No.
The trolls were in an alliance with the vampires. She’d hand me over for sure. I wasn’t in Wolf City or the Wild Lands. I’d just landed myself square in troll territory, and with that I’d signed my own death warrant. The beautiful young woman pulled a shotgun from somewhere at her hip and held it firmly in two hands.
“Stop right there, blood sucker,” she growled, and my heart thundered in my chest. Looking above me, I saw a male vampire standing just at the edge of the red flags.
“She’s ours,” he hissed, and took a step forward.
She cocked the shotgun and he stopped.
Looking down at me with deep soulful eyes, she nodded her head to the vampire. “You with him?”
“No,” I croaked with what little energy I had left. “Help me… please.”
He lunged for me and the shotgun went off, sending a ringing sound throughout my ears. I flinched as a hole the size of a baseball appeared in his chest.
The troll leaned down and the smell of jasmine washed over me. “Your arm looks out of socket. Want me to reset it so you don’t heal wrong?” she asked, her eyes still full of concern for me. Packard and the other troll assholes at Delphi were the only interaction I’d had with her kind. I wasn’t prepared for her generosity.
I just nodded.
She stepped away for a minute and brought a wheelbarrow with her; there were a few ears of corn inside of it. “Get in. In case you pass out, I can bring you back to the house.”
I tried to stand and swayed as she swooped in. “Poor thing. What did they do to you?” She clicked her tongue as she inspected my bleeding cuffs. I helped her as best I could, but it was painful to move. Dropping me slowly into the wheelbarrow, she inspected my arm, shaking her head as she squeezed the shoulder blade and I whimpered. Reaching out, she grabbed one of the pieces of corn and shoved it in my mouth.
“Ready?”
Fuck no.
I just nodded. Knowing that if this didn’t set right and healed wrong, I could be permanently maimed. Good thing my cuffs kept that from happening anytime soon. She pressed her left hand on my shoulder and grabbed my elbow with her right. The mere act of grasping it lightly caused a whimper to rip from my throat.
“One,” she said, and yanked so hard I screamed into the corn and bit down as blackness finally took me into its sweet embrace.
The soundof a woman softly humming filtered through my ears and into my brain.
“Rosedaaaaaale,” she sang sweetly. “The place where flowers grooooow.” Her voice was melodic and soothing, “Rosedale, the land of fertile grooooound.”
I popped my eyelids open and recognized the sweet troll woman from the border.
Pushing her singing out of my mind, I grasped for that bond that kept me in touch with Sawyer.
‘Sawyer? I’m in Troll Village!’I tried, and whimpered when the cuffs lit up my arms in excruciating pain, frying the tender skin there.
There was no reply and now that I focused on it… I felt… nothing. I couldn’t feel him like I normally could. His essence, once so tightly woven to mine, was… severed.
The woman’s singing cut off as she walked over to me, eyes wide in alarm. She’d tied my shoulder up in a leather sling and had laid me in a handmade cotton bed. Dark rough logs were stacked high to make the walls; packed dry mud filled the gaps. A kerosene lamp hanging on a hook illuminated the polished dark wood floor, and everything from the muted woven rug to the carved nightstand looked handmade. It was simple yet clean and homely. I was lying on a makeshift mattress in the corner of an open living room. The fireplace at the far wall held a pot inside as orange flames licked at the edges.
“You thirsty?” The woman came over, carrying a stainless-steel cup of water.
At the mere mention of water, my tongue felt swollen and dry. She held the cup to my lips and I chugged half the thing in one swallow.
“Thank you,” I panted as she reached underneath me and heaved me into a sitting position, resting my back against the wall and shoving a pillow under it to make me comfortable.
The jasmine flower she wore behind her ear caused the scent to wash over me. I noticed she looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. When she pulled back to hand me some more water, I laced my fingers over hers and stilled the cup mid-air. “Thank you. You saved my life.” My voice cracked and she nodded. Even for being in her early twenties there was a hardness to her. She was beautiful, but tough times had not left her unmarred. My gaze ran over her soft caramel skin to the two tiny tusks that protruded out of her cheeks. Her honey-brown eyes were almond shaped and her thick, silky hair made me envious. I never thought I would think a troll was beautiful, but she was.
“They’re monsters,” she said, and something dark flashed across her face. I wondered if she’d had a personal run in with a vampire, one like mine. “And us women gotta stick together.”
That brought a smile to my lips. No matter our race or differences, she only saw the commonality. “What’s your name?” I asked, taking the water and helping myself to another mouthful as she fussed about me, checking my shoulder injury.
She smiled. “Marmal.”
