Then a new figure drops into the chamber, right in the middle of the trolls. You catch the bronze gleam of a speartip as it punches through one of the candle-heads. The creatures waver, some dropping their weapons, and you see your chance. You slash the nearest troll's hand, knocking him into his fellows. This new attacker keeps away from you, fighting with their back to the wall even as you get away from the river. The trolls are so numerous they could probably still overwhelm you, but instead they panic and flee. Some rush for the crack in the wall, while others jump onto the coracle and cast off.

You count five corpses, two of whom were candle-heads whose lights still provide some illumination. The new figure studies you, keeping to the shadows.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Good evening." A woman's voice, low and strangely accented, whispery as if from long silence. "You're not who I was looking for."

The pressure returns upon your mind, an alien force. Is this what has driven the trolls mad? Does a goddess stand before you? You look for the signs of Phy or Amiria or Mithi. But then you realize that the woman is a nymph, radiant and long-limbed, with a moon-pale face surrounded by short hair the color of summer skies. She leans against a winged spear with a pole of hard ash and seems both irritated and bewildered by everything around her, including you. You have never met a nymph before, and though you know enough of the strange immortals to be cautious, her mannerisms are not threatening. She prods a dead troll with her spear.