Prologue
Trolls. We are known to the world as vicious, bloodthirsty monsters.
We build, only to destroy.
Our victims weep.
And then we do it all again.
My father raised me to butcher giants with all the hopes of a new father that I would follow in his footsteps as a supreme ruler. He would writhe in his grave if he knew that I had cast off both his weapons and ambition—that I took a new name for me and my people after he died. There was no more Ma’Teo the Butcher. No more trolls. MerelyKingTeo and theEnduares.
Fifty years later, I wonder what purpose there was in trying to reinvent my court. My people still mourn their families, the same as the elves and giants. A name does not erase more than ten thousand dead. We could not eat our identity before it ate us. Just like the ocean eats everything—including our old home.
Today I stand outside, on one of the rare occasions when my people leave the under mountain, and hold a newborn in my arms. We all stare at the ocean, the icy waves lapping against the shore and the singers cast their voices to the murky white quartz, filling the air with joyful harmonies.
“I think you should do it, King Teo,” Iryth says as she smiles at her son. Her braid hangs over her shoulder, and her silver-blue eyes shine with such joy. “I am sure Mother Liana will not be angry.”
As the wise woman, Liana usually holds up the child, but she is late by more than an hour. I nod, “It would be my pleasure as king to perform the ceremony,” I say and step in the middle of my people.
“Your mothers have given you the name Sama, and today, you join your people, the Enduares,” I say loudly.
The little thing flicks its tail back and forth, squirming in the cold wind. Svanna and Iryth are one of few mated pairs, and they adopted Sama after his birth parents died in a mining cave-in last week. We do not mourn Mele and Irsh today—they would’ve wanted us to celebrate their son.
The singers hold up their crystals higher as their volume increases. The open-air sings, igniting the joy inside of us and making the atmosphere more boisterous.
“I bless you with the names of our gods, Grutabela and Endu. Be strong, little one. Grow with the stone,” I call up to the heavens where Grutabela sits on her starry throne. “May your eyes one day see Vidalena.”
As if on cue, the little one opens his mouth and lets out a cry loud enough to make my ears ring. Everyone laughs and shouts blessed words to the new babe.
“My son is strong,” Iryth says proudly. Her mating mark is displayed proudly on her neck, and I conceal my lingering look.
Despite how deeply I long for a child, I am alone and cannot take on Sama. A king without a queen is laughable.
“He will be a strong miner!” Svanna shouts.
The rest of us shower the babe with blessings of goodwill, and I try to hold the happiness close before a cloud settles over my people once more. I hold Sama up for a little longer, waiting as the singers finish their songs, and then turn to pass the wailing creature off to Svanna.
It is a shadow of what we once were, but for now, it is enough. While turning, I catch Ulla’s eyes in the crowd. She turns away. I watch her smiles while I grieve the distance between us. We weren’t meant to be, but I dislike causing her pain.
“Stop!”someone cries. The air becomes discordant, and everyone turns to see Liana finally appear at the cave’s entrance.She is old enough to be my actual mother, but she’s as fast as any hunter in the Enduar court.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, carefully composing myself as I feel my people’s attention hot on my neck.
Liana gasps and bends over, trying to catch her breath. When she finally stands upright, the crystals hanging off every inch of her dress jangle, and she points toward the horizon. "It's the giants," she pants, the morning sun glinting off of the piercings in her nose and eyebrow. “I was preparing Sama’s necklace when something clouded the magic. The clouds gave way to a vision. They'll be here early."
Tension is thick. "How early?" I ask. As guardian of the Fuegorra crystal, she has the ability to see that which I cannot.
Before she has a chance to respond, a light tremor shakes the ground beneath our feet. Everyone grows impossibly more silent as the mountain stones confirm Liana’s words.
Nearly three days early, damn tree rutters. We were direct with our instructions.
My lips curl at the thought of our old enemies, slavers, traders, and greedy bastards. They remind me of my father. I take a deep breath, trying to control the anger that boils in my chest.
"Hunters! Prepare to defend the city," I say, my voice ringing clear through the silence. "Joso, I want all women and children escorted to the lower levels. Now."
My people move quickly, rushing towards the tunnels. The singers' melodies turn into a chant, a song of urgency, and I can feel the power of their crystals strengthening my resolve. I doubt we will fight them, but our long history together has given me reason to be suspicious.
I turn to Liana. "Our agreement was for two carts of supplies. There should be no more than four giants in total. How many did you see?" I demand.