she couldn’t deny there was something unsettling about those jagged spikes of stone. Still, she buried her feelings, holding tight to the side of the boat as Frida’s magic drove them on.

“You can stop now!” Erin called. She dipped one oar below the waterline, biting her lip in concentration as she twisted the handle. Frida opened her eyes and lifted her hand, the magic fading from the water beneath the boat, and with a splash they skidded to a halt just beside the rock.

Frida stood up gingerly, wobbling as the boat rocked beneath her. She dusted herself down, shoving her wand away, determination rising in her eyes.

“Okay,” she said quickly, “we’re here; is there any sign of Ahlberg’s fleet?”

Hilda stood up, the boat creaking under her boots. She peered out into the darkness; distantly she could make out the lights of Trolberg, the window-glow of houses spilling out towards the shore. Closer there were dark shapes, barely visible, but with no light she couldn’t make out any details, so she had to assume they were just smaller rocks.

“Nope,” David said before she could, his dark eyes narrowing.

“Then we’ve still got time,” she said firmly. The others nodded in agreement, a shared glance of understanding flashing between them. She turned away, looking up at the craggy rock jutting out behind them. “We need to wake it up.”

“How do we do that?” David asked. She frowned, peering out over the edge of the boat. It was too dark to make out anything below the waterline; she couldn’t even be sure they were floating above its face.

Suddenly there was a deep rumbling sound, echoing up from somewhere below and shaking her bones. Archie jumped up onto the boat’s bow, barking loudly, and around the tiny vessel the water turned white with foam.

“I think it’s already awake!” David squeaked. He was right; suddenly Black Rock rose upwards, water cascading down its sides as more and more of it broke above the waterline. Despite the circumstances Hilda couldn’t help feeling a sense of awe as it pushed itself up, until finally its face emerged from beneath the waves.

It faced the little boat, the end of its nose looming close enough that Hilda could have reached out and touched it. Its eyes were wide and welcoming, rock crumbling as its mouth shifted into a smile. It let out another rumbling sound, one that to Hilda sounded almost like a laugh. Archie barked happily in reply.

“Hi again,” Erin said quietly, standing up. She reached out, patting the troll’s giant nose, care rising in her eyes. Its smile widened, clearly recognising its friends; it had no idea of the danger it was in, blissfully unaware that its life was now at risk.

Archie suddenly turned; Hilda felt a spike of worry as she saw his hackles raise, his whole body turning around to point back out towards shore. She followed his gaze, only to freeze at what she saw.

“They’re here,” Frida announced, worry creeping into her voice.

The dark shapes Hilda had seen before were closer now, and closing fast. Now she could see they weren’t rocks at all; in the darkness she could make out the harsh angles of fishing boats and patrol craft, their bows cutting white paths through the darkened water. Excavator buckets loomed over their decks like gaping maws, and in their shadows harpoon guns stood ready.

“They’ve turned their lights off,” Erin observed, voice quavering; her hand fell away from Black Rock’s nose, fists clenching at her sides. “But that’s dangerous!”

“They must be trying to surprise Black Rock,” David surmised. But Black Rock had clearly already seen the ships; its eyes glanced up at them, then back down at the little boat floating in front of it. Its eyes went wide, face falling, and for a horrible moment Hilda felt her insides lurch again; did it think they had lured the fleet to it?

“I think it’s worried about us,” Erin breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re right,” Frida agreed, disbelief rising in her tone. Hilda looked up; they were right; there was unmistakeable worry in those white eyes.

Black Rock let out a concerned rumble, and before anyone could think to stop it it was moving again. It drew itself up to its full height, shoulders bursting clear of the waterline. In a moment almost half of the troll was in the air, looming protectively over the tiny boat. Its growl split the night air, low and dangerous, a clear warning for the fleet to back off.

The ships answered with horn blasts, loud enough that Hilda had to cover her ears. Their lights flared; in the glow she could see sailors and Patrol officers scrambling about, readying their harpoon guns as they closed the distance. Overhead the excavators and drills started up, hydraulic arms lurching to life with a roar.

But none of that bothered Hilda as much as the sight of the Safety Patrol flagship. She could just make out the so-called ‘emergency truck’ parked on the deck behind the pilot house, the massive barrel of the Daybreaker jutting out over the ship’s roof. In its shadow Ahlberg stood at the ship’s bow, Gerda at his side.

