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Crystal Kingdom Page 4
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With its large wingspan, pointed beak, and thick feathers down its long neck, it was unmistakably a bearded vulture. Bearded vultures weren’t native to this area—they were something that had been brought in with trolls from the old world, like Gotland rabbits and Tralla horses.
We were in Omte territory.
The cypress and willow trees around us towered several stories into the air, and from the corner of my eye I saw a flash near the top of one. I shone my light up toward it, and with the weak power of my TracFone, I could just make out the outline of a large tree house.
It wasn’t exactly a luxury tree house, but it was much more than the average one you might find in a child’s backyard. The wood seemed warped and worn, with moss growing over it, and a sagging porch was attached to the front. But it was easily large enough to house a family, and it even had a second story attached to the right side that climbed up along the trunk of the tree.
A large head poked out of the window, looking down at me. It was slightly lopsided, the way Bent Stum’s head had been, with one eye appearing larger than the other.
“Konstantin,” I said quietly. “I think we’re here.”
“What?” he asked.
No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than a massive ogre jumped out of a tree and came crashing down into the water in front of us, sending muddy water splashing over us. As soon as the water settled, the ogre let out a long, low growl, and I knew we were in trouble.
“I told you that we shouldn’t startle them,” Konstantin said.
NINE
monstrosity
I’d heard of ogres and seen pictures of them in textbooks, but I’d never actually met one in real life. I knew that the Omte occasionally gave birth to ogres and they had several of them living in their population. But it’s one thing to read about massive, hulking trolls and it’s another thing entirely to have one standing directly in front of you.
The ogre stood well over eight feet tall, and he had thick arms bulging with muscles like boulders. His whole body tilted to one side, with his right shoulder rising above his left shoulder, and his right hand was even bigger than his left. His head was massive, making room for a large mouth filled with uneven yellowed teeth. It all made his eyes seem disproportionately small, and he stared down at us with either rage or hunger—I couldn’t tell which.
“Why disturb my home?” the ogre demanded, his voice booming through everything.
“We mean you no harm.” Konstantin held up his hands toward him.
The ogre laughed at that, a terrible rumbling sound. “You no harm me! You can’t harm me!”
“That’s true,” Konstantin allowed, and I wished that we’d brought some kind of weapon with us. We were defenseless if this giant decided he wanted to grind our bones to make his bread. “We only wish to speak to your Queen.”
The alligator had begun to swim closer to us, but I’d hardly noticed it, since my attention had been focused on the ogre. It wasn’t until the ogre lunged, swinging his massive fist out, that I realized how close the alligator had gotten. The ogre punched it, and sent it flying backward into the swamp.
Konstantin and I both took a step back, and I started to think that coming here might have been a very bad idea.
Then the ogre turned back to us with his beady eyes narrowed. “What you know of Queen?”
“We’re Kanin,” Konstantin explained. “We’re allies.”
“Friends,” I supplied when the ogre appeared confused.
“Queen no tell me friends coming.” The ogre bent down so he could get a better look at us, and the stench from his breath was almost enough to make me gag. “Queen tell me when friends visit.”
“Well, it’s a bit of a surprise, actually.” Konstantin smiled, hoping to make light of things, but the ogre wasn’t having any of it.
“Queen tell me to squash visitors,” the ogre said. “Me think she want me to squash you.”
“The Queen wouldn’t want you to squash friends, though,” I said, hurrying to come up with a reason for us not to end up like the alligator.
The ogre straightened up again and glowered down at us. He seemed to consider my proposition, but before he could make a decision, we were interrupted by the sound of a fan propeller coming from behind him. A headlight bobbed on the water toward us, and within a minute, an airboat had pulled up beside the ogre.
A woman stood on it, one of her thick rubber boots resting on the front edge. She appeared to be in her late twenties, and with smooth skin, large dark eyes, and a totally symmetrical body. Her long chestnut hair was pulled back, and she wore a black tank top that revealed the thick muscles of her arms. She wasn’t much taller than me, but she could easily break me over her leg if she wanted to.
“What’s all the commotion about, Torun?” she asked the ogre, but her eyes were on Konstantin and me.
“Squash visitors!” Torun told her, motioning to us with his massive paw.
“We’re from the Kanin tribe,” Konstantin rushed to explain before she became sympathetic with the ogre’s position. “We’re only here to talk to your Queen. We think we may have information that she may find useful.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You look familiar.” Then she tilted her head. “Didn’t the Kanin just send us WANTED posters with your face on it? You killed someone important, didn’t you?”
“That’s part of what we would like to speak to the Queen about,” I said, trying to remain unfazed.
She thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right.” She leaned down and held out her hand to me. Her grip was almost bone-crushingly strong, and she pulled me up onto the boat with ease.
“But me squash!” Torun yelled plaintively as she helped Konstantin onto the airboat.
“Not this time, Torun,” she said and turned the boat on. Torun splashed the water with his fists in a rage, and she steered us away from him, turning back.
