“And you are his forerunner.” The Regent’s voice was bitter. “Here to prepare the Isle to receive its new king.”

Tristan shook his head. “I’m here to fight with you, and with your help, to take the crown from my father. To find a way for your kind and mine to live in peace, and to protect you from those who would see a return to the days of old when humans were our slaves.”

I watched as the crowd exchanged worried whispers, and my heart sank. We didn’t have time for this – the trolls were free, and too few of those here understood the magnitude of their threat. Roland, Angoulême, and Lessa – they were coming…

“Why should we trust you?” the Regent demanded. “I know your kind. I know your ways.”

“Because I am your only hope,” Tristan replied. “You are not fighting for dominion over this Isle or even for your own sovereignty. When they come, you will be fighting for only one thing – survival.”

In the distance, the horns blared once more.

They were coming, and I had no idea how we’d stop them.