“Hey!” Erin shouted, arms waving. But her voice was nothing against the rumbling of engines and shouted orders amid the fleet. “Over here!”

“They can’t hear you,” David said nervously, his whole body tensing up. Frida nodded.

“They haven’t noticed us at all.” There was panic in her voice; she didn’t need to speak for everyone in the boat to know why she was afraid. In the darkness of the night, shadowed by the creature they’d come to protect, their little boat was almost invisible. Hilda could just imagine them firing the cannon without ever realising there were people in the way, the thought settling like ice in her gut.

“Then we’ll have to make them notice,” she said firmly, stepping up to the side of the boat.

“But how?” Erin asked quickly, her voice rattling with worry. Hilda frowned, feeling all her certainty desert her at once; she hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Frantically she tried to think; that horrible pressure set in across her chest again, tightening with each passing moment, but still nothing was forthcoming. They hadn’t brought the lantern from the dock, they couldn’t hope to shout over all that engine noise, and it was far too dark for them to be seen otherwise.

She felt her heart pounding as the sound of boats got nearer, the fleet closing the distance. Black Rock let out a worried grumble, glancing down at the boat, then looked up and gave another warning growl. There was something reluctant in its voice, she couldn’t help thinking, before she dragged her train of thought back over to finding a solution.

Suddenly it clicked; she knew exactly how to get their attention. She reached back and grabbed Frida by the hand, pulling her up to the edge of the boat beside her.

“Hilda?” she squeaked. Hilda turned to meet her gaze, feeling pride and determination smother some of the horrible uncertainties inside.

“I know how to get their attention,” she said quickly. “You need to use your magic! It doesn’t matter what spell; pump raw magical energy into me if you can. That’s all we need.”

“And how will that help?” Frida asked dubiously, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Hilda opened her mouth to explain, but another voice cut her off.

“Your hair!” Erin near-shouted, eyes going wide.

“What?”

“No time to explain,” Hilda said firmly, giving the young witch’s hand a squeeze. “Just do it.”

Frida hesitated for a second, then nodded, trusting her familiar. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath, and suddenly Hilda felt a strange sensation filling her core. It was warm and welcoming, the pressure on her chest fading as the feeling rose up through her. She felt like she was in a warm embrace, comfortable and safe and inexplicably loved.

She barely noticed her hair light up, the blue glow brightening as Frida’s hand gently squeezed her own. For a moment, their familiar bond was made manifest, shining for all to see, and nothing else mattered.

Distant shouting broke through the quiet of the night. Spotlights swept over the boat; Hilda shut her eyes.

“Hold your fire!” a familiar, accented voice roared. “Those are children!”

Hilda blinked, her dazzled eyes adjusting to the sudden light. She could see the fleet had come to a halt in a rough semicircle, close enough that she could make out the frantic conversations on their decks. It felt like every eye was on her, worry, fear, confusion, and irritation flashing across various faces as they took in the scene.

Frida seemed to sense her nerves, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. But it did little to dull Hilda’s concerns, her fears reasserting themselves now that the feeling of magical warmth was gone.

“Erin!”

Everyone looked up at once; Captain Pike had emerged from the pilot house of her ship, her face set with terror for her daughter. As they watched she hurried down the deck, passing the excavator she had brought and coming to a halt right on the bow.

“Erin, get away from that thing!” she ordered. Erin withered under her gaze, taking a half-step back in the narrow confines of the boat.

“Deputy Gerda,” Erik cut in, his voice echoing loud over the fleet, “why aren’t we firing?!”

“Don’t you dare!” Captain Pike rounded on him, fury and fear rising in equal measure. “My daughter’s out there!” She threw an arm out towards Black Rock, her coat flying out around her.

“She is right, sir,” Gerda Gustav put in firmly. “If we use the emergency truck now, we risk hitting them with the beam. Not to mention the rock itself might come down on top of them.”

Hilda shivered at the thought; being crushed by falling rocks didn’t really worry her, but the vision of Black Rock, a living, feeling creature that considered her a friend, being instantly reduced to rubble was a terrifying one. Thankfully, Erik seemed to understand the danger, if for the wrong reasons, and he didn’t try and argue with Gerda.

