I didn’t have the tools they did. No training to fall back on. No blessing to lean into. Just a battered shield, a burning curse under my skin, and the knowledge that charging in would get me killed.

  So, I held my ground.

  I raised the buckler, thin wood trembling in my grip, and fixed my eyes on the creature while forcing my breath to slow. My legs shook, lungs burning, but I stayed where I was, waiting for Amelia’s call.

  Behind me, the pack rustled as she tore it open.

  “Keep it distracted!” she shouted to Rob, already digging through the supplies. She came up with the talisman I’d noticed earlier.

  I barely had time to register it before she snapped the charm in two and flung the pieces to the dirt.

  Light burst outward on impact. Warmth slammed into me, sharp and invigorating, driving the weakness from my limbs as if something inside me had been forcibly wound tight.

  Rob and Amelia moved at once, faster, surer, like a signal had been given and they finally knew exactly what to do.

  Rob’s speed surged. He darted past the troll’s next strike and slashed the back of its leg. A clean hit. The first wound any of us had managed. Rob’s face lit up in triumph.

  But the moment the blade left its flesh, the wound sealed shut as if it had never been there.

  “What… what was that!?” Rob yelled, scrambling back from a swing that would’ve flattened him.

  A story from the notebook hit me.

  “It’s troll healing!” I shouted. One of the warnings in the tales finally making sense.

  Amelia looked about and snatched up a larger stone, whispered into her palm, and let it fly. This time it struck true, slamming into the troll’s mouth before exploding on impact. Shards of stone and broken teeth scattered across the grass.

  The creature reeled back with a guttural bellow. Yet even as it snarled, the torn flesh along its jaw knitted itself together. Its small yellow eyes swept over the three of us, calculating. It was angry.

  In two heavy strides it reached the ruined wagon, planted a massive hand on the frame, and tore free a thick wooden slab with a splintering crack.

  With its new club in hand it swung at Rob, the wood whistling through the air. Rob ducked, barely. The troll snarled something guttural, then heaved the slab towards Amelia.

  I froze for a heartbeat. There was no way she’d dodge in time.

  On instinct, I stepped in front of her and raised the shield.

  The impact hit like a battering ram. The buckler shuddered in my grip as the force sent me sprawling backward.

  “Ah—!”

  “Sean!” Amelia screamed.

  Pain shot down my arm, and I clenched my teeth. Amelia was suddenly over me, helping me sit upright as I stared at the splintered remains of the buckler. Somehow it had taken most of the blow.

  The troll lumbered toward us with a low snarl. All I could do was watch as its shadow swallowed our little patch of earth. Rob was still fighting—his dagger lodged in the creature’s back—but a single backhand sent him skidding across the grass.

  I tried to warn Amelia, but she was too focused on pulling me to my feet.

  A heavy foot thudded into the dirt beside us. Amelia looked up, eyes wide, and screamed.

  The moment hit me with a strange familiarity—Celeste, Nick, all the times my curse had flared in panic. And then, an idea. Not a good one, but the only one.

  Before the troll could swing again, a sudden hiss cut through the air. The black cat launched itself at the creature’s face, claws raking across its eyes. The troll roared, stumbling.

  I seized the chance. My hand shot out and closed around its ankle.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Heat surged through me. The curse, burning under my skin, but this time it felt as though the fire pushed outward, channelling straight into the troll’s rough, scaled hide. Red tendrils flickered across the troll’s skin where my hand made contact. Thin, vein-like streaks that pulsed once before sinking in.

  The troll made a sound I’d never heard from any creature. Not rage. Not frustration. Pain. Real pain. And something else behind it. Fear.

  It tore its leg free, stumbling back with a panicked lurch. Amelia, wide-eyed, toppled onto the grass as the troll scrambled away, swiping blindly at the air. The cat clung to its face for a moment longer before dropping off, landing cleanly on all fours.

  Then, to our astonishment, the tiny creature chased the giant. The troll bolted across the paddock toward the far fence, crashing through the tree line with enough force to shake loose birds from the branches. The cat darted after it like some unlikely hero. Within moments, both shapes vanished into the forest’s shadow.

  Silence settled hard.

  Rob limped toward us, breathing heavily, eyes fixed on the trees.

  Amelia swallowed. “What… was that?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Do trolls really fear cats that much?” Rob puffed. Blood streaked his forehead, but his armour had taken the worst of it. He stooped, picked up a broken troll tooth, and limped back toward us. “We were lucky.”

