“No!” Cyruscried.
He watched inhelpless misery as Vinter collapsed to the ground.
“No,” Fibian echoed.
Cyrus lookedtowards from where the noise had come. Behind the frontline archers, LieutenantKnavish stood, hunch-backed, on a large rock, above his troops. He held a black,oily rifle, similar to Tier’s, in his four-fingered hands.
Fibian stabbed a klops in the neck, stripped him ofhis crossbow, and fired it at the lieutenant. Knavish ducked low, narrowly avoidingthe projectile, and abandoned his perch.
“We must help Vinter,” Cyrus shouted.
He pulled hismask off and dropped his disguise. He began to cleave his way through the lineof smaller klops with reckless haste. The villainsfell in twos and threes. Cyrus reached the front line. Seven batalha surrounded him. There was nowhere to run.
“What in Kingdomis this?” one of them shouted.
“I don’t know,but we best kill it,” another said.
Cyrus slashed attheir bellies. The brutes kept their distance. They stabbed at Cyrus with rangythrusts. Their black blades glistened with poison. A barrel-chested batalha grew overzealous and left his right leg exposed.Cyrus hacked with a desperate blow, taking the limb off at the knee.
“Gaahhh!”
The strikethrew Cyrus off balance and he fell forward. Two more batalhareached out and grabbed Cyrus by the arms. They held him kicking and squirmingoff the ground.
“Do him!” oneof the batalha shouted.
“Release him!”Cyrus heard Fibian’s voice shout.
There wassomething strange about the froskman’s voice. Itsounded almost feminine. Fibian stood before the six batalha, unmasked, and with one eye shut.
“My Queen?”one of the batalha asked, looking unsure.
The restlowered their weapons, confused.
With theirguards down, Cyrus kicked and pulled free of the two batalha.Fibian cast his blade at the nearest brute, stickinghim in the throat. He leaped at the second in line and drove his mechanical handrepeatedly into the beast’s face.
Cyrus pickedup his sword and chopped at his captor’s feet. The two klopsleaped away, favoring their missing toes. Cyrus looked to Fibian.The froskman stood panting over his unmoving foe. Hisartificial arm dripped with purple blood.
The remainingfour batalha stood before Cyrus and Fibian, broadswords in hand. The creature’s faces were grimand grizzled.
“You ain’t the Queen,” one said.
“You’ll payfor what you’ve both done,” another said, spitting in the snow.
Together, allfour raised their swords.
Thwack,Thwack, Thwack, Thwack!
The klops’ heads were knocked off their bodies and flew into thenight. Their frames crashed to the earth. Behind them stood a massive blackyeti with a graying beard. The giant saw Fibian inthe slush. He swung his steel club overhead.
“We’refriends!” Cyrus shouted.
The clubthundered down and crashed to the earth. Fibiannarrowly dodged the blow.
“We are here tohelp,” he yelled, holding his hands up in surrender.
“That’s nowater klops,” an older, hunch-backed yeti said.
Cyrusrecognized him from Dr. Lege’s tent.
“It is thestranger that held council with the elders. The one that told us of ourfamilies, hidden away in the forest. He is the reason we are fighting.”
Beside thehunch-backed elder, another giant strode forward. It was Ungur,holding two broadswords. She saw Cyrus and her eyes shifted about. Cyrus’ bloodboiled. He pictured Tier, dead within the dungeon. Ungurhad betrayed them. She had caused Tier’s death and Edward’s capture. He couldnot kill her here. It would cause too much confusion and infighting.
The black yetigrunted his annoyance and waged further into the klops’line. Ungur and the elder followed. Cyrus watched thetraitor leave. She dared not look back. When all this was through, Cyrus wouldhave his revenge. Twelve more battle-frenzied yeti stormed past.
“Vinter,” Fibian said.
He sprang to hisfeet and dashed across the smoking battlefield. Cyrus followed.
Arrows dartedoverhead. Wounded klops crawled through the slush.Cyrus and Fibian found Vinterlying in the snow, a bloody hole in his chest.
“Vinter, are you all right?” Fibianasked, kneeling at his side.
The giantlooked to Fibian, then Cyrus, his face pained andweary.
“Ah, thestrangers who brought us our Tier,” he whispered, “You escaped, little one, andwhat ofTier?”
Cyrus felttears rise. He gently shook his head no. Vintergrimaced. He groped at his wound. It was near his heart. The injury was fatal.The white yeti closed his eyes and swallowed thickly.
“Is what youand Tier said really true?” he asked, “Are our families safe?”
“Yes, all ofthem,” Fibian said.
Vinter grinned, relaxing into the snow.
“That isgood,” he breathed.
Cyrus brushedthe yeti’s fur from his eyes.
“They’reretreating into the main hall,” a deep yeti voice shouted.
Cyrus lookedup. The two yeti lines were converging into one. The giants had forced theenemy to open the great hall. The yeti battered the klopsback within the massive steel doors.
“Do not letthem close the gates,” another yeti ordered.
“The water klops are disengaging,” Fibian saidto Vinter, “You have done it.”
Vinter did not answer. Cyrus looked down. Fibiancupped the giant’s face and gently shook his head.
“Vinter?”
Nothing. Heput his head to the yeti’s chest.
“Vinter…”
The gustybreath had ceased within.
“He is gone,” Fibian said, rising, “He is the reason the elders listened.He is the reason they began to revolt.”
Again, Cyrusthought of Agulha, the queen, General Morte and Ungur. Tier and Vinter were dead because of them. Edward was captured andin danger because of them. Cyrus had nearly been murdered because of them.
“They won’tget away with this,” he growled.
A grindingmoan rolled through the quarry, as the hall doors closed to a crack. Two explosionsdetonated in the cliffs.
“The tunnelleading to the cliff cannons!” Cyrus said.
“The queen hascollapsed them,” Fibian replied, “It is what I wouldhave done.”
Cyrus punchedthe earth.
The klops fell into full retreat, battling against one anotherto squirm back within the breach. The yeti gave chase but were unable to hinderthe door’s progress. The gates shut with a thunderous crash, echoing throughoutthe mine. A handful of villains were cut off outside. The yeti slaughtered themas they beat desperately against the iron doors.
“We need a wayin,” the black yeti shouted, “We must finish them off while we have the advantage.”
Cyrus lookedto the cliffs. The bleeding klops were not going toget away with this. He had an idea. He rose to his feet and ran towards the blackyeti.
“We can getyou inside!” he shouted.
Several giantsraised swords and clubs.
“Let themthrough,” the black yeti ordered.
Cyrus walkedto the giant’s side. Fibian joined him.
“We’ll openthe gates,” Cyrus said.
“How?” theblack yeti asked.
“Never mind that,”Cyrus said, “Just be ready.”
Fibian pulled Cyrus aside, away from the yeti’s prying ears.
“How
