Free The Strange Maid by Tessa Gratton

victorious grin.
    Like we’re teammates, or partners, Unferth tugs me under his arm, against his side, and clasps me there. I put my arm around his back, hand tentative on his hip, and we face back the way we came. Side by side. His shoulders lift and fall as he sighs with absolute satisfaction.
    Steely gray swirling clouds press low to the blackening tree line and snow falls silently, muffling the wind around us. We’re the only two people in the world.
    Unferth and I drag the cushions, shield, and troll-spear to the other side of the boulders where he’s hidden a sled. It all stacks easily, secured by bungee cords, and we each take a rein to drag it like a pair of workhorses. Snow falls harder as we go, but there’s a gravel path this way, narrow and curving widely back toward the meadery. I wish for gloves immediately, and a hood and scarf as I bend into the snow. The wisps of hair loose from my braids freeze to my neck and forehead, and the only thing keeping me warm is the rough work of pulling the sled. We don’t speak, our hot breath puffing in rhythm. I lose track of time but for night falling. The wind blows harder and my legs shake from effort and there’s as much sweat streaking down my back as snow dripping down my face. My skull beings to throb.
    A low moan, like a distant horn, calls out to us. Elf-kisses draw up my spine: we are too close to home, too far from Montreal.
    Unferth stops and swings a hand out to stop me, too. “That’s not the twilight call.”
    I blink snow from my eyes and reach for my seax. “What is it?”
    His chin is up, eyes on the sky, and when the call repeats I see the tight line of his mouth, the shift of muscles at his jaw. “Danger.” He drops the rein with one sharp shake of his head and jerks his hand for me to follow as he pushes on faster. I struggle to catch up. Unferth grabs my coat at the shoulder, bunching it in his fist to keep us together.
    The meadery rises through the trees at the end of the gravel road, black and leaning on one side. I never noticed from the front. That low moan calls again, louder and right here. It sounds as if the cry echoes from lungs as large and cavernous as the hollowed-out building. Unferth pulls me close and says into my ear, “Go to the truck and get the UV light from the glove compartment. Meet me at the front door.”
    Snow topples onto me when I tug open the passenger door, and I shake it off to dig into the narrow glove compartment. There’s a wide-faced flashlight that must be the UV. I grab it in stiff fingers and head for the door. It’s hanging open, half off the hinges. Unferth is a lithe shadow waiting there, and he nods, points to the button that will turn on the light, and again leans close to whisper in my ear. His breath is warm and all my nerves crystallize into hot, bright excitement at its touch against my neck.
    “I’ll go first and you follow right after. Be ready to turn it on, and aim for the face. If we blind it—calcify the eyes—it won’t be able to defend itself. I’m going to go for the lockbox in the cellar and my sword. You calcify as much as possible and stay out of its way. Understand?”
    I nod.
    With no further warning, Unferth slips inside.
    I follow. The roar comes fast, tripping me as if it’s a physical force. I roar back without thinking and flip on the flashlight.
    The spear of light scours over the wall and flies across part of the ceiling, bobbing everywhere as I spin, and there! It catches the edge of a bulbous shoulder and I go to my knees as a huge arm swipes for me. I jerk the light up, pinning the spot of it onto the rageful face of a greater mountain troll.
    It stumbles back, shaking the floorboards, and cries again, this time high-pitched. I immediately think, It’s terrified.
    Knees burning from the broken glass I landed on, I stand, training the light on the hulking black shadow of the troll.
    It hides its face with one hand, still backing up, messily, heavily. I follow. Under