Chapter 50
Allie
From the mist, they came.
Their white fur blended in with the surroundings, their blue hands and faces the same shades as the glaciers still pressing against the crater’s walls.
The perfect camouflage for this frozen land, now under attack.
“Are those…?” Dax whispered, gloves crinkling as he gripped on tighter to his daggers.
“Trolls,” I breathed out.
Larger than any human, heavily armed with their gargantuan maces, marching toward us.
The warriors tensed, raising their weapons once more. Devoid of arrows, I pulled out the dagger I kept in my boot, hand shaking.
Maybe we’d wandered too close to their lairs and they’d come to scare us away.
Had the smell of blood attracted them? The sound of clashing metal? The cries?
And if so, had they come to join the fight–or pick off the tired, wounded survivors?
Slowly, they advanced, the mist clinging to them as if it didn’t want to let them go.
Ten, twenty, dozens of them prowled closer. Despite their size, their large, flat feet left little marks on the snow, and no noise.
The people of Solkar’s Reach had learned to survive in the crater, but these magical creatures looked to have been birthed by it.
With each of their steps, my muscles tensed further, stomach sinking.
They far outnumbered us.
The warriors were in need of treatment, not another battle.
My power was almost depleted, barely sizzling inside of me.
The trolls stopped a good distance away from us, their narrow eyes watching us as suspiciously as we did them. Another advantage they had; the cold wind slid along our eyes like razorblades.
If the trolls hadn’t moved–hadn’t wanted to let themselves be known–we wouldn’t have detected them.
So why had they come out in the open?
I tightened my hunter gaze on them.
They were armed, yes, but they held their clubs loosely in their large hands, not upright to intimidate and attack.
They moved slowly. Hesitantly. They looked like the perfect predator, but didn’t have the gait of one.
I’d seen enough battles and hunts to know this wasn’t either.
The wind hissed between our two groups, as if eager for more bloodshed.
Neither of us bridged the gap, the trolls looking our way expectantly–the same way my warriors looked at me.
Waiting for a command.
One which could damn or save us.
