THE OBSIDIAN MAN by Jon Wilson
All his life, Holt has dreamed of leaving his life of drudgery to join the legendary Danann, a mysterious race of rangers and magicians. When trolls threaten his village, he sees his chance in the arrival of Kawika, a handsome ranger sent for protection. But things take a deadly turn when a demon appears, leading an army of horrible creatures. The village goes up in flames, Kawika vanishes, and Holt finds himself wandering lost and alone in the wilderness.Rescued by the Danann, Holt suffers both physical and psychic scars. However, Kawika’s lover, Keone, hopes to use that connection to track and destroy the demon responsible for the attack.
Unfortunately, the link works both ways -- Keone can track through it, and the demon can use it to invade Holt’s mind. As the pursuit continues, Holt’s sanity begins to slip away. Gradually the realization dawns that instead of helping Keone defeat the demon, he may be leading them both into the demon’s deadly trap.
He skidded to a halt at the foot of the open doors, staring down into the darkness. The angle and the moonlight showed him nothing but one of the ranger's feet, lying motionless, pale, just inches from the bottom of the stair. He began to tremble.
Maybe it was more villagers. Maybe they had come in the interval between his two visits. Maybe they were down there cowering in the darkness, too afraid even to greet a fellow human when he stumbled onto them. Or maybe it was a troll. After fighting the great black creature, even a troll did not seem unconquerable.
How ridiculously arrogant he found himself. How could he, Holt, a thirteen-year-old boy, fight a troll? Trolls had killed Varley and Roef and Baton. A troll had killed his mother. And even staring at Kawika's foot, he knew all of that didn't even begin to matter because there were no other footprints around but his own.
He heard a dull slosh he realized was the hoe falling to the snow. He was stepping into the cellar, descending the stairs, continuing to gaze only at the foot. He had to get Kawika out. He could not leave him there, sitting helplessly in the dark with that awful thing. Crouching on the lowest step, he reached gently toward Kawika's ankle. He realized the ranger must have fallen because he could no longer make out the man’s shape against the shelving. He grasped the ankle, felt another cold wallop against his diaphragm -- so cold. So cold and something else. He tugged the ankle and immediately knew. Even before he saw the tattered flesh and the jagged, splintered bone -- the tattered flesh and the jagged, splintered bone -- white as white in the moonlight -- and nothing more.
The darkness seemed to swell between the shelves. A great rustling sound and the horrible, black face was stretching toward him. "Looking for this?"
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