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The troll’s daemon is watching Jeckran: a disgruntled-looking wolverine with massive paws crowned with claws like sickles. This is the closest Jeckran’s ever been to a troll’s daemon—one of those creatures that are supposed to be a manifestation of a troll’s spirit or something like that, but which street corner preachers call fiends from hell that trolls bind to themselves by dark arts—the only other time he’s seen a daemon face to face being when that troll ripped through his men like a hurricane, a grizzly bear as tall as him roaring by his side.
“That’s El,” Tsira says. “She won’t bite your hand off.”