Erin’s mother shot him a glare, then turned back to the kids. Her expression softened a little, desperation rising.

“Erin, listen to me,” she ordered, pain creeping into her voice. “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but you and your friends are all in serious danger. That’s a troll; it’s not your friend and it will try and hurt you if it gets the chance. You need to get away from it, now.”

Hilda looked over at Erin, feeling hurt and anger rise inside. The white-haired girl was frozen, her limbs tense and her mackintosh rising and falling with deep breaths, conflict swirling in her eyes. She clearly wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed lodged in her throat; Hilda felt a pang of sympathy at the thought.

She reached out, her free hand taking one of Erin’s and giving it a squeeze. The other girl looked over, meeting Hilda’s gaze, and the blue-haired girl felt a fresh surge of warmth, that strange feeling joining the cacophony in her chest again, as she saw hope and reassurance bloom in Erin’s eyes. They shared a nod; no words needed to be said for Erin to know her friends were behind her.

“No!” she shouted suddenly, voice cracking. “You need to listen to me for once!”

The yell echoed out over the water; Captain Pike seemed to lock up, her expression softening even as her whole body tensed. On the other ships the harbourfolk stopped dead, all eyes turning to the girl in the yellow coat. Even Black Rock looked worried, its gaze shifting down and up again with a rumble.

A moment of silence passed before Erin started speaking again, her grip on Hilda’s hand tightening. “You’re all so scared of Black Rock that you can’t see what it really is! It doesn’t want to hurt anyone; it was only moving around so much because Ahlberg put a bell in the harbour that hurt it. The only reason it hasn’t run away right now is because it thinks you’re a danger to us!”

“Erin…” Captain Pike faltered, what might just have been understanding rising in her eyes.

“Mum, I know you’re worried about me,” Erin started welling up, even as more words spilled forth, “but this time you need to listen. Not everything wants to hurt us; there are all kinds of creatures who just want to go about their lives the same way we do.”

The silence settled again, broken only by the lapping of waves and the blowing of the evening wind. Erin sniffled quietly but didn’t break; Hilda squeezed her hand again, feeling a pang of sympathy at her words. And for a moment she dared to hope that she had gotten through, that this could all be resolved then and there.

Erin’s mother’s mouth hung half-open. She looked up at Black Rock, then down at her daughter. She let out a long breath, then opened her mouth to speak.

“Nonsense!” Erik Ahlberg suddenly roared, stealing whatever words she had wanted to say. “That thing is a troll; of course it wants to hurt you; they all do. They aren’t capable of caring about anything other than themselves. All of them are just waiting for an opportunity to break down our walls and destroy everything we’ve built!” His eyes narrowed; Hilda felt her anger rising again.

“They already have that opportunity and they’ve chosen not to take it!” Frida cut in before she could, throwing her free hand up in frustration. For a brief moment Erik’s eyes bulged, a ripple of fresh worry spreading through the fleet. But then he frowned again, fists coming to rest against his waist.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Trolberg has always been safe from their kind; no troll is ever getting through that wall.”

“You don’t understand!” Suddenly Hilda found the words, stamping a foot against the boards of the boat. “It’s not about the wall. Black Rock has a mother, a troll the size of a giant, and she’s lying down underneath the city. She could sit up at any moment and destroy everything, but she chooses not to, and she won’t unless you keep trying to slay her children for your own glory!"

Terrified murmurs rang out between the fleet, the sailors’ resolves crumbling. Even some of the Safety Patrol officers hesitated; Gerda Gustav was white as a sheet, her expression twisted in horror. Erin’s mum had a similar look on her face, the reality of what she had nearly done seeming to finally set in.

“I tried to tell you, mum,” Erin said suddenly, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her free hand, “but you wouldn’t listen.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Ahlberg countered furiously. He stepped up to the bow of his ship, pointing a finger accusingly at Erin, his tone turning mocking. “Let me guess, your troll ‘friend’ told you all about its mummy?”

The white-haired girl withered again, grasping at Hilda’s hand for support. Captain Pike glared furiously at him, but Frida spoke up before she could rebuff him.

“No,” she explained firmly, “I saw it.” Her hand slipped from Hilda’s grasp; before the blue-haired girl could ask what she was doing she crossed to the other side of the boat, reaching out and pressing one hand to Black Rock’s side. “And I can show you, too.”