There were no seats on the boat, so I held on to Konstantin to steady myself and hoped I didn’t go flying off into the swamp as she picked up speed.
“Who are you anyway?” she asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the large propeller.
“I’m Bryn Aven, and this is Konstantin Black.”
“I’m Bekk Vallin, one of the Queen’s guards,” she explained. “The Queen won’t give you amnesty, if that’s what you’re looking for. But I’ll take you to her anyway. She might be curious about what you have to say.”
“Thank you,” Konstantin said. “All we really want is an opportunity to speak with her.”
Bekk didn’t say any more as she drove us along, weaving through the trees. It was only a few minutes before we reached their palace anyway, and it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.
It was a square fortress, made of what appeared to be mud and stone, with thick layers of moss and vines growing over it. With the rest of the Omte living in tree houses, I’d assumed this to be higher off the ground, but it was nearly flush with the swamp, sitting on a small hill above it.
Konstantin and I followed Bekk up the muddy bank toward a massive iron door. Rust left it looking dark brown, and it creaked loudly when an ogre opened it, causing a nearby bearded vulture to squawk in protest.
Inside the palace, it was just as humid as it was outside, and moss grew on the interior walls. Slugs and snails seemed to have made themselves at home in here, and a giant spider had spun a web in the corner of a doorway.
Bekk said nothing as she led us through. Iron chandeliers dimly lit the way through the smallest palace I had been to. It reminded me more of the ruins of a castle in Ireland I’d seen in textbooks than of an active palace where trolls lived and worked.
A set of stairs ran along the side of the wall, jutting out from the stone with no railing or wall to keep one from falling over the other side. Bekk went up them, so Konstantin and I followed her.
At the top of the landing there were three heavy wooden doors, and Bekk pushed one of them open. It was a small room, with a dingy
-looking bed, a metal toilet and sink in one corner. There were bars on the only window to prevent an escape, though bugs and birds could come and go as they pleased.
“You will wait here until I come get you,” Bekk instructed us.
“Will that be soon?” I asked.
“It will be whenever the Queen decides,” Bekk replied curtly.
Since we had no other choice, Konstantin and I went into the room. As soon as we did, Bekk shut the door loudly behind us, and we heard the sound of locks sliding into place. Just to be sure, Konstantin tested the door, and it didn’t budge. We were trapped inside.
“Does this make us prisoners, then?” I asked.
Konstantin sighed. “It does seem that way.”
TEN
confined
There was blackness, and then strong hands were on me, closing in, crushing me. I didn’t remember anything before that, but all I knew was that I had to fight if I wanted to survive. I lashed out, hitting everything I could until I registered Konstantin’s voice, crying out in pain.
“Bryn!” he shouted.
And slowly, the world came into focus. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the open window of our cell. Konstantin stood with his back pressed against the wall, wedged in the constricted spot between where I knelt on the bed and the mossy stone behind him.
I blinked at Konstantin, trying to understand what was happening, and without warning he lunged at me, grabbing my wrists and pinning me back on the bed.
“What are you doing?” I growled and tried to push him back with my legs.
“What are you doing?” he shot back, his face hovering just above mine as he stared down at me. “You started attacking me.”
“I did not,” I replied instantly, but then realized that I actually did remember hitting at something. So I corrected myself. “If I did, I was just protecting myself. What did you do?”
“You were moaning and freaking out, twitching your legs like a dog having a bad dream,” he explained, his expression softening from accusatory to concerned. “I thought something might be wrong, so I put my hand on your arm—just to check on you—and you went ballistic.”
I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He let go of my wrists and moved over so he was sitting next to me. “Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I sat up more slowly and ran my hand through my tangles of hair.
Since there was only the one bed—a narrow, lumpy double mattress on a rusted iron bed frame—Konstantin and I had decided to share it last night. I’d honestly considered the floor, but there were centipedes and bugs of all kinds crawling all over it, and while the bed probably wasn’t a much safer bet, I knew I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep on the floor.
I’d slept as near to the edge as possible, rigidly on my side, and I was acutely aware of every breath he took and every time he shifted. Five years ago, if someone had told me that I’d share a bed with Konstantin Black, I would’ve been too excited to believe it, but now I had no idea what to think about any of this.
“What was the bad dream about?” Konstantin asked.
“I don’t remember,” I said honestly, but most of my nightmares were variations of Kasper dying, or of Kennet dying, or of me killing Cyrano, or of Ridley being ripped from my arms. None of them were pleasant to recall.
I got up and slid between Konstantin and the wall to the larger area of the room. My hair tie was around my wrist, and I pulled back my hair into a ponytail. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been nearly twenty-four hours since the last time I’d eaten, and I had no idea when I’d eat again.
So, without anything better to do, I dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups. My jeans and tank top were both splattered with mud that had dried and become stiff, but I was hoping the more I moved, the more mud I’d lose.
“What are you doing?” Konstantin asked.
“I’m not just gonna sit and wait for the Queen to summon us. Assuming she ever does summon us.” I looked up at him as I worked out. “Besides, we might have to fight our way out of here.”
