Shameful.
The welcoming scent of firewood began to envelop us as the city’s chimneys rose in the distance. The smoke blended with the grey sky.
With each step, my stomach sank further.
Now my name would be cursed in two Clans.
Nobody, not even Mrs. Thornbrew, would be thrilled at me bringing an entire brigade of trolls. I’d sent two men ahead of us, to clear, clean, and ready the wolf kennels near the fortress. It was the closest lodging to a cave I could give without suffocating them with the interior heat we humans needed to survive.
I didn’t want overheated trolls trying to put out fires left and right.
Plus, so near the fortress, I could keep a close eye on any altercation.
The wind stole my sigh.
Ryker would have understood. He probably would have done the same thing.
But he wasn’t here.
Still, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from floating to him, seeking comfort and reassurance when I needed them most.
At the back of my mind, I swore I could feel a strange tug. It wasn’t the same ferocious pressure trying to yank me away when Dax had arrived, but it still slithered down my spine, burning my skin.
Mercifully, a dark spot in the sky stole my attention and brought a much needed smile to my face.
Sylvester flew to greet us on his way out of the crater, his great wings facing the wind with ease.
But just as he started circling us, the trolls began to roar.
I whirled around, hand flying to my bow on instinct. The largest of them swung their clubs in the air at poor Sylvester, as if they wanted to rip him feather by feather. The warriors looked at them in horror, already gripping their swords.
“No!” I raised my hands in the air, power fizzling just under the surface. “We do not threaten Sylvester. Friend. He’s a friend!”
The trolls stopped shouting and brandishing their weapons, but looked at me with puzzled expressions.
Good gods, this was going to be hard.
I motioned to Sylvester to draw nearer, huffing at the trolls to stand still. He crowed, sounding absolutely miffed at the intruders threatening him, but flew over to me and landed on my shoulder. He croaked at them, an admonishment and a cryof triumph at the same time. He could get close and sit on my shoulder just fine, thank you.
I patted his head and nuzzled my nose in his black feathers, keeping my eyes trained on the trolls.
“Friend,” I said again. “We don’t huntanythingin the city.”
I added a grunt for good measure, hoping they got the message.
With one last nuzzle, Sylvester took off again. I watched him until his feathers blended into the sky. My stomach tightened further. It would be a long trip–but an unavoidable one.
Ryker needed to know.
When everyone seemed to quiet down, I turned around–only to be met with horrified stares.
A few of the citizens had probably seen Sylvester and had come to greet us as well, only to see a horde of angry, threatening trolls.
And I was leading them.
“Dada?” Krynn’s little girl asked, clutching her mother’s leg like it could defend her. “What are those?”
More civilians gathered, gasps erupting all around.
