Page 22 of Hallowed & Haunted

“What makes you think that?”

“Because its dwelling place is near, isn’t it? I didn’t make the connection right away, but I was on the other side of the lake this past summer for soil sampling. There are relics of ancient buildings above the treeline.”

“A stállu site.”

“Yes, that’s what Professor Lindalen said they were called. The remains of several buildings; I hiked right through them.”

“Yeah, I know the place.”

“Is that why you volunteered to accompany me tonight? Because you knew what we might face?”

Niillas doesn’t have the heart to deny Sander’s assumption.

“I couldn’t let you come alone.”

“Even though you think I’m reckless and stupid.”

Sander’s voice takes on a self-deprecating edge, and Niillas can’t help but pet his hair some more to ease the sting of it.

“I never thought you were stupid. Reckless, yes. But brave. Too clever for your own good, if anything.”

Sander huffs a laugh against his chest.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but too clever isn’t one of them.”

“You thought this would be a good way to keep the defense in line, especially Henrik. What’s one uncomfortable night compared to a successful season, am I right?”

“Henrik is an undisciplined ass. So yeah, maybe I thought—”

The barking of a dog makes Sander flinch. The sound comes from outside, loud and angry.

“What the actual fuck?”

“Karo,” Sander says, eyes wide with rekindled fear.

“Who?”

“Marta’s dog. She said it barked at the troll.”

“She may have gone outside to investigate,” Niillas says. The story makes a sick kind of sense. “And the troll caved her head in.”

The temperature in the room drops, and Sander shivers against him. Marta is still nearby. Niillas can sense her cold presence lingering at the edge of his awareness. And outside, the stállu is moving among the trees, its smell tickling Niillas’ nose from time to time. The barking certainly lures it closer to the house, just like the night it killed Marta, which is probably why she sent her dog out in the first place. To make Sander desperate enough to come to her. Vengeful bitch.

“You need to eat something,” Niillas decides, reaching for Jonas’ forgotten picnic basket. “Your body needs fuel to warm up.”

He needs Sander as resilient and alert as possible, and he needs Sander’s trust if it comes to the worst.

“I’m not hungry,” his captain complains predictably.

“Good thing that I didn’t ask if you were hungry then,” Niillas counters, both out of frustration and the need to find out whether Sander will defer to his authority if he acts boldly enough.

He unwraps a granola bar and pushes it into Sander’s hand.

“Eat,” he orders.

And Sander does. No further protest, only breaking the bar in two and returning one piece right back to Niillas. Warmth spreads through Niillas’ belly. He uncaps a bottle of juice and offers it to Sander.

“This too.”