Page 29 of Ransomed to the World
Logan pulled away, and she could see Nerilla coming for her. Annora quickly turned toward Camden. “What did you learn?”
“Two things…Logan is correct. The troll will be in charge, so any sign of the Mason you know will be completely gone.” He grabbed her close, as if to shake the fact into her. “I also learned you’ll basically be dropped into a maze. The only way out is the way you entered.”
A cheer went up, and she saw the trolls begin to line up at the entrance of the cave.
Time was short.
“While I’m gone, I want you to get the wolves.” She directed the order to Logan, knowing if anyone could sneak out, it would be him. “Get them ready to move. I have a feeling we’ll need to leave in a hurry.”
Before anyone could say more, Nerilla strode across the clearing. “We have only a few minutes. Follow me.”
The queen didn’t even pause while she strode right into the giant maw of the cave. Annora scrambled after her, a glance behind her showing Mason was rising slowly to his feet…and he was completely in his troll form, his clothing busted at the seams.
It was the image of him that allowed her to enter the cave when it felt like her skin was trying to crawl off her body. To her surprise, the underground area was fairly well lit. The main pathway led off to the left, opening up to a large cavern where what appeared to be a marketplace was set up. There were over a hundred trolls, if not more, strolling around, and she suspected that this was just a peek into their world.
Instead of entering, Nerilla took them past the opening. Annora hadn’t even been aware the passageway continued. As they kept walking through the tunnel, she was surprised to see at least a dozen offshoots.
The troll ignored every one of them.
The place was surprisingly clean, the air getting cooler with every step. The farther they went, the darker the cave became…and Annora could practically feel the walls pressing in on her.
“You don’t like us trolls very much,” Queen Nerilla mused.
Annora pursed her lips, deciding it was better not to piss off the queen. “The only thing I know about trolls is what I learned from Mason. You treated him like shit, and that’s something I can’t forgive.”
Nerilla looked thoughtful. “What you see as cruelty might actually be a kindness. While trolls may be fierce, we’re also hunted by others. Mason is only a half-breed. He’s vulnerable. When our trolls take over, we rage with little regard for protecting the weak. Our young must learn how to protect themselves, because no one else will.”
It made sense in a weird sort of fucked-up way, but Annora couldn’t help thinking there had to be a better way. But instead of challenging Nerilla, her focus was riveted on what she’d said. “Hunted?”
Nerilla cast her a speculative look, as if deciding whether to trust her. “A long time ago, warlocks used to hunt us for our skins. You’ve noticed the tattoos etched into Mason’s spine?”
Annora could only nod, not sure she wanted to know more.
“Unlike other species, our skins are able to retain magic, so they make the perfect covers to protect the witches’ precious grimoires. The practice has fallen out of use for most practitioners…except for the old families.” They took a sharp right, the lights all but vanishing.
“Not to mention our bones and teeth are harder than any diamond. Then there are our horns. When ground up and either eaten or inhaled, they’re a powerful aphrodisiac.” She gave her a knowing smirk. “But I’m guessing you already knew about the horns.”
Annora was glad for the darkness, but Nerilla wasn’t fooled, her belly laugh booming in the small space. They only went a dozen more feet when they came to a dead end. When Nerilla turned toward her, Annora couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Why tell me your secrets?”
“Because if you manage to survive, you’ll be part of the tribe and need to know.” Nerilla then gave a broad smile and shrugged. “And if you don’t win, you’ll be dead, so it don’t matter.”
Annora winced at the not so cheery thought.
She tapped her nails against the tips of her fingers, the sharp sting of pain keeping the panic at bay and her mind focused. “So how do I win?”
Nerilla lifted her gaze and looked over Annora’s head.
That’s when she heard it—Mason’s bellow.
“The hunt has begun.” Nerilla upended the bloody cup she carried. Instead of blood, a black opal spilled into her palm. It shimmered in the dark, alive with colors. Even at a distance, Annora could feel power radiating from it. “You have twenty minutes to complete your task. All you have to do is find this stone. Once it comes into contact with your skin, Mason will once again recognize you as his mate, and so will his troll. Don’t lose it.”
Then without another word, she dropped the gem.
Annora watched as it spun in the air, falling through a hole in the ground she hadn’t noticed, before winking out of existence. The darkness was so complete, not even a flicker of light could be seen.
Another bellow echoed in the confined space, sounding like a train barreling down on her.
“Good luck.” Nerilla slapped her on the back, sending her staggering forward, and Annora teetered on the edge of the abyss. The ground crumbled beneath her feet, and she found herself falling through space, Nerilla’s voice echoing down to her. “You’re going to need it.”
