It had been common knowledge all throughout my childhood that a young lady could never be accepted at the Great Library, any more than a human could ever converse with a troll. But that hadn’t stopped me, hadit?
“Harwood, don’t be a fool,” Wrexham muttered as I lunged upward. “Take my—damn it,Harwood!”
I was already scrambling out of his reach, the force of my frustration propelling me as fiercely across the troll’s slanted, rising back as any of the unstoppable metal steam trains that thundered through the southern counties. “Gothan dag!” I bellowed, cupping one hand to my mouth as I clung with my other hand to the slopingground.
It was the language of the old Deniscan invaders who’d carried the trolls with them in the first place over a thousand years ago. Even in the northernmost points of Angland, it had been centuries since almost anyone had spoken it apart from two or three of the most obsessively dedicatedhistorians…
…Including my older brother, as it happened. Jonathan had taught himself as a youth out of academic curiosity, and then taught it to me as a useful secret language. All through my childhood, it had filled our letters to each other and our most private conversations. We’d retreated into it whenever we most needed a safe harbor from our parents’ disapproval or his classmates’ pryingeyes.
Apparently, some creatures in this land were old enough to recognize ittoo.
The rocky surface beneath us went abruptlystill.
Wrexham’s dark eyes widened. “You’ve certainly got its attention,” he murmured. He rose to his feet, giving the unmoving landscape a wary look, but he showed no signs of leaving to save himself…as usual. Would the maneverlearn the value of a strategic retreat in any area of hislife?
But there was no time to waste in that oldbattle.
“We apologize for disturbing you!” I shouted instead in Densk, aiming my words in the direction of the troll’s still-hidden head. “If you could let us safely off your back, please, we would be extremely grateful. And we’d make certain that no one else disturbs your rest any time soon, I promise! We would protect you from any otherintruders!”
It was, of course, a perfectly safe promise to make. Once the tenants around here were alerted to the real nature of this “hill,” I was more than certain that they would all steer a wide berth around it. If any more incentive was required, Lord Cosgrave could be called in to add magicalprotections.
But for all the good sense of my strategy, Wrexham was staring at me with openshock.
“Good God,” he said. “The tone of your voice… You actually listened to some of your mother’s political lessons after all! I’ve never heard you actuallynegotiatewith anyone before. I didn’t even know that youcould!”
“Pah.” I narrowed my eyes at him. Of all the times to ramble nonsense! I hadnegotiatedfor years to make my entry into the Great Library…by utterly refusing to give up on my great plans until the world around me finally saw sense and acceptedthem.
But before I could come up with a properly sizzling retort, the ground suddenly dropped away beneath myfeet.
The lantern slipped out of my hand as I fell. I lurched forward just in time to snatch the iron casing from mid-air…but with both hands full, I landed hard on the troll’s rocky back at a distressingangle.
My heart thudded in my tight chest, and my breath came in shallow pants. The spellcast bubble of warmth around me stopped the snow from soaking my coat and gown, but it couldn’t stop my knees and elbows from bruising badly. I bit back a curse as I pushed myself upright, only slightly mollified to see that Wrexham, too, had fallen into an undignifiedpose.
“It appears,” I said breathlessly, “that my negotiations may have worked.So—”
The troll’s stony knees hit the ground below us with a thud that rocked through my bones and sent us both sprawling in thesnow.
“Ouch.” Wrexham picked himself up, wincing. “I should have known that if you ever did agree to negotiate on anything, the result would inevitably be painful for both ofus.”
“Ohhh—!” Growling, I lunged to my feet and shoved the compass into the pocket of my greatcoat. “For once in your life, would you stop talking andrun?”
I didn’t wait to hear his answer. Holding my too-constricting skirts high with my free hand, I leapt, skidded and half-slid down the rocky slope, grateful for Lady Cosgrave’s sturdy boots. The lantern’s light rocketed around me wildly as it swung from my right hand, sending beams of light shooting through the thickening veil ofsnow.
The sky above was growing noticeably darker already, shifting from light to dark gray as the pale winter sun slid down toward the horizon. This far north, it would be night-black soon, even though it wasn’t yet evening. Andthen…
Panting, I hurtled down the final yards of the troll’s bent back. The creature’s earlier movement had dislodged all of the accumulated earth and sod of centuries that had smoothed out the cracks between its crouching limbs when I’d first climbed up it. Now I had to grit my teeth, toss the lantern aside, and take a flying leap across the last ten feet to solid ground, bending my legs and wrapping my arms around my head for self-protection.
Distantly, I heard the sound of glass shattering as I landed and rolled across thesnow.
Ow. Ow, ow,ow…
I rolled to a stop, breathinghard.
My shoulder hurt. My ribs hurt. My chesthurt.
It wasglorious.I felt tinglingly, wildly alive for the first time inages.
It was the absolute polar opposite of the last four months of smothering safety and silent tears and cosseting, overwhelming solicitude all aroundme.
