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Toby wasn’t the only one to notice. Spotting Violet for the first time, a swathe of nearby elves held their collective breath as she disappeared under the Yule Lad’s coat. For several moments, the changeling shifted, his shoulders undulating as he scrambled to secure the kill. Then he stopped.
Tristan arrived first and grabbed hold of the Yule Lad’s shoulders, screaming something in a language Toby didn’t recognise. Shock gutted Toby and he stopped resisting Trapp’s grip. The wind was torn from his lungs in one great exodus and he found himself choking. Then he sucked in a great gulp of air and screamed.
Trapp cackled his rasping laugh.
‘You see, boy? You see how much fun this can be?’
Toby ignored him, instead watching Tristan drag the Yule Lad’s body off Violet and toss it aside.
