The Culling Trials (Shadowspell Academy #2)(6)

He wiggled the index and middle fingers on his left hand, and a strange sizzling feeling rolled over my skin—his magic, if I had to guess. Trolls clearly had magic.

I worked to brush it off, but a scene interrupted my vision. The troll stood over me as I lay with my limbs bent at strange angles, my eyes wide and pleading.

I blinked my eyes then rubbed them, trying to clear away the image. Trying to root myself in reality and shake the visual he was forcing on me. I couldn’t quite do it, but it no longer commanded my attention. Pain throbbed through my body as though his huge, meaty foot had stomped on me.

My legs shook from the visceral reaction, so badly, I had to lock them to keep standing.

“See?” the troll breathed the word, hissing it. “Now you see. You see what I will do to you. What I will enjoy doing over and over again.”

Gregory groaned. “It isn’t real, Wild! None of what he will show you is real—ignore it and fight!”

I gave a slow nod and breathed through the washes of fear coming at me, like breakers in the ocean. I squinted through the double vision. “Try again, dumb ass.” I gritted my teeth as I made myself grin at him.

His bulbous eyes bugged out even farther. “Not possible! You will fear me!”

I couldn’t stop myself from flipping him off, even though the effort left me shaking. I forced my frown into a grin. “So much eloquence coming out of a big, dumb-looking, booger-riddled creature. Why is that? What do you have? Some smarty-pants magic user feeding you lines?” I adjusted my stance on the thick stone railing of the bridge. Or tried to. I fought to lift a foot, but I was stuck to the stone. The troll’s smile widened and the bugger winked at me.

Oh crap.

“Six little ducks went out one day.” He took a step toward me.

“Get ready to run. He’s about to be very distracted,” Ethan barked, but I didn’t think it was at me. No, I was the distraction here. My crew would run to safety, leaving me to handle the troll.

The troll took another step and the image it was taunting me with shifted again, showing my intestines spilled out into the water below the bridge, the water turning pinkish red. I blinked it away and fought to keep my balance as vertigo hit me hard and left me swaying.

“Over the bridge and far away.” The troll took another step and I tried again to yank my feet off the stone. Glued, I was damn well glued to it with some sort of troll magic.

“Boots, get them off!” Gregory yelled.

I bent and ripped frantically at the laces. Got one of them off.

“Mother duck called quack, quack, quack.” The troll reached for me before I could free my foot from the other boot. “But only five little ducks came limping back.”

That big paw of a hand swept toward my head and I did the limbo backward on pure instinct, my one foot stuck in the boot that was still attached to the stone. I yelled as I swung down, the force wrenching my knee before that foot came loose at the last second.

I tumbled through the air, landing in the water below with a sickening thud. Not enough water to cushion my fall, not enough mud to sink under me. I groaned as I rolled onto my belly and feet, soaked through.

“Hurry!” Wally said. “Trolls are known to eat as many as ten people per annum.”

I lurched toward the far side of the creek, the cold water soaking my clothes and chilling me despite the warm weather. A huge splash behind me told me all I needed to know. My new friend had followed me, allowing the others to cross.

I spun, reaching for my knife as I whipped around.

The troll was a hell of a lot bigger than I’d thought, that or he’d grown in the last few seconds.

“Little duck, you are going to die. Better that I do it now than you see what is coming for you. What is coming for you, oh, that is much worse than anything I could do.” He grinned and pointed a finger at me. A magic finger that could make me see horrible things.

Well, that was enough of that garbage.

I lunged toward him and slashed with my knife, aiming for that finger. He was far too slow, and I took the finger off at the second knuckle before he could so much as blink.

We both stared as the digit fell into the water. Bloop. For just a split second, there was nothing, no noise, no drop of blood, and then it all went to hell.

The troll fell backward, swinging up his hand, and in the process, spraying me with blood the color of a grapefruit’s innards. Pale pink splattered over me—the smell of it not that far off citrus either—and I pushed my back against the solid ditch behind me as the troll wailed at the top of his lungs.

The fear was gone as were the visions he’d superimposed on my sight. But for how long?

“My fingy, my fingy, she took my fingy! You said I wouldn’t get hurt. You said I’d scare them and get to eat them, but none were mean enough to hurt me! Oh, I’m going to tear this bitch apart.” He roared the words as he straightened himself up, his eyes coming back to find me on the far side of the ditch.

Time to go.

Panic clawed at me. I had no boots, a single knife, and a troll that had just decided I needed my body parts rearranged.

“I need help!” I yelled up at my team, hoping they hadn’t gone far.

“Here, I have a stick,” Pete called from above me. I spun and reached my hands up to see he’d oversold it—it wasn’t a stick but a twig that was thin and wobbling even as he stretched down to me. I spread my hands wide.