“Good,” I nodded. “You know we only have a few days until the Vittra will come.”
“Yes,” Finn said. “We will work overtime until then.”
“Don’t overwork them,” I said.
“I will try not to.”
“And…” I paused, thinking of exactly how I wanted to phrase it. “If they can’t do it, if you don’t honestly believe they stand a chance against the Vittra, do not let them fight.”
“They stand a chance,” Finn said, slightly offended.
“No, Finn, listen to me.” I stopped and touched his arm, so he would stop and face me. His dark eyes still smoldered with something, but I refused to acknowledge it. “If our Trylle army cannot win against the Vittra, do not send them to fight. I will not let them all go on a suicide mission. Do you understand?”
“Some lives will be lost, Princess,” Finn answered cautiously.
“I know,” I admitted, hating that it was true. “But it is only worth losing some lives if we can win, otherwise the lives were lost for nothing.”
“What do you propose we do then?” Finn asked. “If the troops aren’t ready to fight the Vittra, what will you have us do?”
“You will do nothing,” I said. “I will take care of this.”
“Wendy,” Matt said. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I started walking again, and they followed more slowly behind me. “I will handle things if it comes to that, but until then, we will continue with the plan. We will ready ourselves for war.”
I marched ahead, walking faster so I didn’t have to argue with Matt or Finn. Both of them wanted to protect me, but they couldn’t. Not anymore.
On the way to the library, we went past the ballroom. Finn went inside to finish the training, and I glanced in. All the trackers were sitting on the floor in a semi-circle around Tove and Loki. They were both talking, explaining what would need to be done.
“Should I go in with them?” Duncan asked, gesturing to the room of trackers.
“No.” I shook my head. “You come with me.”
“Are you sure?” Duncan asked, but he followed me down to the library. “Shouldn’t I be learning how to fight with the rest of them?”
“You won’t be fighting with the rest of them,” I replied simply.
“Why not?” Duncan asked. “I’m a tracker.”
“You’re my tracker,” I said. “I need you with me.” Before he could argue, I turned my attention to my brother. “Matt, we’re looking for books that have anything in them about the Vittra. We need to find their weaknesses.”
“Okay.” He looked around at ceiling-high shelves filled with books. “Where do I start?”
“Pretty much anywhere,” I said. “I’ve barely made a dent in these books.”
Matt climbed one of the ladders to reach the books at the top, and Duncan dutifully went along to start collecting books for himself.
While the history of the Vittra was interesting at times, it was irritating how little we knew about stopping them. So much of the Trylle past had been about avoiding them and making concessions. We’d actually never stood up to them.
By all accounts, Oren was the cruelest King the Vittra had had in centuries, maybe ever. He’d slaughtered the Trylle for sport and executed his own people for simply disagreeing with him. Loki was lucky to even be alive.
“What’s this say?” Matt asked. “It doesn’t even look like words.” He was sitting on one of the chairs on the far side of the room, and he pointed to the open book on his lap.
“Oh that?” Duncan was nearest to him, so he got up and leaned over Matt, looking at the book. “That’s Tryllic. It’s our old language to keep secrets from the Vittra.”
“A lot of the older stuff is written in Tryllic,” I said, but I didn’t get up. I’d found a passage about the Long Winter’s War, and I hoped it would give me something useful.
“What does it say?” Matt asked.
“Um, this one says… something about an ‘orm,’” Duncan said, squinting as he read the text. He didn’t know very much Tryllic, but since he spent so much time researching with me, he’d picked up some.
“What?” I lifted my head, thinking at first that he’d said Oren.
“Orm,” Duncan repeated. “It’s like a snake.” He tapped the pages and straightened up. “I don’t think this will be helpful. It’s a book of old fairy tales.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“We grew up hearing these stories,” Duncan shrugged and sat back down in his chair. “I’ve heard that one a hundred times.”
“What is it?” I pressed. Something about that word, orm, stuck with me.
“It’s supposed to explain how trolls came to be,” Duncan said. “The reason we split up in different tribes. Each of the tribes is represented by a different animal. The Kanin are rabbits, the Omte are birds, the Skojare are fish, the Trylle are foxes, and the Vittra are tigers, or sometimes lions, depending on who tells the story.”
The Kanin, Omte, and Skojare were the other three tribes of trolls, like the Trylle and Vittra. I’d never met any of them. From what I understood, only the Kanin were still doing reasonably well, but they hadn’t thrived as much as the Trylle or even the Vittra. The Skojare were all but extinct.