I SUPPOSE IT WAS FOOLISH of me to hope that we could go on forever without encountering a troll. But I did hold that hope, and it proved to be wrong.

We were investigating yet another destroyed village. This one was only an hour’s hard ride from the sight of Kahaunga’s walls. The trolls had slain a score of people in the attack, throwing Kahaunga even deeper into panic. It was hard to tell if the trolls were growing more bloodthirsty, or if more people were dying because more people were fighting. Now that the trolls had started to kill, townsfolk were less likely to simply abandon their homes. Many fought to keep them.

Whenever they did, they lost.

We crept up on the village stealthily, though in truth we were not as cautious as we could have been. This was the eleventh village we had investigated, and we had not found trolls in any of them. So although we dismounted a good distance away and approached the village on foot, I did not range very far ahead of Mag to scout the place.

That almost proved disastrous.

Mag and I were picking our way through the buildings when we heard it: the heavy thud of a foot on stone, and a great snorting, snuffling sound. It was close—within half a span, certainly. Terror nearly stopped my heart.

“Oku, kip,” I whispered, motioning furiously to the dog as I dragged Mag out of the street and out of sight. We ducked into a half-wrecked home with a massive hole in the wall. Part of the ceiling hung down into the main room.

We waited a long moment. A sharp crack sounded not far away—a timber breaking. The troll was digging into another building, likely breaking it apart just like the one we were in now.

“They left one behind?” whispered Mag.

“Or it came back,” I whispered back. “From the reports, it sounded as though this raid was quicker than most of the others. This troll might have snuck away from the rest of its pack, hoping to find some foodstuffs the others left behind.”

“Mayhap we should ask it.”

I stared at her in horror. A smile crept across her face.

“I am joking.”

“Do not do that.”

Oku growled low in his throat.

“Kip, Oku.” He subsided, and I turned back to Mag. “We must get out of here, and as quietly as possible. It sounds as though it is a little distance off. We should be able to get away without it spotting us.”

“This could be our chance, Albern,” said Mag. “We could follow it back to the others, and from them, to the Shades.”

“We cannot risk being discovered,” I said harshly, my voice a little too loud. “You do not know these creatures, Mag.”

“The entire reason we came out here was to find trolls.” Mag pointed through the hole in the wall. “There. I have found one.”

“We came to find a trail. Letting a troll see us would be beyond foolish.”

“There have been nearly a dozen trails, and they have not led us anywhere. Now we have—”

I covered her mouth with my hand, my eyes wide. She fell silent. I swiveled back and forth, listening, while Oku quivered beside us.

“What is it?” Mag hissed, her voice muffled by my fingers.

“I do not hear the—”

THOOM

The wall on the other side of the building crashed inwards. Shards of wood and plaster showered us. A wooden beam as thick as my leg flew by, missing me by a handbreadth. The troll’s stubby fingers reached in, probing for us. It roared in fury.

“Run!” I screamed, dragging Mag out the door. “Oku, kip!”

The hound fled, yelping in panic, and we were just behind him. I heard the troll crash into the building where we had been hiding, but I dared not turn back to look. Mag’s arm was still in my clutches. But suddenly, to my horror, she yanked herself free and stopped in the middle of the street.

I skidded to a halt, and Oku did the same. My stomach did somersaults as I looked at Mag.

She had cast her cloak back and off her shoulders. In her right hand was her spear, and upon her left arm was her shield, held up in defense. The troll had stopped thundering after us, coming to a stop several paces away. It seemed more confused than anything as it glowered down at her, showing its teeth. They were mostly grey and blunt, but there were four huge tusks, two on the top and two on the bottom, that jutted from between the lips like latches holding a book closed. It regarded Mag for a long moment, heavy breaths huffing from its nostrils to steam in the frigid air.

“Greetings,” said Mag amiably. “I am Mag. We are looking for some friends of yours.”

The troll’s brows drew close. “You are human,” it said.

“And you are obviously a very bright specimen of your kind.”

“Mag, you fool!” I cried. “Do not taunt the thing. Run!”

“No, I do not think so,” said Mag, before speaking to the troll once again. “You will never have heard of me, I suspect. In many of the nine kingdoms, I am called the Uncut Lady. Though I am not one to flee from battle, I have no wish to fight you. Tell us where we can find the humans who have been working with your pack, and you and I can part as friends.”

The troll’s scowl deepened. “I am friends with no human,” it snarled.

“Except the Shades, I suppose?”

The troll roared and slammed its hands into the earth before storming towards her.

“No chance of peace, then,” said Mag. “I suspected as much.”

“Mag!”

I was too late. She crouched for a moment and then leaped, spear up and shield forwards.

The troll struck her a backhanded blow. It caught Mag from below and to the left, crashing into her shield. She sailed over the roof of a nearby building like a stone from a catapult, vanishing from sight.

The sight of it froze me in place. I had tried to tell her. I had said she could not treat the trolls like any other foe. And now one of them had dealt with her like she was no more threatening than a gnat. I prayed to the sky that she was still alive, and I could not imagine she was unhurt.

I forced my attention back to the troll. Mag would have to wait for a moment, for I could not help her if I was dead. Like Victon with the bear, I had to survive, and draw the danger away.

The troll had stopped in its advance, shoulders hunched, fists planted on the ground. Its wide, angry eyes fixed on Oku and me. The hound had sunk back on his haunches, fur bristling, a low growl in his throat. But he made no move to attack. He wanted to protect me, but I could practically feel the fear radiating from him. I tried to think of what to do.

Fire, I thought. Dark take me, I need fire.