She reached into her hoodie, pulling out her wand and holding it aloft. Hilda met her gaze, suddenly understanding, and gave her a reassuring smile as she took a deep breath. Above, Black Rock gave a rumble, looking down as best it could; it seemed to understand what was about to happen.

“Projicera minnen,” Frida muttered, closing her eyes. Her hand lit up blue; so did the tip of her wand, and after a moment Hilda’s hair and Black Rock’s eyes were faintly glowing too. The blue-haired girl could practically feel the magic rolling off her, her and Erin stepping back beside David as their friend concentrated.

Light exploded from the tip of her wand, expanding out into a shimmering disc of blue-white that floated high above the boat. Craning her neck, Hilda could just make out the surface of it, and as she watched the glowing surface gave way to images outlined in darker blue.

She could make out a city carved from mismatched stones, a strange imitation of Trolberg. Tiny trolls with jagged teeth and glowing eyes scurried about, acting out what humanity must have looked like from a distance. But as she watched they suddenly all froze, looking around in panic.

The ground underneath them began to shake, cracks spreading throughout the city’s dirt roads. The vision pulled back, showing the city’s strange towers begin to rattle and wobble as the ground underneath them shook. Suddenly it bulged, the earth cracking and breaking, and as she watched the entire city centre rose up and overturned, stone buildings smashed to gravel.

A huge shadow pushed it up; not the shadow of a troll, but a human, one with familiar curly hair and a long, rounded face. Even in silhouette, behind the screen of the vision, Hilda recognised her own mother rising from below. Everyone had to be seeing their own, she realised; Frida’s magic was drawing from each of their memories in turn.

The image froze, then faded, the glowing disk fracturing into glowing shards that floated away in the evening air. Frida’s eyes blinked open, and the blue glow faded. Silence returned in its wake. If the last one had been quiet, this was on a whole other level; the fisherfolk had shut down their engines, their voices had deserted them, and even the sea seemed to be waiting in awe.

Maybe it was the quiet that had drawn them up, or the glow, but suddenly the calm waters were teeming with multicoloured fish. All of the creatures that called Black Rock home swam up around its waist, drifting between the nearer boats. Hilda felt her heart soar at the sight, and as she looked up at the harbourfolk she could see that they had gotten through.

“We did it,” Frida breathed. From behind, Hilda heard David suppress a chuckle.

“Nope, you did it,” he said fondly, “you and Erin.” Frida didn’t argue with that.

Hilda felt her hand slip back into her own, the young witch rejoining her friends. Hilda’s heart fluttered like never before at that; she squeezed both Frida and Erin’s hands and feeling them both return the gesture. David stood just beside them, a smile on his own face and hope in his eyes, fears smothered.

“This is nonsense!” Erik Ahlberg’s spluttering voice shattered the moment. He looked frantically around. “Don’t you fall for this!” But his cries fell on deaf ears, and he turned back to glare down at the little boat that had ruined all his plans. “I- I’ll have you all arrested for witchcraft! Deputy Gerda, ready the damn Daybreaker!”

Hilda felt her stomach lurch as he tried to run past the patrol boat’s pilot house. Captain Pike’s hands stole to her shotgun, but her fears were unfounded; Gerda stepped into his path, her eyes narrowing, another officer falling in behind her.

“Deputy Gerda, let me through!” he bellowed. But she had reached her breaking point; she stood her ground, hands on her hips.

“I cannot, sir,” she said bluntly.

“That is an order, deputy!” he roared, stamping a foot like a petulant toddler. “What gives you the right to stand in my way?!”

She took a deep, frustrated breath. “My duty to this city, sir,” she explained coldly. “As Associate Deputy Officer of the Safety Patrol, my responsibility is to ensure the safety of everyone in Trolberg.” She met his gaze, unswayed by his anger. “And right now, the greatest threat to public safety is you.”

He went red with fury; for a moment it looked like he might try and shove past, make a desperate bid for the cannon controls anyway. But he never got the chance; overhead, Black Rock let out a warning growl, and as everyone watched it brought one massive hand gently down towards the ship. Its reach was so long that it didn’t even need to move, the shadow of its arm falling over Erin’s boat.

