Page 251 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
“You’re insane.”
“I missed you, too.” I sent him a warm smile, which he mirrored. “Now stand there and let me deal with this.”
He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t changed.”
No, I had. But seeing Dax again brought back those old bad habits.
I’d deal with that later.
With hesitant steps, I approached the troll. My heart beat against my ribs, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run the other way.
But I was stubborn.
I opened my satchel and took out the tinctures I’d used on Geryll and the rest of the warriors.
“I can’t heal your wound with powers like the Commander can, but I can disinfect it,” I muttered.
I swear its eyes softened, even as he still struggled against the blue tendrils, each movement yanking on my chest.
I loosed a breath. With shaky fingers, I parted its bloody fur. My jaw clenched when I saw it.
This was too clean to have been an accident. Too precise to have been carved by a wild animal or an accident.
It looked like a human blade. A very sharp one.
Ryker’s warning whispered in my ear.
Trust nobody.
Somebody had maimed the troll.
Maybe out of self-defense.
Perhaps for a more sinister reason.
I looked the troll in its eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you tell me who did this?”
The troll didn’t move.
I swallowed my sigh. It hadn’t hurt to try.
“This is going to sting, but it helps.” I opened one of the tincture vials and let a drop trickle on my skin, hissing as if in pain to demonstrate. “Pain, but good.”
The troll’s icy eyes didn’t stray from my face, but no longer struggled against the binds.
I swallowed deeply, dabbed some of the liquid onto a piece of gauze and pressed it against the wound.
The troll whimpered, pulling on the tendrils so hard, the force of it unbalanced me.
“Shhh, shhh,” I cooed. “It’ll pass, I swear.”
Slowly, the troll stilled once more. I continued cleaning his wound, aware Dax was watching my every move. Having him by my side gave me more courage.
After the wound, I cleaned the blood from its fur. Red, just like mine. But its fur was decidedly softer than my own locks, like snow threaded in silk.
“This is all I can do,” I said, making a show of placing the vials and gauze back in the satchel, which I left by its side after I removed the palaver book. “You can take the rest, use it later. We’ll leave and you have to leave, too. A life for a plea. Don’t come back here, it’s dangerous for youandus. And don’t hurt anyone.”
