Captain Marson looked at me. “What kind of fight?” he asked quietly.
“Ever heard the stories of the Hulgrim?”
“Of course, but they’re just stories. Tales for children.”
I nodded. “Yeah, well, I thought that too until I was confronted by two, three years back. Still got the scars to prove it.”
I didn’t need to look at him to know that his mouth was hanging open.
“Tell them to cover their faces with their wraps, and if they don’t have any, find some. Get the mercenaries back here. If it’s two males, they’ll fight. If it’s two mates, they’ll fight. If it’s a mother and her young, she’ll?—”
“Fight. I get it.” Loel hesitated for one second. “You’re sure?”
“Should have known it was too quiet,” I grumbled as I handed over the reins of the horse. “Keep the horses at the back. They’ll want them for food.”
I saw his look of speculation.
“They’ll wantusas a snack, the horses for a meal.”
“Got it.” He was already leading the horse away, and I stood there, hearing the sounds of soldiers preparing as I scanned the land before me.
I knew we’d walked too close to them even though they were still far enough ahead. Hulgrims lived beneath the snow. Kind of. They burrowed half into the ground and half out. It was why the drifts were larger, bulkier.
They would've sensed us moving on the ground long before I realized what I was looking at.
I wasn't careless. I had only seen them once, and that was more than enough. My back still bore the three scars from their claws as I fought my way free.
That was the only time I ever used my magic against something else. But it was all I had to defend myself. It was that or lose a fight for survival.
The two merchants I had been with both died later from their wounds. Both were spice merchants, and nothing in their wagons was useful to help me heal.
That had been a tough month. I finally reached the village where my brother Derva lived. His wife had helped me heal the worst of the wounds, and I still believed she doubted that Hulgrim had mauled me.
The captain was back at my side. “What do you propose?”
I pointed toward a cluster of trees far to the east. “We head for there.”
Marson’s look was skeptical. I appreciated that he was predictable.
“We aren’t heading there,” I told him calmly. “But the arc is wide enough that if it’s a mother and her young, she may stay hidden to protect them rather than confront us.”
“And if it isn’t?”
I swallowed. “Well, let’s hope fourteen of you are better than the two that died with me last time.”
“How do they fight?” he asked me curtly.
“Claws and teeth. I think, though I’m not sure, the teeth carry a venom. An old trailfinder told me that after I fought them that one time. Never met them again to confirm.”
“So we have folklore and one encounter to go on?”
I nodded. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Half is better than nothing.” He looked me over. “You should go stay with the horses.”
I shook my head. “Can’t. I need to lead you away, and if they come out, well, I know how to run.”
He grasped my arm loosely. “Amarya?”
