Chapter 59
Chapter
Fifty-Nine
ALLIE
I didn’t have time to turn as a dagger slashed through the air.
“No!” I roared just as loud as the troll.
My tendrils burst out of my hands, hitting the dagger and sending it careening into a tree.
The troll shook, but then roared louder. It shook its mace in the air, aiming it straight at my head.
Not today,
My blue tendrils swirled once more, coiling around its arm.
“ Draw it to the ground, keep it still, ” I enchanted. “ Steal its roar until release .”
More blue tendrils shot out, catching his other hand and feet. As gently as possible, they drew the troll onto the snow so that it was splayed down.
It opened its mouth wider, fangs glistening in the sun, but no sound came. That seemed to scare him even more.
The silence was worse than the bellow. I knew what it was like to lose your voice when you needed it most.
The panic in its eyes twisted in my chest.
But the troll wasn’t going anywhere until I was finished with it.
Before I did, I turned. I fought against the hope flowing through my veins, almost convinced I’d been imagining the voice.
I hadn’t.
Dax stood right at the edge of the forest, giving me the weirdest look as he approached at that maddening leisurely pace of his. The snow didn’t agree with him, making him a bit unbalanced, which I knew annoyed him.
“You’re alive!” I called out.
“Of course I am.” He scoffed. “But you look like you’re trying very hard not to be. I had a clean shot.”
“The troll is hurt!”
“So, what, you want it to hurt you too so it doesn’t feel left out?”
A bubble of laughter burst from me. Out of relief, annoyance or sheer shock, I didn’t know.
But Dax was here–and it truly was Dax, because he hadn’t been here a full minute and he was already irritating me.
Gods, I’d missed him.
The troll writhed on the ground, sending snow flying into the air, drawing my attention back.
With slow, careful movements, I placed my bow and arrows on the ground, making sure he tracked my movements with its eyes.
“I have some medicine,” I said, keeping my palms raised. “I can treat your wound.”
I didn’t know if it could understand me, but at least I could try.
“Allie, you really need to stop trying to reason with beings that want to kill you,” Dax called out. “And you really need to stop stealing my weapons, that was my only dagger!”
“I can find you another dagger, we have an entire armory for you to choose from. And stop yelling, you're scaring it,” I hissed.
“Yes, how uncouth of me to scare the hulking, enormous, fanged beast that wanted to rip you to shreds. Shame on me.”
“I’ll deal with you later. Just shut up for now.”
“You’re insane.”
“I missed you, too.” I sent him a warm smile, which he mirrored. “Now stand there and let me deal with this.”
He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t changed.”
No, I had. But seeing Dax again brought back those old bad habits.
I’d deal with that later.
With hesitant steps, I approached the troll. My heart beat against my ribs, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run the other way.
But I was stubborn.
I opened my satchel and took out the tinctures I’d used on Geryll and the rest of the warriors.
“I can’t heal your wound with powers like the Commander can, but I can disinfect it,” I muttered.
I swear its eyes softened, even as he still struggled against the blue tendrils, each movement yanking on my chest.
I loosed a breath. With shaky fingers, I parted its bloody fur. My jaw clenched when I saw it.
This was too clean to have been an accident. Too precise to have been carved by a wild animal or an accident.
It looked like a human blade. A very sharp one.
Ryker’s warning whispered in my ear.
Trust nobody .
Somebody had maimed the troll.
Maybe out of self-defense.
Perhaps for a more sinister reason.
I looked the troll in its eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you tell me who did this?”
The troll didn’t move.
I swallowed my sigh. It hadn’t hurt to try.
“This is going to sting, but it helps.” I opened one of the tincture vials and let a drop trickle on my skin, hissing as if in pain to demonstrate. “Pain, but good.”
The troll’s icy eyes didn’t stray from my face, but no longer struggled against the binds.
I swallowed deeply, dabbed some of the liquid onto a piece of gauze and pressed it against the wound.
The troll whimpered, pulling on the tendrils so hard, the force of it unbalanced me.
“Shhh, shhh,” I cooed. “It’ll pass, I swear.”
Slowly, the troll stilled once more. I continued cleaning his wound, aware Dax was watching my every move. Having him by my side gave me more courage.
After the wound, I cleaned the blood from its fur. Red, just like mine. But its fur was decidedly softer than my own locks, like snow threaded in silk.
“This is all I can do,” I said, making a show of placing the vials and gauze back in the satchel, which I left by its side after I removed the palaver book.
“You can take the rest, use it later. We’ll leave and you have to leave, too.
A life for a plea. Don’t come back here, it’s dangerous for you and us. And don’t hurt anyone.”
To my shock, the troll nodded gravely.
“Damn.” Dax whistled behind me. “Sorry for calling you a beast.”
Keeping my front to the troll and gathering my bows and arrows, I stepped back and back, until I neared Dax. Then I placed a hand on his shoulder and dragged him back with me.
Only when we reached the edge of the forest again did I snap my fingers. The blue tendrils vanished.
The troll roared, but it didn’t seem menacing anymore. More like testing its throat.
My body tensed as it grabbed the fallen mace.
Instead of swinging it around, the troll let it rest by its side. Then he leaned down and took the satchel. It looked like a toy in its massive hand.
With another nod, one that spoke of a promise it couldn’t voice, it hurried in the direction opposite from the city.
I sighed in relief and swallowed deeply. I hadn’t even noticed my mouth had gone bone dry.
Dax hummed. “This wasn’t the welcome I expected, but I guess it’ll–”
I slammed into him, knocking the air out of his lungs in a surprised wheeze. He smelled of home. Of warm Aquila evenings and crisp mornings.
He was here and he was alive.
Dax returned my embrace, sighing against me. “It’s good to see you, too, Allie.”
“I thought you were dead,” I choked out, all the fear I tried to suppress boiling to the surface.
“Heavens, no. I just–”
I leaned back and pinched him. “Why did you make me worry, then?”
“Ouch.” He rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to, but I was kind of preoccupied with crossing the entire continent to find you.”
“How did you find me? How did you even get in the crater?”
“Oh, cousin.” Dax gave me that charming grin of his. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
I crossed my hands in front of my chest. “Try me.”
He reached in the pack strapped to his back. “Later. First, I have a gift for you.”
My heart soared. “Did you find the parchments?”
“Yes, all of them. But this is better, in my oh-so-humble opinion.”
“I don’t want a gift.” I huffed. “I need answers.”
“Trust me. You need this one.”
My irritation melted into disbelief as Dax pulled out the one thing I never thought I’d see again in my life.
Dax grin widened as he held it up with both hands, like the sacred object it was.
Grandpa Constantine’s missing crown.
Forged in the Ember Vale from the iron of a cannon which had once saved Aquila.
The fiercest weapon in the Protectorate.
The right I’d spent the last sixteen years earning.
“The Protectorate crown belongs to the true heir. And now that you have it, Allie, you can command the entire army and take your throne back.”