“Look out sir!” Gerda called, but Erik paid her no mind. She could only watch as Black Rock’s giant fingers pinched his cape; he realised his mistake a moment too late, eyes going wide as he was suddenly lifted clean off the deck and into the air

“Put me down, beast!” he ordered, trying and failing to hide the sudden fear in his voice. Hilda couldn’t help smiling at his predicament, knowing the troll had no intention of hurting him. It just eyed him dubiously and let out a rumble that sounded like it might just have been a mocking growl. Erik squirmed in its grasp, too angry to even think of unclasping his cape.

“I said put me down!” he ranted. “Do you know who I am? I’m Erik Ahlberg, descendant of Edmund ‘the Trollslayer’ Ahlberg and head of Trolberg Safety Patrol! I’ll eradicate your entire species, monster!”

Black Rock looked thoroughly unimpressed, but it obliged. With more care than Hilda honestly thought he deserved it lowered him down, depositing him on the deck of the Lady Idra beside where Erin’s mother still stood.

“You!” he fumed as Black Rock withdrew its hand, its arm settling back at its side. He sighed furiously, rounding on Captain Pike. “Agatha, you need to take me back to my ship this instant!”

“That’s captain to you,” she rebuffed, putting her foot down; one hand stole to the strap of her shotgun, her message clear. “You’re not going anywhere: my ship, my rules, Ahlberg. And I’m with your deputy; we should never have let things get this far.”

He finally seemed to realise he was beaten, looking around helplessly. The harbourfolk frowned at him; the officers on the other patrol boats shook their heads. Gerda had drawn a line in the sand, and they all stood on her side of it. Even they could see the need to protect the city.

His shoulders slumped and he fell back against the side of the boat, sitting down to sulk. Black Rock let out a laugh at that, a deep, throaty, friendly thing, and at the sound Hilda broke into a grin. She felt her uncertainties all melting away, a shared warmth spreading between her and her friends; it was over.

The only one not smiling was Erin. She stepped up to the side of the boat again, looking out across the narrow stretch of water to where her mother stood. She didn’t need to say anything for Hilda to know what she wanted; those two had a conversation still to have, a new understanding to be found.

Suddenly the boat rumbled under them. Archie yapped excitedly and David yelped as their tiny craft rose out of the water; one of Black Rock’s hands was beneath their keel, gently cradling their vessel and carrying it over to the fleet. Looking back, Hilda could see understanding in the troll’s eyes, a small smile on its face as it held their boat up so they were level with the Lady Idra’s deck.

Archie leapt across with an excited yelp, running over and circling around his master’s feet. The kids followed, Hilda still hand-in-hand with Frida and Erin as they crossed to sturdier wood. Erin tensed a little under her mother’s gaze, even as care and regret shone in her mother’s eyes, and gingerly she pulled her hand out of Hilda’s grip.

“Hey, mum,” she began quietly, stepping forwards. Her mother knelt down, bringing their gazes level.

“Oh Erin.” Her mother reached out, gently cupping one side of her face, “I’m…" she trailed off, letting out regretful sigh, "sorry I didn't listen to you before. I thought I was doing what was best for the harbour, for you, and that I had to protect you from everything.” She looked down, her gaze falling onto the damp deck. "But I was wrong, and I'm so proud of you for showing me that."

Erin sniffled loudly, fighting back tears as she leaned into her mother’s touch. There were clearly so many things she wanted to say, thoughts tumbling through her mind, but she couldn’t get them out. So instead she just reached out, almost throwing herself against her mother’s front. The woman brought her arms in, hugging her tightly.

“So, things are going to be different from now on,” she said softly, running one hand through her daughter’s white hair. “And I mean it, Erin.” The girl broke down quietly, breaking into sniffles and sobs like there was nobody watching.

Hilda watched quietly as Erin’s mother comforted her, her own eyes dampening as her daughter let out everything she had been bottling up. They stayed like that for a moment, just the two of them in a sea of emotion, nothing else mattering.

Finally they parted; Erin stepped back slowly, wiping her eyes as her mother rose to her feet. Archie stepped between them, leaning down and letting Erin pet his head.

“So,” Captain Pike breathed, fondness replacing the pain in her voice, “going forwards, I want you to tell me if you ever feel like I’m ignoring you; I’ll always try and be there for you if you need me. And if you want to come out to sea with me, you can.”