I somehow doubted the troll would let me take out my flint and steel to start a blaze. I risked a glance around. None of the buildings showed any signs of smoke—their cooking fires and hearths would have extinguished themselves long ago.

My attention was dragged back to the troll as it took a step forwards. I raised my bow just a touch. But what good was an arrow against its hide?

Mag had tried to speak with it. But she had tried bluster. Mayhap there was another way.

“I do not wish to fight you,” I called out.

It gave a sound that was almost a grunt, but closer to a growl. “Get out of our mountains.”

“We will leave you in peace. You are welcome to the foodstuffs here.”

That was a mistake. My whole body jerked as the troll roared and slammed its fists down again. “You do not give us anything. We have taken it!”

“Of course,” I said. “I did not mean to—”

It was too late. The troll charged. I whipped my bow up and fired a shot, aiming for the eye. But it was moving too fast, and the arrow ricocheted from its stony forehead. Oku and I dived out of the way behind the corner of a building just as the troll sped by both of us, slamming its shoulder into another structure. The wooden timbers shattered under the impact, and the roof collapsed.

“Oku, kip!” I said. “Go!”

With a panicked yelp, the hound ran off and out of sight. No use in both of us dying.

I had to decide what my aim was. If Mag was still alive, she had to be hurt. Thus it seemed my best chance of accomplishing anything lay in drawing the troll away from her, and then losing it so I could swing back and find her.

Every part of me screamed in terrified protest as I turned back to the troll, who was only now emerging from the wreckage of the home it had destroyed.

“All right, then, beast,” I called out. “You want a fight? Come and get one.”

My heart skipped as it gave another wild roar. I drew and fired just before it charged. But fear made my shot go wide again, and the arrow bounced from its hide.

I turned and fled around the corner of the stone building, thinking that might give the troll pause. I was wrong. Two earth-shattering crashes shook the ground as the troll slammed through the opposite wall, and then the near one just behind me. A stone struck my shoulder, and I stumbled.

I tried desperately not to panic as I turned another corner. I could not outrun the thing, and I could not safely hide behind any of the buildings. I had to make it lose sight of me. But I was nearing the village’s edge, and soon I would be in open terrain. My mind whirled, searching for some solution.

Another turn. Another. If I could only stay out of sight a moment longer …

The wall to my left exploded outwards, flinging me through the air. I struck the wall of the building opposite and slumped to the ground.

Gasping in pain, I looked up. The troll loomed there, framed in the hole it had put in the building. Its eyes narrowed as it looked down at me, ears angled up. The earth trembled as it stalked forwards on stony fists.

The terror in my heart turned to rage. I struggled to my feet, leaving my bow where it had fallen and drawing my short sword. Sheer disbelief stopped the troll in its tracks.

“If I am to die, then I will die,” I said. “But on my feet.” In Tokana. Like my mother. Like Romil. That was a bitter thought.

The troll snorted. It took another lumbering step forwards.

There came a flash of metal to my right. Mag came rushing at the troll’s flank. Her spear leaped, the edge skittering along its stony side. It roared, turning to swipe at her. But Mag ducked with inhuman speed, and her spear slashed up again. This time the tip of it flashed dangerously close to the troll’s eye, and it reeled back in confusion.

“Your bow,” said Mag. Her voice was toneless, her eyes lifeless with her battle-trance. “That sword will do little good.”

I barely heard the words. I could only stare at her in wonder. She was covered in dirt and mud, but she was utterly unharmed. She did not limp, or hunch over like a fighter nursing a broken rib. I could not even see a bruise, though I imagined there had to be many beneath her clothes and armor.

“Mag, are you—”

“Your bow,” she snapped.

The words pierced my confusion at last. With shaking hands I stowed my sword in its scabbard and stooped for my bow, keeping watch on the troll. It was staring down at Mag, seemingly just as astounded as I was. But even as we watched, confusion turned to wrath.

“Mag—”

“Aim for the eyes,” she said, and attacked.

I was glad to see she had learned her lesson after the last time. The troll tried to bat her aside as it had before, but this time Mag ducked the swing. Her spear flashed up, and the troll recoiled as the blade passed across its cheek—not breaking the skin, but again drawing too close to the eye for comfort. 

It took two stumbling steps back, but Mag followed. She slashed again and again. The long, bladed edge of the spear could not hope to pierce the troll’s hide, but it provided an ample distraction. I reached to my quiver and drew another arrow. With Mag occupying all of the troll’s attention, I had enough time to draw, to hold, to sight along the shaft.

A long, slow breath escaped me.

I loosed.

The arrow sank into the troll’s eye, deep enough to strike the skull behind.

It screamed and stumbled back, swiping at the air as if trying to swat away a fly. Black blood dribbled down its face, staining its teeth as it bared them. Mag tried to make another strike, but its flailing arms drove her back.

Something flashed in the sun as it flew towards the troll. A glass vial struck the beast in the face, and dark, oily liquid spilled all over its body.

We froze. So did the troll. It swiped at the oil, black as its own blood, and stared at it in confusion.

“Hail, friend.”

Mag and I looked up. Standing on the roof of a nearby building was Maia, Ditra’s lead ranger. He had thrown the flask. Now he stood in an almost languid position—but he had an arrow nocked, and its tip was wrapped with a flaming rag.

The troll looked up at him, squinting with its one good eye through the oil.

“Well met,” said Maia amiably. “You are covered in flammable oil, and I have a flame to light it. I highly suggest you turn and run.”

At first the troll seemed too angry to understand, but gradually it made sense of the words. It looked down at itself, smelling the pitch that covered its body.

It looked back up, and even I could see the fear shining in its remaining eye.

The troll fled from the village, climbing over a hill and out of sight.