A low growl sounded from one side of the clearing.
“That way,” Laurel said, pointing away from the sound. But even as she pointed, another growl sounded from the other side. They spun again, only to be confronted by the shadowy silhouette of a third troll, his warm breath steamy in the brisk autumn air.
David pulled Laurel back against his chest, crushing her blossom painfully between them. They tried to keep their eyes on the trolls as they circled, but the creatures were too fast, whirling around, then switching directions and spinning the other way, circling them like sharks.
The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air, and the flash of a knife glinted in the moonlight. Laurel felt David’s breath catch in his chest.
David squeezed Laurel in a quick hug, then stepped away with his hands raised. “I give up,” he called loudly. “Take me and let her go. She’s harmless.”
Laurel gasped and grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to pull him back, but he continued walking forward.
Raucous laughter filled the air. “Harmless?” a harsh, gravelly voice said. “How stupid do you think we are, human? If anyone is going to live tonight, it is not going to be her.”
Before David could get back to Laurel, two trolls stepped between them. One was taller than David, his broad shoulders straining his faded coveralls. The other was hunchbacked, her hair long and stringy, and even in the moonlight Laurel could see that her bone-white skin was cracked and bleeding at the joints. Laurel forced herself not to squeeze her eyes shut as the tall troll closed in on her, knife raised.
FIFTEEN
LAUREL COVERED HER HEAD WITH HER ARMS AND wished that David would run—save himself—even though she knew he wouldn’t. Then a loud clang reverberated in her ears and it took a few seconds for her to realize she was still alive.
The trolls were shouting and grunting as they looked around for their assailant. Their blades had been knocked to the ground by a strange-looking metal disc, now buried in the trunk of the tree right behind Laurel, a scant six inches above her head. Laurel’s whole body shook with relief and for the first time in her life she thought she might faint—but the danger wasn’t over yet. Taking advantage of the trolls’ momentary distraction, Laurel dropped to her stomach and slithered toward the edge of the clearing. Something big and heavy slammed into her, carrying her away from the clearing and behind a large tree. A hand covered her mouth as she tried to scream.
“It’s me,” David hissed into her ear.
David. He was alive, too. Her arms wrapped around him, her ear close against his chest, where she could hear his heart racing in loud thumps. It was a beautiful sound. “Do you think we can sneak away?” Laurel asked as quietly as she could.
“I don’t know. We have to wait for a good chance or they’ll just catch us again.”
Laurel had an iron grip on David’s arm as the trolls started moving in their direction, noses aloft. Laurel heard a hollow click and, before she could even guess what it was, David’s hand came down hard on the top of her head, forcing her to the ground, where he settled in beside her. No sooner had her belly hit the dirt than a volley of gunfire filled the forest with its sharp, staccato rhythm. Laurel threw her arms over her ears and pressed her face against the damp leaves as she tried to blot out the sound of the gunshots and, with them, a flood of memories from last fall.
Pained yelps sounded between gunshots, and Laurel peeked up to see the three trolls fleeing into the forest, a hail of bullets at their backs.
“Cowards,” a woman’s voice said softly, calmly.
Laurel rose from the ground, her mouth slightly agape.
“You can come out now,” the dark form said, still staring after the trolls. “They won’t be back—shame I didn’t come prepared for a real chase.”
Laurel and David scrambled to their feet. Laurel pulled her blouse as securely as she could over her blossom, wincing against the pain. The heat of the moment had chased her injury from her mind; she wondered how much damage the troll had done, but an examination would have to wait. David started to step out from behind the tree, but Laurel held his hand, pulling him back.
“I won’t bite,” the woman said in a clear voice.
It was pointless, Laurel realized, to try to stay hidden. Whoever this was, she knew they were there. Laurel and David took a few tentative steps out from behind the tree to get their first good look at the woman who had saved them. She was several inches taller than Laurel, and dressed from head to toe in black, from her long-sleeved shirt and running pants to her black leather gloves and combat boots. Only the mirrored sunglasses resting casually atop her head departed from the scheme, setting off the gelled strands of auburn hair that surrounded her face and stuck up just right in the back. She looked about forty, and in excellent shape, but she wasn’t built as thickly as a troll.
“I don’t blame you for being nervous,” the woman said. “Not after what you’ve just been through, but trust me: I’m one of the good guys.” She raised her gun and performed a series of actions that made a lot of clicks before she stowed it back in a holster at her hip.
“Who are you?” Laurel asked bluntly.
The woman smiled, her white teeth bright in the moonlight. “Klea,” she said. “Klea Wilson. And you are?”
“That was…that was, wow!” David stuttered, ignoring her question. “You were amazing. I mean, you just came in and they…well, you know.”