“Thanks, mum,” her daughter replied. She looked back, her smile broadening as her gaze passed over her friends, and Hilda felt a swelling of warmth at the relief and affection in her eyes. “But I think staying on shore is going to be pretty fun from now on.” Hilda’s heart soared at that.

Chapter Text

The trip back to the harbour was spent in comfortable silence. Black Rock had waved them off as the fleet turned away, its crews sobered. Ahlberg sulked the whole way home, ignoring everyone; Captain Pike had made it very clear she intended to go to the city council over his actions, and it seemed unlikely she would be the only one.

By the time they reached the dockside, Hilda’s joy at saving Black Rock had faded. She knew she should have been happy; her friends were, and she did her best to hide the fact that she felt differently. But she couldn’t ignore the growing pit in her stomach as the Lady Idra spluttered to a halt, bumping gently against the pier, because she knew what was coming next.

Returning to land meant facing her mum; trying to explain herself to a woman who had already made it clear that she didn’t want Hilda adventuring anymore and wasn’t willing to listen. At the very least she expected stern words, anger and disappointment brought to bear again. At worst part of her wondered if she would ever be allowed out alone again.

“Alright,” Captain Pike’s voice cut through her thoughts; the woman was standing in the doorway to the pilot house, a smile on her face, “we’re here. Everyone off.” Her expression hardened as she looked past Hilda and her friends, over to the man sulking in the corner. “That includes you, Ahlberg.”

He stepped off first; the Safety Patrol were already waiting for him, their own boat moored, and Hilda watched as a group of officers lead him away at Gerda’s command.

She went next, crossing off the ship with her friends in tow. The other boats pulled in around them as they headed down the pier, engines shutting down with a rumble. They walked on, stepping out on to the dockside; it hadn’t been long, but it felt like forever since Hilda had set foot on dry land.

“Wait,” David suddenly spoke up. She looked back; he was glancing over to one side, just along the quay. “Is that-”

“Hilda!” a familiar voice called. Hilda spun, feeling that horrible tightness clamp down on her ribcage as she saw what her friend had seen; parked just off to one side, under the awning of a shuttered bait shop, was the same yellow car that had pulled up outside Erin’s house. And in front of it, hurrying across the dockside towards her, was her mum.

She braced herself for stern words, but they never came. Johanna dropped to one knee as she reached her, reaching out and pulling the girl into a hug against the front of her coat. For a second Hilda was too surprised to react, tensing involuntarily at the touch, before her mother pulled back, hands coming to rest on Hilda’s shoulders.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, voice quavering a little. Hilda looked down, unable to meet her gaze; a lump, painful and heavy, settled in the back of her throat. “Alfur told me everything,” her mum continued quietly, “Hilda, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance to tell me what was going on.”

Part of Hilda wanted to break at that alone; why was her mum apologising? She was the one who lied, who ran off, who just couldn’t be a good person anymore. But in the same moment something bitter curled up in her gut, and before she could stop them words forced their way up her throat.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she murmured sadly. She heard Johanna’s breath hitch at that, her grip on Hilda’s shoulders tightening involuntarily.

“What do you mean?” she asked quietly. Hilda’s hands clenched into fists; she could feel her eyes stinging, everything threatening to break free at once. “Be honest with me, Hilda,” Johanna continued softly, her voice heavy with concern, “I promise I won’t be upset.”

And finally, Hilda could contain it no longer. Everything she had tried to suppress or ignore was suddenly fighting to be heard, her insides squirming with a myriad of emotions. It didn’t matter that her friends were watching, that she was still on the cold dockside, that the harbourfolk might overhear. She was too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to keep it all down anymore.

“I know you don’t want me going on adventures anymore,” she admitted. “I know I’m bad, and I keep trying your patience, and you just wish I was like other kids, but I can’t be.” She sniffled loudly, her vision blurring as tears overwhelmed her. “I can’t change who I am.”

Johanna’s arms were suddenly back around her, tighter than ever, pulling her right up against her mother’s coat. “Is that what you think?” she asked quietly, her voice cracking with pain.

And suddenly another emotion reared its ugly head. A surge of guilt ran through Hilda: guilt for saying those things, guilt for feeling that way, guilt that she had ever had those thoughts at all. But she couldn’t bring herself to lie; she murmured quietly, nodding in Johanna’s embrace.

