Chapter 51
Allie
The wind carried the metallic scent of blood, enveloping us in it. Maybe another small grace from the crater, so the troll couldn’t smell my fear.
Skin crawling from my stillness in the face of obvious danger, I waited.
I couldn’t speak their tongue and they couldn’t speak mine. Yet here we were, trying to communicate.
Grandpa Constantine had taught me to always let the other party start the negotiation. It was a good way to gauge their real intentions, right from the first word. \
But no words flowed here.
The troll sized me up in the same way I did. Hunters, the both of us–and we had only those skills and instincts to rely on now.
Unarmed, in a seated position, in front of a being that could end me in one breath.
It’ll have to do.
I rolled my shoulders back, looking up at the troll as if I didn’t care about all of my disadvantages. Confidence, even forced one, was a great asset.
The troll finally moved its head, looking at the remnants of battle and the Northern lives we’d taken. Then his dark gaze moved toward the rim of the crater, where a lone line of rope dangled in the wind.
I nodded and made a climbing motion, my hands too jittery for my liking.
Stop it. You were raised for this.
Dax was right.
I had been.
A long, calming breath later, I let my training take over my nerves, like it had in battle. This wasn’t some war room or some gilded court, but the principles were the same.
The troll huffed through his nostrils and made a gargling sound. Warm, earthy air hit my forehead, the sensation crawling down my spine. Behind me, Dax shifted.
The first line of trolls parted, and a dozen of them stepped forward, carrying armloads of weapons, armors, and shields, all of them with the same scale pattern, all of them bloody.
I inhaled sharply, stomach dropping.
Xamor knew what they’d done to the soldiers’ bodies.
They threw the weapons onto the ground, the rattle thrumming through me.
The troll bared his teeth, further exposing his fangs.
My eyes widened with terror.
More Northerners had attacked–but when?
If the trolls had faced them on this very day, it meant we were dealing with waves upon waves we were not prepared for and couldn’t possibly face.
How could I express the concept of today?
I flexed my fingers, as if I could yank the answer out of thin air.
I pointed at the rope, the bodies, then at the sun, barely peeking out from the clouds. I let my hand fall down the horizon, and looked questioningly at their leader, hoping it would be enough to convey the question.
The creature huffed once more.
More trolls came forward. More weapons clattered to the ground.
The blood on these was caked, almost brown. Old, maybe a week.
But that sight wasn’t the one which pierced my chest. Among the human swords and shields were smaller clubs. Big enough that even our burliest warriors would have trouble raising them to strike–but small enough for a young troll to carry. A training weapon, flecked with blood.
There had been an ambush.
My hand flew to my mouth. The troll grunted at me–in warning or understanding, the roar in my veins couldn’t tell.
The trolls threw their heads back and roared once more. This time it sounded sorrowful and vengeful.
Whispers resounded from my warriors. Some were shocked, others bitter, but none as merciful as I would have wanted.
Lips parted, I gazed up at their leader, whose face had turned more pinched and sullen.
“I’m sorry,” I said and placed my hand on my heart.
Sorrow was the same, no matter the species. Wolves howled and ravens gathered around their fallen brethren, too.
Their leader raised its hand and pushed its long fur to the side, wincing. There, on its chest, was a jagged slash which hadn’t yet scarred over. Its blue face tightened the longer I stared at the wound, breaths turning shallow. It didn’t like showing his weaknesses any more than I did.
The troll inclined its head once more, before another dozen trolls stepped forward, having hidden behind the ranks until now. Some limped, one had an ear cut off, one carried a gash instead of his eye, same as Vylkor.
We were all hunted.
Horror constricted my chest.
Two attacks we hadn’t even known about.
If Sylvester hadn’t alerted me at the right time, we would have remained dangerously ignorant.
I clenched my jaw and looked at the troll I’d healed. I traced my finger on my thigh, in the same place it had been wounded, pointed at the bloody Northern weapons, and then raised my brow, half-dreading the answer.
