Perhaps the candy cane smelled too sweet to resist. A young troll was poking out from the depths, unable to withstand the temptation. It was less than a third the size of an adult, with paler skin and a moist film over its surface, as though it had just emerged from some enveloping liquid.
Its eyes were larger than an adult's, its pupils disproportionately large, and the light they reflected beneath the moon had an unnatural fluorescent blue sheen. When it saw Goyle, it opened its mouth and let out a thin, shrill hiss, as though waiting for him to feed it.
Goyle moved the candy cane to his left hand. Once his right hand was free, his fingers naturally curled into claws, his knuckles protruding slightly. A bronze sheen surfaced over his joints, similar to Crabbe's but thinner.
He took another step into the cave.
That shrill hiss reached the adult troll's ears. The troll whose wrist Crabbe had seized could no longer spare any attention for the wound in its throat. It whipped its head around, a deep, muffled vibration rising from its throat, almost a roar.
It abandoned its struggle with Crabbe, violently wrenching its trapped arm back toward itself as it lunged toward Goyle, trying to drive him away from the cave entrance.
But Crabbe's weight hampered its attempt to pull back-even when the tug lifted both his feet off the ground, Crabbe refused to let go. His body traced an arc through the air before landing again, his boot heels scraping two parallel grooves through the gravel.
"Hahaha! Want to get past me, big guy? You're not going anywhere until you beat me!" Brack shouted. His bulging right arm abruptly tightened, the bronze sheen spreading from his elbow across the front of his forearm. Even