Read Online Mistress of the Wind by Michelle Diener - Free Book Online

didn’t mean to let this creature walk away.
    And the girl? Did that mean her ?
    She must have made a movement in shock, because the troll’s eyes locked with hers as she stood loose-armed beside the tree.
    “Help me,” it cried to her, and suddenly it went from looming over Bjorn to being a small, wizened man, cowering back from the massive bear, paw raised to strike.
    “What—?” Bjorn turned to look, and even on his bear face she registered his horror at the sight of her.
    The little dwarf became the monstrous thing again in a heartbeat, its huge arm swinging, the blow lifting Bjorn into the air.
    He fell with a thud that made the ground beneath her thin-soled boots shudder, and Astrid cried out, took a step to him.
    “Run!” His roar made her jerk, and she saw the massive troll strike out at him with its foot before it turned back to her.
    Bjorn lay still. She looked wildly from his strangely huddled body to the sharp black eyes of the monster. She spun on her heel, and ran.
    * * *
    It was too big to outrun, so she would have to outwit it.
    “Can you slow it down?” she whispered to the wind, wondering if it would answer. Wondering if she commanded it or whether it obliged her of its own accord.
    Behind her she heard a rush of leaves, the whistle of a strong wind, and turned to look.
    Around the troll was a whirlwind of sand, pine needles and twigs, and it was waving its hands in front of its eyes, stumbling as it was blinded.
    Astrid turned her eyes back to the path, racing up through the trees toward the mountain.
    She could hear the troll’s steps, much slowed but still coming.
    “Aaaargh.” The monster screamed in frustration and pain, blundering into trees, swiping at the air.
    If it caught her, there would be no mercy.
    There would have been no mercy anyway, she told herself. Bjorn knew it, that’s why he’d lied as he prepared to kill the thing.
    The thought of Bjorn spurred her faster. She had to reach the palace, wish up a weapon and kill the troll so she could return to help him.
    Behind her, the troll shrieked again, and Astrid reached the rocks. She began to scramble up, but her hands were slick with fear, her body heaving with exhaustion. She slipped down and sobbed as she tried again, finding the strength she needed when she felt the first sting of the whirlwind on her back. She managed to get up a little way, then ran out of handholds.
    “Help me up,” she begged the air, and at once there was support to her back, a boost just like Tomas used to give her, climbing trees. It was all she needed. Using her fingernails and her feet, she scrambled up to her ledge and swung her legs down the skylight, dropping through as the troll’s hands gripped the rocks just below.
    She slid down the ladder, not using any of the steps, her feet slamming into the ground. She stumbled forward to close the shutters, but just as her hand grasped the rod, a little dwarf fell through the ceiling and landed on her bedroom floor.
    “Help me, help me,” it laughed, then, with a look of surprise, turned back into a monster.
    “I want an ax,” she screamed to the room, but nothing appeared. “A sword.” She looked at her empty hands in disbelief. “A knife.”
    Still nothing.
    There was no magic in the room.
    She made a run for the door, but the troll beat her to it, blocking the way.
    “Are you a troll?” She started shuffling backwards to the bed.
    “Yes,” it answered. “Who are you?”
    “No one.” Astrid felt the bed against the back of her knees. She started edging right, to the side she slept on.
    “Bearman’s lady,” it said, with a twisted smile. “And Windlady.” It breathed out the last word almost reverently, and Astrid held its gaze.
    “The wind will hound you forever if you harm me. You will never be free of it.” Around her, the air stirred, fluttering her cloak, and she felt a lift of hope. It was here, awaiting her command.
    Bjorn’s magic may have deserted her, but her own