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11
Isenseda hint of magic in the rock wall we faced.What do you think,Sindari?
It is an enchanted doorway.The tiger sat on his haunches and watched me.You should have brought your new dwarffriend.
Dimitri? We just met him yesterday. I wouldn’t consider him a friendyet.
He’s watching the small demon feline. Is this not an act offriendship?
Goodpoint.
“Sindari says it’s an enchanted doorway,” I toldMom.
She was patting all along the rock face, looking for a gap or some magical switch tothrow.
“They probably sensed the werewolves—and the dragon—and locked up tight.” I fingered my key-shaped charm, wondering if it would be up to thetask.
“He… says?” For the first time, Mom paused and studied Sindari. “Your, uh, tigerspeaks?”
Sindari lifted his head and puffed out his chest under thisperusal.
“Telepathically to me, yes. I think he can only communicate with people who are capable of telepathy themselves and the person who has his charm.” I touched the figurine. “You’ll have to trust me that he’s wise andwitty.”
I’m positive she can tell that from the regal way I carrymyself.
You’ve got werewolf blood spattered on yourtail.
Regally.
“Let me try, Mom.” I waved her back from the rock, rested my hand on the rock face, and grasped mycharm.
This one didn’t have an activation word that needed to be voiced. Closing my eyes, I willed it to thwart whatever locking mechanism or enchantment lay beforeus.
It warmed in my grip, and the rock under my hand grew less solid. As it wavered, becoming opaque and then translucent, something came into view. A blue-green troll with spiky white hair—and aclub.
It roared, staring straight at me. I jumped back, yanking out Chopper instead of my gun. Trolls were next to impossible to kill even with magicalammunition.
“Wait.” Mom stepped up beside me, lifting her empty hands. “I’m friends with Greemaw. I’ve been herebefore.”
Would the troll understand her? It wore a necklace of teeth, but nothing appeared magical and able totranslate.
“You bring the Deathstalker here?” The troll pointed its club at me.Herclub, I decided, noticing something akin to breasts pressed against her leather tunic. “This is not the act of afriend.”
“I can’t understand her,” Mom whispered. “Canyou?”
“Yes, she doesn’t likeme.”
“I gathered that from theclub.”
“This is my mother.” I tilted my head toward her without lowering my sword. “She said someone here—ah, Greemaw—might be able to answer a few questions. I don’t want a fight, justinformation.”
I wondered if the troll knew about the werewolves and would call me a liar, since I’d been fightingthem.
She looked over our heads, an easy feat since she was almost ten feet tall, and out toward the forest. The nostrils in her wide squat nose flared. I don’t know what the winds told her, but she gave me a flat, unfriendlylook.
“The price of information will be high for theDeathstalker.”
“If I introduce myself as Val, will thathelp?”
