“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 Bekkup 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