The three klops hauled Cyrus down the stone steps and passed a largeiron casket propped upright against a blood-stained wall. Chains, ropes andpulleys hung from the ceiling. A frozen tub of water lay at the rear of theroom.
“What are yougoing to do to me?” Cyrus shouted.
His breath wasvapor.
“Shut yourmouth,” the helmeted jailer shrieked.
He punchedCyrus in the nose.
Cyrus’ visionexploded into stars. Then a fizzling pain erupted between his eyes. The third klops, a chalky-fleshed creature, shoved Cyrus to the floorand began to pull off his boots. The numbing sensation in Cyrus’ face slowlyshifted to a throbbing ache. Blood filled his nostrils.
Together, thethree klops stripped Cyrus of his furs and forced himinto a large wooden chair, clearly meant for a yeti’s hulking frame. Thevillains smelled of dung and coal. Cyrus watched through swollen eyes as theyused thick leather straps to secure his hands and feet to the seat.
“What’s goingon? What is this place?” Cyrus asked.
He tastedsalty iron in the back of his throat. The shorter captor buried his fist in Cyrus’belly. Cyrus spat blood. He struggled to suck cold air back into his lungs.
“Leave him,” Agulha commanded.
Cyrus strainedto look towards the entrance. The tall weedy klopsdescended the stairs, wrapped in his tattered brown robes.
“You three,tend the fire,” the councilor ordered.
His face waslong and drawn, and he had lengthy whiskers, like a catfish, growing from thecorners of his wrinkled mouth.
The three klops began to snicker as they shuffled over to thefireplace. Cyrus fought against his leather bonds, trying to slip his handsfree.
“Why are youhere?” Agulha asked, his tone conversational.
The three klops leaped back from the flaring furnace, oil in hand. Thefire erupted into an inferno. The stench of kerosene filled the dungeon.
“To find a newhome,” Cyrus said, limiting the truth.
Agulha moved to the north end of the chamber and stood beside the frozen tub ofwater. He removed his brown robe and draped it over a large wooden bed. The bedhad ropes and winches on either side. Beneath, Agulhawas dressed in stitched leather pants and a leather tunic. He extracted an icepick from the wall and began to stab viciously at the ice.
“I wouldrather you cooperated and avoided all the unpleasantness of this room,” Agulha said.
“I’m tellingthe truth,” Cyrus sputtered, the blood beginning to ebb from his nose, “I comefrom a small island. It’s collapsing and will soon fall into the sea. I’ve cometo find a new home. That’s all.”
Agulha picked up a wooden pail from beside the tub and drew water from beneaththe ice.
“What happenedto your hune, alveling?”
Cyrus’ mindstumbled. Why was Agulha asking this? Did he suspectCyrus of his need for the giant turtle? Had Moro talked? Had Edward?
Cyrus said nothing.Agulha charged forward and doused Cyrus in freezingliquid.
“Aaahhh!”
The windleaped from Cyrus’ lungs.
“You willanswer me, boy!” Agulha shrieked, clutching Cyrus bythe jaw.
Cyrus squirmedin his chair, struggling to regain his breath.
“D- dead. It’sdead. For a l- long time, dead. That’s why I left.”
“And the blodbad?” Agulha asked.
“H- He’s myfriend.”
Agulha ripped Cyrus’ woolen underwear from neck to belly. Then he motioned tothe three klops. The scoundrels scooped a bucket ofsteaming water from the cauldron.
“No! What areyou doing?” Cyrus shrieked.
The chalky klops heaved the scolding water onto Cyrus’ chest. Hisflesh seared and his muscles thrashed.
“Stop! I’m tellingthe truth,” he screamed.
Agulha motioned the guards back. All three giggled with delight.
“Blodbad are no friends to alvelings,”Agulha said.
Cyrus lookeddown at his body. His skin was red, blotchy and raw.
“He’s n- not ablodbad, not really. He’s the last of his kind. Hegrew up all by himself. I raised him, I guess. Everything he knows, he learnedfrom me.”
Agulha’s bulbous eyes flashed to the doorway. Cyrus twisted his head,following his gaze. The queen stood, shrouded in silk, watching just beyond theentrance.
“The yeti thatwas captured with you,” Agulha said, “where did youfind her? Where are her kin hiding?”
Cyrus’ headreeled. He could not give up the others.
“I- I don’tknow what you’re talking about…”
Agulha picked up a metal bar. He hefted it in his bony hands, then struck Cyrusacross the shins.
“Aaaahh!”
Cyrus began tosob. His whole being was wracked with frozen agony.
“Why do youlie to me, boy?”
The councilorgrasped Cyrus by his mousy blond locks.
“Why act sofoolish? What you do not tell me, the blodbad or theyeti will. Or they won’t, and you’ll all suffer the same agonizing deaths.”
“I’m not lying,”Cyrus whimpered.
Agulha threw Cyrus’ head against the chair’s thick back and walked towards thetub of water.
“No, wait,”Cyrus pleaded.
Agulha drew another bucket of ice water. He threw it over Cyrus.
“Noooo!”
Cyrus gulpedfor breath. His body began to shake uncontrollably. The councilor nodded to thethree fiends. They scooped another jug of water from the steaming cauldron and pouredit over Cyrus’ head.
“Aahhhhh!”
Cyrus twistedinstinctively, the burning driving like a spike into his core.
“Please let mego,” he cried.
“No one comesto a frozen wasteland in search of a new home,” Agulhaspat, “And even if one did, how could they make it past the Warrior Witch unaided?”
“WarriorWitch?” Cyrus asked, cringing.
“Do youpretend not to know of whom I speak?”
Cyrus staredinto Agulha’s misshapen face. He tried to gain asense of his thoughts. He looked back at the queen.
“Yes, the SeaZombie. I know who you mean,” Cyrus sighed, sucking back tears, “She capturedme about a month and a half ago, but she hadn’t counted on Edward, the spider,I mean.”
“What are you talkingabout, child?” the queen demanded, stepping into the room.
“That’s how heturned white. He bit and poisoned the Sea Zombie. He saved my life, but in theprocess, he swallowed her blood and became poisoned himself. I set fire to hership and we sailed off, leaving her for dead.”
Cyrus preyedthey would believe the half-truth. The queen walked into the chamber, acrossthe room and crouched down in front of Cyrus. She took Cyrus’ left wrist andspread out his hand.
“What are youdoing?” he asked, trying to wriggle free.
“Is what yousay the truth?” she asked.
Her voice had thatstrange trill.
“Yes, I swear,”Cyrus said.
She grippedhis pinky. Then she broke it, bending it back over his hand.
“Stop!” Cyrusshrieked.
The sensationof bone and cartilage snapping felt wrong in a way that Cyrus had onlyexperienced once before. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to scream for Niels.
“Do
