“I should be able to protect myself as all the other wolves can.”
“There are other ways to keep yourself safe.”
“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Don’t try to dissuade me. I’ve made up my mind.”
A heavy sigh. Then, “If you want to see the Ice-Witch, then I won’t stop you.”
“You won’t?”
“No.” He stood, his big body crowding the room. His eyes turned hard. “But I will go with you.”
Her lashes flew wide. “But... but you can’t. The Prime won’t allow it.”
“Fuck the Prime,” he replied. “I won’t leave you unprotected. Not anymore. Do you understand?”
Slowly, she nodded, hardly believing her ears.
“Good. When do we leave?”
She collected her bag and fur-lined cape. “Now.”
Chapter 4
Caraway followed Anise through the Meandering Woods. A smidge of gray sky could be seen through the tall, still wet trees from recent rain. Sticks and twigs crunched and squelched underfoot as they trekked. They’d been walking for two hours, and yet the fallen log marker was nowhere in sight.
The moment Caraway read the letter’s instructions, he’d become wary. Meet a troll at a fallen log, and then be told of the true location of the Ice-Witch? It seemed preposterous. Trolls were notorious for misdirection. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could send you on a wild wolpertinger chase just to mess with your head and then claim it was to reveal your heart’s desire. Trolls were also carnivores, and didn’t discriminate between their meat. Animal, monster, human, or fae, it was all the same to them. That Anise had planned to go there alone did not sit well with Caraway.
Doubt crept into his mind. He’d been instructed to keep the mission as reconnaissance only, but he would prepare himself for action if necessary.
“How far do we have to go?” Caraway asked.
Anise shot him a sardonic look. “Are you tired, big guy?”
He snorted. “No. I just don’t want you to be taken for a fool.”
She waved the folded letter. “This prevents that. The gully should be just up ahead.”
They cleared bracken and stepped into a ditch, boots landing in soggy leaves. A burst of woodland sprites exploded, fluttering and zipping about, cursing in their high-squeaky voices for him to watch his step. Then, as if hearing something he couldn’t, the sprites scattered to the winds.
The hairs on Caraway’s arms lifted. He checked around and looked for something... anything. Being so close to Unseelie territory, where the fae of chaos ruled, there were many dangers, not to mention mana-warped monsters.
The ditch he’d stepped into was, in fact, the gully they’d been searching for. It widened ahead and extended into the distance. More lush greenery littered the bottom.
The birds stopped chirping. The insects silenced.
Anise, not picking up the tension in the air, made a jubilant sound and pointed to a moss-covered fallen log.
“That must be it!”
A shadow emerged from behind the log. The troll, a five-foot gnarly beast, walked on two legs. Its overlong arms extended to the ground where clawed fingers scraped the dirt. His brown fuzzy hair extended from the top of his head and down to his bare back. Pointed ears twitched as his beady eyes watched them approach. Tense posture said he was not to be trifled with, and the scars over his almost naked body proved it. This troll was a survivor.
No weapons, as far as Caraway could see. The troll wore nothing but a torn, dirty loincloth and a necklace made from some sort of leathery dehydrated chunks.
When the troll darted a nervous glance to where Caraway’s hand gripped the hilt of his broadsword, Caraway’s lip curled but he released and lowered his hand to his side. No good would come of starting this with an altercation. Best to act like there was nothing to be worried about.
Caraway put his boot on a small rock and leaned casually on his knee.
Anise held up her folded letter and raised her voice. “I have an invitation to see the Ice-Witch. It says to come here and you will show me the rest of the way.”
The troll squinted at her, then at Caraway. “We don’t want no Guardians around here. We eat Guardians.”
For a moment, Caraway thought the troll was simply trying to sound threatening, but then he took a closer look at the troll’s necklace. Those leather chunks were familiar. Pointed ears. Some big, some small, and some child-sized.
Caraway’s stomach bottomed out. This troll had eaten children, and it was proud of it. Ice washed through his veins, tensing every muscle.
“Who him?” Anise laughed, pointing at Caraway. “He’s not here to cause trouble. He’s just my bodyguard for the trip. You won’t hear a peep out of him. Right, Car?”
Anise’s eyes pleaded with him, and he knew he couldn’t jeopardize this mission, not without getting instructions first. He bared his teeth in what he supposed could be called a smile, and then raised his palms to the troll in surrender.
The troll glared at Caraway’s glistening blue teardrop tattoo under his right eye—his Guardian mark—then at the sharp horns curling from the top of his head where his gaze lingered. The troll backed away. For a moment, Caraway thought he’d retreated, but then the troll tossed a glance over his shoulder and snarled to Anise, “You coming?”
A grin split her face. Elation brightened her skin. She trotted after the troll, her long dark tail swishing at her rear. It had been a while since Caraway had seen a swish in his friend’s tail, and he liked it.
He followed, but unclipped the fastening strap securing Justice to his baldric. Now if he needed to draw his magic-cutting weapon, there would be nothing hindering the release.
The troll took them to a cave entrance where bones and body parts hung on strings, curing over a smokey fire. They looked fresh. Two, three, maybe four legs which equaled two fae that had been killed and trussed up. A quick glance around the cave showed no signs of contraband, which made these deaths not Caraway’s problem.
Strange items and knick-knacks stacked in high, precarious piles were hoarded around the place, both inside and outside the cave. They were remnants of the old-time before a nuclear winter had swallowed the land and spat out a destitute, icy planet. Glancing deeper into the cave, he caught sight of a straw bed covered with a soft woolen blanket. It looked strange in a rough troll cave.
Something moved in the darkness, and his senses lit up.
Another troll?
He sniffed the air, but his senses weren’t as attuned as a wolf’s. He glanced at Anise and caught a crease between her brows. She’d smelled something she didn’t like, but shook her head and dismissed it.
The troll rifled around in a wicker basket by the cave entrance until he found a portal stone. He grunted at his find and then gestured with urgency for Anise to show him the invitation. Instead of reading it, he sniffed it.
“Yep. Smells like witch,” he muttered and then handed Anise the stone. “This will take you to her.”
Anise received the stone but slumped. “I can’t activate portal stones. Could you do it?”
The troll shook his head. “Not part of the deal. You go now. We hungry.”
“I can do it,” Caraway offered.