Had it come to the city to warn us and I’d scared it off?
It huffed, which I was quickly learning meant no. Then it raised its head in the air, locking eyes with my group, and sniffed deeply, nostrils flaring. I held my breath as the pressing seconds ticked by.
Finally, it huffed once more, and I let out a small sigh of relief. But then it looked in the direction of the city and grunted, top lip curling.
This wasn’t any better.
Someone in the city had wounded it–but nobody had sounded an alarm that a troll had approached us.
Nobody had wanted us to know.
Why?
The animosity and avoidance between the trolls and Solkar’s Reach was legendary at this point, but the civilians were principled. It didn’t make any sense.
Nor did these attacks.
The Northerners we’d faced had been trained, but hadn’t seemed seasoned.
I licked my teeth.
Three waves of attacks, all inconspicuous.
“Dax,” I called out, eyes fixed on the troll. “What do these attacks look like to your trained eye?”
He clicked his tongue. “Tests.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Sword fodder, meant to infiltrate and report back.
“This is only the start,” I murmured, the horrible realization rushing through me.
I looked at the crater’s wall. I was sure the trolls had many more hideouts and they probably knew this land better than the people in Solkar’s Reach, but their numbers didn’t help.
Less than three hundred of them stared at us.
Their old and young were probably hidden away, but couldn’t amount to more than double that.
They would be no match if the Northern Clans, left undisturbed and unchallenged for so long, prepared a full-blown invasion.
We wouldn’t either.
Our best warriors were fighting a war we couldn’t lose.
Our rim scouts, if any of them had survived, were obviously overwhelmed by the sheer size of the terrain they had to patrol.
If the crater’s defenses had fallen so badly that soldiers could simply drop on our heads, Solkar’s Reach had just become one of the most dangerous places in Malhaven–and I was trapped inside of it.
I stared up at the troll, this leader who’d gone into battle for its own and this land, instead of walling himself away. Silas could learn from its ways.
The truth of this whole interaction dawned on me.
If they’d simply wanted to warn us of the attacks, they would’ve shown the weapons, not their wounds.
This wasn’t a warning.
It was a cry for help–and I would answer it.
No doubts swam in my mind as I slowly raised my right hand toward its chest, though every muscle in my body tensed on instinct.
I didn’t miss the way it bristled. Its top lip even curled before it regained control. But those fangs on full display made my hand shake. Still, I raised it further, barely touching the soft fur over the wound.
I gulped and looked up at the hanging rope, huffing as loud as I could.
I used my other hand to trace along the shallow cuts on my knuckles, huffing at the pile of weapons.
Alone, we’re targets.
I looked in the direction of the city, trying my best to mimic their grunt, ribs and throat hurting from the exertion.
Together, we’re stronger.
Time stretched as the troll kept looking at me. I swallowed thickly. My hands trembled. Perhaps I hadn’t conveyed the message clearly enough.
As I wracked my brain to come up with another way to communicate, the troll covered my hand with its large ones. It was my turn to stiffen and fight my own reflexes as its hand cupped my entire head. All of my blood rushed into my skull, skin crawling with goosebumps.
One snap, and I’d be gone.
But I knew, staring into its dark eyes, that I was in no danger.
These were two leaders making a decision which could save or damn them–and their own.
We both understood the risk.
We both accepted it.
Finally, it threw its head back, and let out a great big roar that made me wince as it vibrated from the creature’s chest into me.
I mirrored the movements, looking up at the hazy sky, and yelled until my throat hurt.
I’d howled for the people of Solkar’s Reach.
Now I roared for its trolls.
The wind mellowed as we parted, as if the crater itself had been appeased by our choice.
After everything that had happened, it felt more like a bad omen.
We both got up, inclined our heads, and turned to each of our groups.
“What did you just do?” Dax asked, dumbstruck.
“What’s right.” I patted the snow off me in quick, precise movements, not wavering for a second as I looked at my shocked warriors. “They’re coming home with us.”