Prisma Glitterdust's Arc

Chapter 7 of 9

By the third day, Mossback bowed like water. The six trolls copied him well. But that was the trouble. They only copied him. When Prisma faced the small troll alone, the curtsy fell apart. She dipped and looked sideways for Mossback. Every troll did. They did not curtsy. They mirrored the biggest one in the room. "Feet together," Prisma told the small troll. "Now bend." The troll bent, then glanced at Mossback by the pool. He was asleep. Her knees locked. She stood there, stuck, waiting for a body that was not moving. Prisma sat on the mud-and-glitter bench. A glossy slug crossed her hand, its glitter collar catching the light. She had dressed the little thing herself, weeks ago, for company. She set it on the bench and watched it inch along, sure of itself, needing no one. She wished her students were half so certain. She left the schoolroom and walked to the old tree at the swamp's edge. Tara Deeproot had stood there longer than anyone. She answered questions if you asked them right. Prisma had passed her many times and never stopped. "Tara," Prisma said. "May I ask you something?" The bark face opened its eyes. "You may." "My students can bow. But only when a bigger troll bows first. Take him away and they freeze. How do I teach them to do it alone?" Tara was quiet a long moment. "You gave them a mirror," she said. "Now they cannot look away from it." "So I remove him?" "Remove him too soon and they fall." Tara paused. "Do not remove the mirror. Move it behind them." Prisma turned the words over. Behind them. She thanked the tree and walked back fast. In the schoolroom, she woke Mossback. "One more thing," she said. "Stand behind the row. Not in front." "Behind," he said flatly. "So they can't see me." "Yes. Bow when I count. They'll feel you move. They just won't watch you." He grunted and rolled up, careful of the mushrooms. He took his place at the back of the six. Prisma faced them alone at the front. "Feet together," she said. "On three. One. Two. Three." The trolls dipped. Behind them, Mossback dipped too, unseen. The small troll held her bend. She had no face to copy now, only the weight of him moving where she could not look. She lowered herself and held. She rose. She had done it herself. One by one, Prisma called them forward, alone, to bow with no one in sight. Each one wobbled. Each one held. Mossback stayed at the back like a wall they could not see but trusted. Prisma pressed her hands together. They could curtsy now. Not as copies. As themselves. She looked at Mossback, huge and filthy at the rear of the room, and understood he had become the quiet spine of her whole school. She could not run it without him. That thought sat heavy in her chest, warm and worrying at once.