“Meat’s tootough,” Heslig said.
The troll hadgrease smeared across his craggy, bark-like skin.
“Should’ve poundedit, like ya did mine,” Styglcomplained, holding up a fractured bone of stringy meat.
The three trollssat in a triangle, on logs around the fire. Cyrus and Tier rested between Stygl and Grim. Cyrus stared at the scabby claw marks etchedacross Tier’s broad back.
“Stop yoursquabbling and eat up,” Grim ordered, “We gots anearly morning tomorrow.”
The troll ate theklops heart like a grape. Purple blood squirted downhis mouth and into his beard.
Slowly, Cyrusrolled onto his left shoulder and tried to pull free of his bonds. Were he andTier really going to be roasted on a spit? Cyrus could not let that happen.
He pulled at thethick twine. It was tied so tight that his hands and feet tingled.
“What if the klops queen comes for us?” Hesligasked, crunching on a narrow bone.
“She won’t,” Stygl said, wiping his mouth on the back of his knobbyhand, “This ain’t the first klopswe’ve picked off.”
“But what ifshe does this time?” Heslig replied, “We ain’t never taken one of her road guard before. They reportregular, don’t they? When this one doesn’t check in, ain’tthey gonna come lookin’?”
“If they come lookin’” Grim said, “We run. We don’t want no part of thatqueen, or her sorcery. You’ve seen what she’s done to those klops.Pure evil, that one is.”
Cyrus’ jawtightened. The queen, a sorcerer? Pure evil? This sounded like Rorroh all over again, but this time he did not have dragon’sblood. What had he gotten himself into?
Stygl picked up Tier’s rifle and began to tinker with the weapon.
“What’s it do,breakfast? Or would you prefer I call you lunch?”
Tier ignoredthe troll’s taunt.
“They’re notplaythings,” Heslig said, “they’re food. Leave ‘em alone, or you’ll sour the meat.”
Chunks ofcooked klops dangled from the large troll’s underbite.
“Were yougoing to stab us, or beat us with it?” Stygl asked,spying down the rifle’s barrel.
“Put that downbefore you get hurt,” Grim shouted.
Stygl peered at the weapon’s trigger. He fingered the lever ever so slightly.It wiggled like a loose tooth. The troll pointed the muzzle at Tier’s head.Cyrus’ skin prickled. He tried to roll away from Tier’s side. Stygl pulled the trigger.
CLICK.
Nothinghappened.
“Stupidbauble, ain’t it?” the troll said, shaking the gun.
“I said putthat down,” Grim barked, tearing a foot off the roast water klops.
Stygl fumbled with the rifle’s locking mechanism.
“Ay, lunch,what’s this do?” the troll asked, thumbing the hammer.
BANG!
The cannonbucked in Stygl’s lap. Black soot clouded the troll’seyes.
“Damn you, I toldyou to leave it,” Grim shouted.
He flung the klops foot at Stygl’s head.
A large groan,mixed with a burp, gurgled from Heslig’s throat. Thenthe largest of the three trolls collapsed to his side. The creature’s heavyhead crashed to the snow in front of Cyrus and Tier. Both had to curl up toavoid being struck by the large twiggy skull. Blood dripped from Heslig’s blistered lips. Cyrus stared, mouth gaping, intothe troll’s unmoving eyes. Grim and Stygl looked over,their faces pale.
“Heslig?” Stygl whispered, cockinghis head and leaning closer.
Grim stood upand moved to Heslig’s side.
“What’s this?”
The trollcrouched down and touched his partner’s chest. Red blood stained Grim’s muddy fingers.
“You idiot,he’s dead.”
Stygl jumped from his seat and kicked the rifle away.
“Yeti magic,”he snarled.
“I told younot to toy with that thing.”
Grim marchedover the fire, searing his backside, and began to beat Styglwith a stick.
“Look whatyou’ve done. Now there’s only two of us left.”
He struck Stygl with fore and backhand blows. Styglcowered on the ground, whimpering. Grim began to huff and wheeze. He droppedthe stick, and with his hands on his knees, gathered his breath.
Cyrus staredat the strange scene. The two brutes seemed to turn as still as stone, as theymourned their forever-lost friend. Then both trolls turned and considered thefallen giant.
“Well…” Grimsaid, picking up the tossed klops foot.
He waded overto his stump and slumped down his hulking frame.
“Don’t justlay there feeling sorry for yourself. It ain’tcannibal if they’re already dead. Gut and clean ‘em.”
Stygl’s face twisted into a wrinkled grin.
Chapter 13
CAMPFIRE TALES
CYRUS AWOKE HUNGRY and sore. Before him laysnow-covered rocks, and beyond the rocks rested a forest of powder-cakedevergreens. The morning sky sagged with gray clouds, and a nearby fire crackledsmoky and hot.
“Heslig would have wanted it this way,” Styglsaid.
The troll wassomewhere behind Cyrus, talking through a mouth full of food.
Sizzling fatand roasted moss tainted the crisp, winter air.
“I’ll rememberthat when it’s your time,” Grim said.
Cyrus hadhoped it was all a bad dream. He felt a large shaggy mass shift behind him.
“Inbredswine,” Tier growled.
Again, Cyrusstrained against the coarse rope.
“What is yourkind doing back in these parts?” the yeti demanded, “My grandfather drove youoff east a generation ago.”
“Murdered ourwoman and children, they did,” Stygl whined, “Nowthere’s only two of us left.”
“We heard thestories as children,” Tier said, “Stories of trolls that would wed theircousins, aunts, brothers, sisters, it did not matter. Stories of gluttonous oafsthat would hunt the forest bare, feasting on whatever they could find. Wholeherds of moose and deer would vanish in a season, leaving the wolves to starveand become crazed. We were told of trolls that would hide in the woods, inplain sight, and make off with our children.”
Cyrus couldfeel the tension in Tier’s muscles. He strained to turn his head. The twotrolls sat around the campfire, turning their roasted friend over a spit. Thefire crackled and flared with the dripping fat from Heslig’scarcass.
“We ran out offood, and were forced back west,” Grim said, eating a chubby toe like an apple,“When we found you lot taken prisoner, and unable to defend these lands, wethought, well, that solves that problem. The queen’s a nasty piece of work, butshe usually leaves us well enough alone.”
“How did youescape the camp anyways?” Stygl asked.
“Who?” Cyrusreplied.
“You two ofcourse.”
“What camp?”Tier demanded.
“In themountains above,” Grim said, “All those yeti workin’away, day and night. Become slaves to klops? Pathetic.”
“They’re stillalive,” Tier said, hope in her deep voice.
“That queengives me the creeps,” Stygl said, biting into a thickshoulder, “Eating children is one thing, but newborn hatchlings? There’s aspecial hell for her kind.”
“She’s evil,that’s for certain,” Grim added, “It makes my bones
