Free The Prodigal Troll by Charles Coleman Finlay Page B

here," he said. A small flat-bottomed boat leaned against the back wall of the cottage. He gestured to Yvon. "You take that end and we'll carry it down to the river."
    It was more awkward than heavy. Yvon's feet slid on the muddy bank, but he stayed upright until they set the boat down. The river flowed out of the mountains, swollen with meltwater, though in the summer it might be only waist-deep.
    "I don't see any demons," he said hopefully.
    "They sleep along the bottom," explained Banya. "This ford is as high as they swim on the river. You'll see them rise suddenly sometimes, in places where you swear there were none, to snap at the birds. Wait here, while I go fetch my pole."
    Xaragitte stood high up on the bank, away from the water's edge. She was no more eager than Yvon to face any demon.
    Banya returned, carrying a pole as tall as Baron Culufre's armored mammut and leading a goat by a leash. "What's that for?" Yvon asked him. "Will you feed it to the demon?"
    "No, it's for you," he said. "Someone gave it to me as payment for helping with her daughter's wedding. But the damn thing keeps me awake all night. You might use the meat, once you find a spot to stay in for a while."
    Yvon's mouth watered at the thought; Xaragitte said, "Oh, thank you!"
    Banya hummed his song as they positioned the craft on the river's edge and loaded the goat aboard. It bleated and kicked the side of the craft, rocking it. They coaxed Xaragitte to come down and sit in the middle.
    "Have you ever been in a boat before?" Yvon asked her quietly, not daring to interrupt the wizard's song.
    She shook her head. Her face had blanched white, pale as the moon; her hair framed it, the color of dawn on the clouds.
    "Sit very still then and you'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about with a wizard along." He smiled, and hoped his grin wasn't too ghastly. Then he took his spot in the small boat's bow. "We're ready," he told Banya.
    Singing aloud now in an eerie rhythmic chant, the wizard shoved the craft offshore, wading knee-deep before he climbed aboard. The current pushed the boat downstream, so that even while Banya thrust his pole quickly and expertly they did not go straight across.
    Halfway to the other side, the goat stamped its feet in complaint. "Maaaa! "
    An incandescent glow, as long as the boat, surfaced nearby. Xaragitte gasped as it slithered across the watertop.
    "Don't look directly at it," Yvon hissed. "They can bewitch you in a fingersnap."
    She squeezed her eyes shut and cowered protectively around the baby. Which showed she had more sense than Yvon, because he couldn't take his eyes off the monster. His hand drifted to his sword. You could kill a demon with a sword-or any other weapon-if your will stayed free long enough to use it. And if you dared the wrath of the gods.
    Two more luminous serpentine trails curled toward them. Then the morning sun bloomed suddenly over the ridge, transforming the surface of the water from polished black to liquid light in a blink. Yvon lost all sight of the demons and started scanning the river frantically to find them.
    Far away, he heard Banya chanting round in circles; Yvon's thoughts spun in circles too, his hand gripped convulsively on the hilt of his weapon.
    Something tapped him on the back.
    He found himself staring transfixed over the edge of the boat into the scaly face of a demon. Its hooded head swayed on a thick-muscled neck that protruded well out of the water. The sawtoothed mouth gaped and closed, slit eyes piercing Yvon's soul. As he drew back in revulsion, the flat nostrils flared on either side of the axe-shaped head. Yvon's own nose choked on the demon's sickly sweet scent.
    Something hit him hard between the shoulder blades.
    He looked up. Banya, still singing, had smacked him with the pole. They had reached the far bank, and the wizard wanted him to leap out and pull the boat ashore. Yvon yanked his gaze away from the demon, crabbed his way around Xaragitte, and splashed