Page 31 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

I glance over my shoulder to where the rest of our group watches, looking unsure of what to do next. Savell and Ronan stand with most of their weight balanced on one foot, as if they’ll take off running in the opposite direction at any moment. Orim remains at the ready, looking to Asheros for his next command. Kheldryn stands perfectly still, bow strung, her fingers hovering by the arrow’s nock.

Gryska tightens her grip around her hand axes, leaning forward as though she’s about to charge at the troll head-on. “Don’t worry, I can take him.”

“Leave,” I shout. “Now.”

“If you think you can be rid of me that easily, Bladesinger,” Asheros throws back, “then you’re not as quick-witted as I thought.” That smirk plays at his lips, attempting to mask the sweat beading across his forehead.

I drop to my feet. The troll’s arms crash together above my head, and I roll forward, just out of its reach.

Asheros’s shadows dissipate. Light on his feet, he lunges forward and then ducks to avoid being hit by the troll, who rears its hand back in preparation of another strike. When it’s about to make another move for me, Asheros—that gods-damned idiot—jumps upward, hooking his arms over the troll’s shoulder.

Slow to realize this, the troll raises its hand to grab me, suspending Asheros in the air, his legs dangling over the creature’s arm at least twelve feet above the ground. The troll turns to him, anger clouding its face, and shakes its limb like it’s trying to free itself from a parasite.

Savell and Ronan charge at the beast. Orim doesn’t hesitate to follow. Mirroring Asheros, Ronan does the same to the troll’s other shoulder, clinging to it like a pest. The troll bellows, its efforts to shake them off becoming more haphazard and savage. Meanwhile, Savell and Orim take turns poking the troll’s belly with their swords, inciting the creature further.

If escape was my goal, this chaos would provide the perfect cover. Asheros is too busy battling the troll, as are the others. But even if my goals hadn’t changed, would I run? Would I abandon them?

I find myself frozen in place.

No. Even with my instincts blaring to run, I wouldn’t move.

Asheros’s attention locks on me, further immobilizing me. He bares his teeth in concentration, brows furrowed slightly, and then shadows close in around me. The troll, too preoccupied with ridding itself of Asheros, Ronan, Savell, and Orim, barely notices.

My breath quickens and my brows draw together. Asheros’s shadows protected me. Not himself. Not the others.

Why? Why hide me and not himself?

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I act.

I don’t waste another second and grab the nearest branch I can find. It pales in comparison to my blades, but for now, it will do.

I lift the branch over my head, shifting my weight to the balls of my feet. Squinting, I stop, raising a hand over my eyes.

The morning sun peeks over the tree line.

It’s about gods-damned time.

The troll’s eyes widen in realization, and its efforts to shake Asheros and Ronan loose become increasingly more frantic. The two fae males grimace and grit their teeth, doing all they can to hold on.

Slowly, starting from the outskirts of its body and moving toward its center, the troll’s leathery skin hardens, turning gray. As if it’s moving through hardening mud, the creature’s movements slow, audible cracks sounding through the woods. The troll gives one last cry, the stone eating away at the last remaining parts of its face, leaving its mouth wide open.

Letting out long, tired exhales, Asheros and Ronan relax and let their bodies go limp—save for their arms and hands, which still grip the troll’s now-stone arms.

Gracefully, they lower themselves down and let go, feet landing softly on the forest floor.

Kheldryn, Savell, and Ronan let out sighs of relief, while Orim and Gryska raise their arms to slap each other’s palms with whoops of laughter.

“Well,” Asheros announces, brushing his hands against his leather pants. He looks at me. “That was quite the spectacle, wasn’t it?”

Chapter Nine

“You idiot. I told you to leave,” I seethe, marching right up to him. “What on the gods’ green earth would possess you to throw yourself at the troll like that?”

All at once, Asheros’s light-hearted expression goes cold, hard lines gripping his mouth, face, and shoulders.

Savell and Ronan blanch and glance at each other before backing away from me like I’m a wild beast. Kheldryn and Gryska exchange similar looks and then quickly busy themselves with the horses. Rubbing the back of his neck, Orim scans our surroundings and makes his way elsewhere.

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