Wrought of Iron and Silk, Book One [2014 Watty Award Winner]

Chapter 9 - The Realm Below

Chapter 9 – The Realm Below

Tin led Cecilia down a dank corridor toward the sound of hammers venting their fury on solid rock. They descended lower and lower, Fenrir slinking now as if he were as oppressed by the weight of stone and earth above them as Cecilia was; and she could almost feel his irritated growls, although he never made a sound.

Tin said, "The trolls have not quite this shared mind that the wolves seem to possess but it is also a saying among my people that what one troll knows, all trolls know. Eventually we will not be able to proceed unnoticed no matter what we do; but in the meantime, when we encounter trolls, the more quickly they can be killed, the better." He stopped and placed his large hand on her shoulder, advising, "Never follow a running troll."

Cecilia nodded, understanding.

Suddenly Tin gripped Cecilia's hand. "I fear we've been detected," he said, turning his head. Then he froze, keeping absolutely still as stone.

"Tin," Cecilia whispered, with commendable calm, "I thought your friends decided not to kill us."

"Not friends. Trolls," Tin said. "If they can use weapons as well as we can make them, they will be terrors in a fight. And it stands to reason they'd know more about trellwarrens than we do." His meandering crook-lipped smile turned into a frown. "I have condemned you."

"I chose to be here," Cecilia hissed.

"I rolled the bones and lost." Tin smiled, and Cecilia recognized the copper and silver tracery that inlaid his teeth. "Now we must fight."

As the group pressed on with their downward descent, they encountered two solitary trolls. The first Fenrir took down almost before anyone else had seen it. Tin bowed and said, "Thank you, wolf-king."

The second turned to flee, but died on the point of Tin's spear. Fenrir and Cecilia shared a glance; it would not do to forget how horribly strong the dwarf's ropy, gnarled limbs were, no matter that Tin's head did not even come up to Cecilia's shoulder.

"Come," Tin said. "Our luck cannot run clean much longer."

Indeed, two cramped, steep switchbacks later, they came upon what was clearly a picket: six trolls. And while five stood their ground, the sixth ran, making a high-pitched ghastly ululation as it went.

"That's the alarm!" Tin said. "It is war!" And he disemboweled the two largest of trolls, while Fenrir took down the third and fourth, leaving the fifth to Cecilia.

The troll approached her treacherously. "The end is coming. Can you feel it?" Its voice – rough as an old washboard.

She forced a breath into her now tight chest. The troll cocked its head to the side as if listening to her response. Evidently, her silence wasn't going to convince it she wasn't there.

"I grow tired of playing with you." It chuckled and twisted its torso, snarling and flashing its sharp teeth. Cecilia's heart skipped a beat at the primal display. No longer the predator, she was now the prey. At least she was smart enough to realize it.

The troll's eyes flickered red in the fading light. "You are different than the others. You are female, aren't you?"

A smile curved the edge of her mouth.

The troll began to rise to its full height, all arms and legs with a compact body in between. Her eyes locked on the arms that hung just short of touching the ground. Wicked talons decorated each crooked finger.

"I was here long before the dwarves. This is my territory and everything in it belongs to me." It thrust its chin forward, daring her to argue.

Cecilia summoned her courage, attempting to keep from being overwhelmed with fear and the rush of hot wind in her face within the corridor of horrors. She needed all of her senses working if she was going to escape. Standing her ground, she gathered her strength and placed a hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw. The battle was going to hurt, she just knew it. The troll watched, waiting for her to come toward it.