“That way,” Laurel said, pointing away from the sound. But even as she pointed, another growl sounded from the other side. They spun again, only to be confronted by the shadowy silhouette of a third troll, his warm breath steamy in the brisk autumn air.
David pulled Laurel back against his chest, crushing her blossom painfully between them. They tried to keep their eyes on the trolls as they circled, but the creatures were too fast, whirling around, then switching directions and spinning the other way, circling them like sharks.
The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air, and the flash of a knife glinted in the moonlight. Laurel felt David’s breath catch in his chest.
David squeezed Laurel in a quick hug, then stepped away with his hands raised. “I give up,” he called loudly. “Take me and let her go. She’s harmless.”
Laurel gasped and grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to pull him back, but he continued walking forward.
Raucous laughter filled the air. “Harmless?” a harsh, gravelly voice said. “How stupid do you think we are, human? If anyone is going to live tonight, it is not going to be her.”
Before David could get back to Laurel, two trolls stepped between them. One was taller than David, his broad shoulders straining his faded coveralls. The other was hunchbacked, her hair long and stringy, and even in the moonlight Laurel could see that her bone-white skin was cracked and bleeding at the joints. Laurel forced herself not to squeeze her eyes shut as the tall troll closed in on her, knife raised.
FIFTEEN
LAUREL COVERED HER HEAD WITH HER ARMS AND wished that David would run—save himself—even though she knew he wouldn’t. Then a loud clang reverberated in her ears and it took a few seconds for her to realize she was still alive.
The trolls were shouting and grunting as they looked around for their assailant. Their blades had been knocked to the ground by a strange-looking metal disc, now buried in the trunk of the tree right behind Laurel, a scant six inches above her head. Laurel’s whole body shook with relief and for the first time in her life she thought she might faint—but the danger wasn’t over yet. Taking advantage of the trolls’ momentary distraction, Laurel dropped to her stomach and slithered toward the edge of the clearing. Something big and heavy slammed into her, carrying her away from the clearing and behind a large tree. A hand covered her mouth as she tried to scream.
“It’s me,” David hissed into her ear.
David. He was alive, too. Her arms wrapped around him, her ear close against his chest, where she could hear his heart racing in loud thumps. It was a beautiful sound. “Do you think we can sneak away?” Laurel asked as quietly as she could.
“I don’t know. We have to wait for a good chance or they’ll just catch us again.”
Laurel had an iron grip on David’s arm as the trolls started moving in their direction, noses aloft. Laurel heard a hollow click and, before she could even guess what it was, David’s hand came down hard on the top of her head, forcing her to the ground, where he settled in beside her. No sooner had her belly hit the dirt than a volley of gunfire filled the forest with its sharp, staccato rhythm. Laurel threw her arms over her ears and pressed her face against the damp leaves as she tried to blot out the sound of the gunshots and, with them, a flood of memories from last fall.
Pained yelps sounded between gunshots, and Laurel peeked up to see the three trolls fleeing into the forest, a hail of bullets at their backs.
“Cowards,” a woman’s voice said softly, calmly.
Laurel rose from the ground, her mouth slightly agape.
“You can come out now,” the dark form said, still staring after the trolls. “They won’t be back—shame I didn’t come prepared for a real chase.”
Laurel and David scrambled to their feet. Laurel pulled her blouse as securely as she could over her blossom, wincing against the pain. The heat of the moment had chased her injury from her mind; she wondered how much damage the troll had done, but an examination would have to wait. David started to step out from behind the tree, but Laurel held his hand, pulling him back.
“I won’t bite,” the woman said in a clear voice.
It was pointless, Laurel realized, to try to stay hidden. Whoever this was, she knew they were there. Laurel and David took a few tentative steps out from behind the tree to get their first good look at the woman who had saved them. She was several inches taller than Laurel, and dressed from head to toe in black, from her long-sleeved shirt and running pants to her black leather gloves and combat boots. Only the mirrored sunglasses resting casually atop her head departed from the scheme, setting off the gelled strands of auburn hair that surrounded her face and stuck up just right in the back. She looked about forty, and in excellent shape, but she wasn’t built as thickly as a troll.
“I don’t blame you for being nervous,” the woman said. “Not after what you’ve just been through, but trust me: I’m one of the good guys.” She raised her gun and performed a series of actions that made a lot of clicks before she stowed it back in a holster at her hip.
“Who are you?” Laurel asked bluntly.
The woman smiled, her white teeth bright in the moonlight. “Klea,” she said. “Klea Wilson. And you are?”
“That was…that was, wow!” David stuttered, ignoring her question. “You were amazing. I mean, you just came in and they…well, you know.”
