“Two sets of tracks,” he said. “The trolls split up to follow both trails.”
“I see that.” I pointed to the right. “Chris went that way. His horse is shod, the other isn’t.” I took in the churned up snow and horse dung. “The second rider was waiting here for him. They knew there would be more than one and they wanted to split the trolls up.” I kicked a clump of snow. “Chris never intended to kill Roland with that shot – he knew they’d be shielded. He wanted the trolls to follow him.”
I started down the path Chris had taken, but not before casting a backward glance at my friends. “Keep your wits about you.”
We moved at a more measured pace, Marc in front, Victoria at my arm, and Vincent holding up the rear. All three of them had weapons in their hands, heads turning at the slightest sound, and eyes scanning our surroundings for any sign of motion. Or scanning them as well as they could. The sun was directly overhead, and even though the forest with its thick evergreens blocked most of the brightness, I still caught all three of them wiping their eyes with the back of their hands.
A scream echoed through the woods, and we stopped, waiting for another. “From the other trail, I think,” Marc said. “But hard to say whether it was human or troll. Let’s keep moving.”
We stepped into a clearing, and the sun beat off the pristine snow, making even my eyes sting.
“Stones and sky,” Vincent hissed. “Never thought I’d miss being stuck underground, but I do.”
They were walking blind, so I tried to look every which way for them. Despite the chill in the air, sweat dribbled down my back, and every bird chirp or crack of a branch made me jump. I rotated in a circle, peering into the depths of the forest as I turned. Though we were almost through the clearing, I rotated again. Then something caught my eye.
“Stop.”
Marc froze. I circled around him, noting the way the hoof prints moved up the side of the path, whereas the troll’s boot prints just… disappeared. “Give me your sword,” I said, then, taking the blade, I poked the ground in front of the last footprint.
Solid.
I shuffled forward a pace, and poked the ground. Nothing. A thought occurred to me, and I snapped my head up so hard my neck clicked. But there was no troll hiding in the branches above. Frowning, I took another step, and the ground fell out from under my foot.
I shrieked and threw my weight back, sprawling in the snow.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Victoria said, even as Marc added, “And the mice discover a way to kill the lions.”
Rolling onto my hands and knees, I stared into the hole that had nearly claimed me as its next victim. It was deep, and the bottom was covered in sharpened steel spikes. Impaled on one of them was a troll.
“Is he dead?” I asked, hardly willing to believe it was possible.
“Quite.” Marc dropped the edge of the white sheet of canvas that, along with a fresh dusting of snow, had been used to conceal the opening. Keen eyes would have seen the trap, but those of a running troll half blind from the sun? Not likely.
A grouse called from the woods, and I stiffened. “They’re watching us,” I said under my breath. If they were with Chris, then they were my friends, but I was in disguise and none but he would know Marc and the twins were allies. Lifting my hands to my mouth, I repeated the bird call.
Silence. And too much of it. “Companions of Chris will know who I am,” I whispered to Marc. He nodded once, and held out an arm to help me to my feet.
Taking a deep breath, I called out, “We’re no threat to you. I’m a friend of Christophe Girard.”
For several long and painful moments, no one responded, then the bushes rustled and Chris’s face emerged. “Cécile? What did you do to your hair?”
I winced at his use of my name, hoping the fairies weren’t watching. “Long story.” I gestured at the pit. “What’s going on here?”
He emerged from the bushes, and with a wave of his hand, four other faces appeared from the woods – all folk from Goshawk’s Hollow. “Tristan gave me a few ideas before I left,” he said. “The rest… Well, I remembered how blinded he was those first few days after he left Trollus, and I figured we could take advantage of that.”
“And you decided Roland should be your first target?” I balled my hands into fists, curbing the urge to lay into him for ruining our plans. What was done was done.
Chris shook his head. “We’ve been watching them. Roland refuses to come out into the sun, and besides, Lessa seems to control his every move. Didn’t seem likely she’d let him chase after us into the woods.” Scrubbing his fingers through his hair, he glanced into the pit. “The other two were our targets. Figured we’d take out as many as we could so Tristan’d have a clear shot at his brother. Speaking of which…”