Ice Shards - By Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,14
fear. She is a mournful thing, a powerful spirit who plays on emotion and leads travelers astray to their deaths. Hearkening them to give up all hope, they drop into a melancholy catatonia and die of hypothermia.”
“These woods are truly cursed,” Smoky said in a low voice. “Even dragon-folk tend to avoid them. Come, we have a long way to go and there are dangers ahead.”
As I let out a long breath, shaking my head again to clear my thoughts, a low growl caught my attention. The others heard it, too, that much I could tell, and we immediately formed a circle with our backs to one another.
“Your people?” Camille asked Howl.
“No, not my people. They would never dare growl at my friends. No, I’m afraid we’re going to be facing a bloodier pack than mine.” He unsheathed a long knife with a bone fang for a blade.
“Trolls,” I said. “I recognize the cadence. I’ll bet you anything we’ve got troll blood following us.”
“Oh fuck.” Camille had fought trolls before.
She cleared her throat as Rozurial pulled out a blade and Smoky cracked his knuckles, his fingernails growing into long talons. I took out my Aqualine Crystal wand that I’d made, but then it hit me. My specialty was mist and snow magic, but that wasn’t going to cut it here. The creatures who lived in these climes were used to snow and ice. My spells would be useless on them.
Slowly, I put the wand away and pulled out a dagger I’d had made for the journey. I’d asked Carter, the half-demon, half-Titan researcher we knew, to enchant it with fire, and he’d put a flame on it all right.
As we waited, the growls continued, and then out of the wood stepped dark shadows against the snow.
Trolls. Just as I thought. Two of them. The only saving grace we had was that they weren’t dubba-trolls but mountain trolls instead. Dubba-trolls were two-headed and hard as hell to kill. Mountain trolls were still hard as hell to kill, but at least they only had one head per body.
“Trolls,” I whispered. “May I suggest we make quick work of them? We’ve a long way to go and the sooner they’re dead meat, the sooner we can move on.” There was no question but that we’d have to kill them. Trolls weren’t the type to respond if we asked, Pretty please, could you not bother us.
Camille began prepping what sounded suspiciously like one of her Moon magic spells and I took a healthy step away from her side. Camille’s Moon magic often backfired and it wasn’t a good idea to be too near when that happened.
Smoky let out a loud growl. “I don’t have enough room here to shift into dragon form.”
Howl shook his head. “There are only two. We can fight them. And remember: Fire will disrupt them faster than anything else.” He raised his bone knife and pulled out a bottle, sprinkling the blade with some sort of oil that smelled suspiciously like oranges. The next moment, he lit the blade and it burned brightly with a steady flame.
The trolls took a step back, staring at the flaming blade. Then they began to come at us, one from the right, one from the left, attempting to avoid Howl and his crackling sword.
“Here, we’ll see how they like my kind of toy,” Roz said, reaching inside his duster. The man carried an armory in there, reminding me of nothing quite so much as a weaponcrazed flasher or Neo from The Matrix. Only with Rozurial, a good share of the weapons he carried were magical. He did have a miniature Uzi, but kept it for special times.
Roz pulled out a little round ball that was as red as Camille’s lipstick. Oh hell, I knew what that was. Firebomb! I quickly backed up as he tugged on the wick and threw it.
The bomb landed near one of the trolls, who apparently had never seen one before and decided to pick it up. The troll, a seven-foot-tall warty gray skin-bag turned the ball over in his hand and promptly popped it in his mouth.
“Fire in the hole—literally!” Roz shouted and we all turned away to shield our eyes as an explosion rocked the area.
The troll stood there for a second, registering what happened, and then let out a scream of pain that ricocheted through woodland. It charged forward, unsteadily, arms waving like two giant sledgehammers.
“Watch out—it’s wounded and dangerous!” As I shifted to one side, trying