Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [89]
The younger trolls took exception to this, and attacked the chamberlain. His followers, dressed in moss and skins as he was, defended him. Not that he needed defending: the lass saw him reach out and rip the head off a young troll bravo in lavender silk without any sign of strain. Some of the trolls in human clothes ripped off their coats and gowns and joined the chamberlain, until the whole ballroom was a mass of howling, biting, snarling, wrestling trolls.
“Come on!” Asher had to shout to be heard over the din.
Ducking down, he took the lass by one arm and Tova by the other, hurrying them to one of the long windows. The centaur was already there. Turning, he kicked out with his hindquarters and shattered the panes of glass, since the latch was at troll height and none of them could have reached it.
They climbed through, the centaur waiting until Rollo had leaped out after the three humans to jump himself. Other servants were fleeing as well: a steady stream of blue-clad fauns, centaurs, pixies, and other creatures were making their way out of the golden palace and toward the southern shore of the icy island.
“What will we do about the ribbons?” The lass’s voice came in a gasp as they ran over the sharp hillocks of packed snow.
“The power is weakening,” the centaur explained. “I felt it when the queen went mad.”
With a scream, Tova collapsed. She had tripped on a protruding spur of ice. The lass knelt beside her and raised Tova’s skirt. There was a long gash in her stocking, and her shin was raw and bloody beneath it.
“And I think my ankle’s sprained,” Tova said. Then she gave a gasp and her face darkened with blood. She clawed at the ribbon around her neck.
“Cut it off!” the lass shrieked to Asher, horrified. All around them, the servants were falling to the ground, choking. The centaur went to his knees, coughing.
“It will be better to die,” he gasped.
Asher drew his belt knife and cautiously slit the ribbon around Tova’s neck. Instantly, she sat up, breathing freely. She tossed the thing aside and shouted for joy.
The lass snatched Tova’s knife and freed the centaur, then the faun who lay nearby. He in turn freed others, until all the servants were once more running for the shore, exulting.
Behind them, the mayhem of the troll palace increased. Tova shook her head. “Just leave me,” she said. “I can make my way later.”
“I can carry you,” the centaur said. He reached down and grabbed her, twisting to seat her on his broad horse back. “We need to get clear before the rest of the queen’s magic fades.”
“Why, what will happen?” the lass asked.
It was Asher who answered her. “The palace was made by magic. So was this island. As the queen’s magic fades . . .”
He didn’t need to finish. Hand in hand, the lass and her prince ran over the slick, sharp hills and hollows. Rollo was right beside them, with the centaur and Tova keeping pace.
“Ouch!” Now it was the lass’s turn to stop and cry out in pain. But it wasn’t her legs, it was her fingers. The princess’s rings were white hot. Before she could take them off the gold melted and trickled between her fingers and the gems turned to dust. There were red burns in the shape of the rings on her fingers, but they were not severe. Asher scraped up some snow to soothe the burns. The lass clutched it in her fists as they continued to run.
They did not look back until they reached the shore. By that time, the trolls’ shouts had turned to cries of pain and fear. The gold palace was melting just as the lass’s rings had. Turning red and then white with heat in the light of the pale northern sun, the magnificent palace slumped and ran like tallow.
On the shore, standing in a cluster of blue-liveried servants with her eldest brother’s true love and