“Hilda, I…” her mum trailed off, struggling for the right words. “I never, ever wanted you to feel that way.” Hilda felt some of the tightness loosen around her lungs; she reached up, grabbing hold of her mother’s coat and desperately returning the embrace. “I wouldn’t change you for the world, I just… I worry about you, Hilda, and sometimes that gets the better of me.”

Johanna sniffled, even as her daughter’s crying grew quiet, the pain ebbing away. “I… I haven’t been a very good mum lately, have I?”

“And I haven’t been a good daughter,” Hilda replied sadly, unable to bear hearing her mum so upset. But Johanna just tightened her grip again.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded softly. “Hilda, you’re the kindest, sweetest, bravest girl I know; you’re not a bad person, and I shouldn’t have made you feel like one for being yourself.”

“And you’re the best mum I could ask for,” Hilda insisted, sniffling away the remnants of her tears. She felt her mum relax a little at that, both untensing as they held each other. They stayed like that, just the two of them amidst the swirling feelings surrounding them, and Hilda felt the last of the horrible feelings inside fade away; finally, she could breathe again.

They parted gently, Johanna’s hands coming to rest again on her daughter’s shoulders. In her eyes Hilda could see a mix of emotions still swirling, affection tinged with guilt. She smiled back anyway.

“From now on,” Johanna began again, the last embers of pain flickering out in her voice, “you won’t have to hide things.” She looked down for a second, letting out a sigh, before her gaze turned up again. “I promise you don’t have to change; I won’t try and stop your adventures. But if you’re ever in real danger, or you need my help, or you start feeling like that again…”

“I’ll let you know,” Hilda promised. Her mum nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, and then released her grip.

As she stood up, she broke into a small, fond smile, looking over her daughter’s head. Hilda turned, following her gaze, to see her friends still standing behind her, understanding in all their eyes. Erin’s mother loomed behind them, Archie at her feet, something knowing in her gaze as her eyes met Johanna’s.

“I suppose we should start heading home,” Johanna said softly. “Does anyone need a lift?”

“I do,” Frida said quickly, stepping forwards, “please?”

“Me too,” David added a little gingerly. Johanna just smiled.

“Of course,” she replied.

Hilda felt a swelling of warmth; the weight was off her shoulders and there was something in the air, a feeling of mutual affection and companionship. After everything, it seemed today was going to end on a positive note.

“Today was really fun,” Erin spoke up; Hilda felt that strange fluttering again as their gazes met, the white-haired girl’s pale face darkening just a little in the moonlight. “I’m really glad we met; it’s nice, having real friends.”

“It sure is.” Hilda nodded in agreement; she knew just how it felt to find that for the first time. She didn’t need to look to know the others felt the same.

“So,” the white-haired girl went on, “can we hang out again tomorrow?” Hilda grinned, nodding; the others murmured in agreement. “What can we do?”

“Well,” she began, scrambling to think of adventure ideas, “I probably should pick up my bike from your house, and we need to get Twig to meet Archie…” She thought a moment longer, only to pause, a lingering pain settling back in her gut as a realisation dawned. “But it can’t be tomorrow; we can’t hang out then, because I’m still-”

“Of course you can,” Johanna cut in fondly, reassurance in her voice. Hilda looked back, feeling that feeling inside recede again; her mother winked at her, a knowing smile on her face.

“Thanks, mum,” Hilda said happily. She turned back to Erin, feeling her heart soar again. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Erin agreed. She stepped forwards, pulling her new friend into a tight hug. Hilda felt her heart skip a beat, returning the embrace even as the thrumming in her chest reached a fever pitch. And then Frida joined in, dragging David with her, all four wrapping themselves together in a bundle of affection.

They parted after a moment, falling comfortably back; Hilda couldn’t stop herself from reaching out, taking one of Erin’s hands in one of hers and one of Frida’s in the other, like she had back on the boat. She gave them both a squeeze and felt them both return it, sharing in the beautiful feeling; she wished that moment could last forever.

That night, Hilda slept soundly for the first time in a long time. She dreamed about adventures, of the sea-wind on her face, Erin and Frida and David all at her side, and her mum right behind her. She knew, after all, that she had a lot to look forwards to.