A Daughter of the Trolls by McKenzie Catron EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: McKenzie Catron
- Language: English
- Genre: Children’s Sword & Sorcery Fantasy Books
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THE GLADE
My days usually begin with thwarting an attempt at kidnapping. And today
is going to be no different, because the minute I reach the center of the
glade, I find the trolls plotting.
They sit on the ground in a cluster, moss-covered backs hunched over,
heads bent together, bulbous noses practically touching the heart clutched
between the eldest troll’s palms.
“That’s not what I think it is, is it?” I push my wheelchair closer to their
gathering spot.
They glance up in alarm, scrambling to help hide their newest creation
within his large, knuckled hands. “Ah, Sparrow! My dear!” they crow in
unison.
I park my chair in front of them, careful not to edge my front wheels over
the smooth stone path and into the grass. “Come on now, let’s see it.” I cock
an eyebrow and hold out a pale hand.
The trolls all share a look, their bodies tense, hesitant. They know they’re
caught; all they have to do is admit defeat. With a huff, the eldest troll,
Bramwell, thrusts his thick arm toward me, sending a shower of dirt onto
my lap. With care, I take the heart from his green, weathered fingers. It’s
crafted from the sturdy gray twigs of an elder tree, woven to resemble the
fragile heart nestled within my human chest. I turn it over, studying every
angle, searching for the telltale glow of a golden troll charm.
Luckily, it hasn’t yet been imbued with magic. Had they succeeded in
fabricating a body for the twig heart before I happened upon them, we’d
have a little changeling babe, ready to be swapped with its identical human
counterpart. I can’t have them adding another creature to the list of ones I
already have to keep out of trouble.
The trolls tend to devote every waking hour to crafting their sons and
daughters. Yet, they barely spare a minute for the completed ones that don’t
get exchanged for a mortal child. My mother and I have kept a vigilant eye
throughout the years, making sure we don’t end up with parentless
changelings or human babes in the glade. Not only would the babies add a
heap of work for us, but the folk who live in the villages, hours away from
our secluded home, don’t take too kindly to having their babies kidnapped
or swapped for hand-cobbled faeries.
That’s not to say the changeling babies aren’t sweet wee things, they are,
but they have the same temperament as any baby, which means one second
they’re nuzzled in your arms napping and the next they’re kicking you in
the ribs and screaming bloody murder. Unfortunately, this doesn’t bode well
for the patience of timeworn trolls, and they’re quick to give up caring for
them. Thankfully, the rascals do grow up, and you can never tell the
difference between them and humans. All of the changelings the trolls had
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