“And you think those extra twenty push-ups will help you fight off an ogre like that Torun guy?” he asked with a smirk.
“I’m doing a hundred,” I grunted but didn’t argue with him.
In truth, I had no idea how we could possibly escape from here. The Omte were much too strong for us to fight hand-to-hand. If they wanted us trapped in this tower forever, then that was what would probably happen.
Konstantin got up from the bed and walked over to the window. His arms were folded over his chest, and the rising sun cast a long shadow behind him that overtook the room. When I finished my push-ups, he was still standing like that, staring through the bars.
I stood up and wiped the sweat from my brow. “I can’t believe how hot it is for how early it is. How can people live like this?”
“It is actually kind of beautiful here,” Konstantin said.
I went over to see what he saw. Our room was just above the tops of the trees, and from here we had a stunning view of the trees and the water below. A few birds flew by, their wings like arcs in the bright sun, and I had to admit that he was right.
“Do you think you could fit through these bars?” he asked.
“What?” I’d been looking past the window and now I turned my attention to the three thick bars that held us in the room.
“The bars.” He started pushing at the stones that lined the window. “This place isn’t in the best shape, so I think I could loosen a couple stones, and”—he glanced over at my waist, then looked back at the width between one bar and the window frame—“I think you could just squeeze through.”
I leaned forward, poking my head through the bars and looking at the sheer drop many stories below to the muddy banks. The image of Kennet falling to his death flashed through my mind, and I looked away, hoping to stop the replay.
“Maybe, but then what?” I asked as I stepped back from the window. “I’ll die on the way down.”
“You can climb. There’s grooves between the stones.” Konstantin peered down. “If you climbed out carefully and went slowly, I think you could do it.”
“Even if I can, what would you do?” I asked. “I’d probably just barely be able to squeeze through, and you’re much broader than I am. You wouldn’t be able to make it.”
He turned back to me and shrugged. “So?”
“So?” I scoffed. “How will you get out of here?”
“I won’t,” he replied simply. “I’m the one that suggested we come here and got us into this. We don’t both need to rot in this tower until the end of time.”
I shook my head. “We’ll come up with something so we can both get out of here together. I’m not leaving without you.”
His mouth hung open for a moment, like he wanted to argue with me, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of surprise and admiration—that stopped him. He seemed stunned that I meant what I said, and in all honesty, so was I.
I’d spent years plotting my revenge against him, and now I had a chance to leave him behind to suffer, and I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. After everything that had happened, and everything we had been through, I realized that Konstantin Black had somehow become my friend, and I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him if I could help it.
The locks on the door started to creak, and we both turned our attention back to the door. The heavy wood slowly pushed inward, and Bekk Vallin came in, carrying black fabric in her arms.
“The Queen has agreed to meet with you for breakfast,” Bekk said, and she tossed the clothes at me. “She wishes for you to get changed and ready yourself for the meal, and I will come back and get you when she’s ready to receive you.”
“Thank you,” I said. Bekk simply nodded and left, locking the door behind her again.
I set the clothes on the bed to see what she’d brought us, and the clothes smelled musty and looked worn, with hole
s and threads coming loose. My outfit was a black dress with a corset waist, off-the-shoulder sleeves, and a large ball gown skirt. It looked like something someone might’ve worn to a Gothic wedding. And then they’d been buried in it for a few months.
Konstantin’s outfit was about the same—a worn black suit with a Victorian flare to it. He changed before I did—slipping off his muddy clothes and pulling on the new ones while I had my back to him. When he’d finished, he came over to help me lace up the corset in the back of the dress.
“I feel like Dracula or something,” he said, looking down at himself. “But after he’s been staked.” He sighed. “There’s still time for you to escape instead.”
“No, we’re doing this,” I told him firmly. “It’s our only chance of making things right. We have to get the Queen on our side.”
ELEVEN
carnivorous
A big black beetle scurried across the long wooden table, running directly toward the fried rabbit carcass in the center, and Helge Otäck walked over and smashed it with his fist. One might have expected him to wipe the mess off the dining table, but instead he left it and returned to his place standing behind Queen Bodil.
It felt like Konstantin and I had somehow slipped into a bizarro world, where everything was like a twisted version of troll culture, and nothing was quite right.
To start with, the dining hall was a rather small square room with no windows. It wasn’t nearly as mossy or moldy as our room had been, but it was still dank. In compensation for the lack of windows, two large tapestries were hung on the wall, and they appeared to be depicting rather brutal Omte battles that I wasn’t familiar with. The edges were frayed and coming loose, and I saw a huge brown spider crawling across one.
Two iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, both of them lit with candles, and there were four torches on the wall. It seemed like overkill for such a small space, but the interior still ended up somewhat dim.
Like most meals I went to with royals, there was a massive spread of food covering the large table. Unlike every other meal I had been to, this one had lots of meat. Trolls weren’t exactly vegetarian, and the Skojare especially had a fondness for fish. But we didn’t eat it very often, preferring fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and some dairy, because everything else tended not to sit well with us.