  “Too lucky,” I murmured, watching the treeline where the creature had vanished.

  Amelia swept her gaze across the field, jaw set. “A troll shouldn’t be this close to town.”

  Rob shook his head. “No idea. But it’s still out there. We can’t leave it like this.”

  I nodded. Someone stronger would have to deal with it properly.

  “George first,” Amelia said.

  We made our way back toward the farmstead, bruised and limping, adrenaline finally draining away. George was in the barn, scrubbing out a metal bucket. When he spotted us, his face went pale.

  “What in Avalon happened to you lot?” he blurted.

  We told him, carefully, the important parts.

  His face drained of colour. Without another word, he ushered us into the house. I tried to apologise for the mud and grass we were tracking across his floor, but he waved it off immediately; his focus was on checking us over, making sure none of us were hiding anything worse than bruises.

  “The cat helped,” Amelia added once he’d finished. “It scared the troll away.”

  George gave her a sceptical look but didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped outside to shout for a few neighbours. Within minutes, reinforcements were gathering across the paddock including what looked like a seasoned guard.

  An older woman, his wife maybe, appeared and set out mugs of cool water and a plate of biscuits. We sat quietly in their small living room, catching our breath while the adults organised themselves.

  When we finally left, we found someone had placed a small saucer of milk on the porch, right beside the door.

  None of us said anything about the saucer.

  We just exchanged a tired nod and kept walking.

  With the job done, at least for now, we left the farmstead and headed back toward the cottage.

  “First task ever and you survive a troll attack,” Rob said, managing a lopsided grin. “Pretty good start, mate.”

  “Yeah…” was all I could get out.

  “Lucky that cat showed up, aye?” he added. “If that oaf hadn’t knocked me sideways, I would’ve had him.”

  I glanced at him, raising a brow. “Really?”

  He nodded with absolute confidence.

  Amelia didn’t join in. She hugged her arms close, murmuring mostly to herself, “I need to research trolls… and cats.”

  By the time we reached Trond Cottage, Doyle took one look at us and his face dropped. Mud, torn clothes, bruises. None of it inspired confidence. He clearly didn’t believe a word of our explanation… until Rob produced the troll tooth.

  Only then did Doyle go quiet, listening with full attention as we recounted the fight.

  “Well done aspirants. I will have a chat with the local guards. Trolls rarely wander. They tend to burrow and hibernate, sometimes for decades. I would bet that the Troll had been sleeping beneath our feet for a very long time.”

  “What woke it up?” Rob asked.

  Doyle shrugged. “That’s what we need to find out.” He ducked into the house and returned with a small tray of cinnamon scrolls. “For now, catch your breath out here. I’ll alert the guards.”

  He hurried off toward the village post, leaving the three of us in the garden. I gladly dropped the heavy pack beside the steps and rolled my shoulders, feeling the relief settle in. The others sprawled on the grass, happily tearing into their treats. Rob uncapped a waterskin, took a swig, and tossed it to Amelia without even looking. She caught it with ease.

  The casual rhythm between them, practised and easy, made it clear they’d done this together more than once.

  “How’s your arm?” Amelia asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I flexed my fingers, testing my wrist. “It’s fine. The shield was… better than I expected.”

  She watched me closely, studying my face.

  I looked away and cleared my throat. “So… what are we doing for the rest of the day?”

  Rob perked up instantly. “Hey! It’s market day!”

  “Mm,” Amelia said, though her eyes still hadn’t left me. “Might as well take Sean. He needs supplies.”

  Before either of them could say more, Doyle returned with three small brown sacks. “Alright, kids. I’ve got your pay. The guards awarded you a bonus for defending the town’s border.”

  “What? But we didn’t kill it,” Amelia said.

  Doyle shrugged. “The guards decided that warning them was worth something. And you survived the encounter and drove it off.”

  “You mean the cat did,” Amelia muttered.

  Doyle gave her a puzzled look. “Yes… that is the part I still don’t understand.”

  “A bonus!” Rob whooped, clearly focused on nothing but the coin. “And the special reward?”

  “Later,” Doyle said with a knowing smirk, pressing a clinking pouch into each of our hands.

  Amelia peeked into hers, then quietly pulled out a few extra coins and added them into my pouch.

  “That’s for you.”

  “For what?” I asked, taken aback.

  “Jumping in like an idiot,” she said simply. “You… didn’t have to do that.”

  “You really don’t need…” I protested.

  “Yes, I do,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “Now come on.”

  There was no arguing with her expression, earnest, determined, and already turning toward the road.