CHAPTER 21

  PRISONER (AGAIN)

  When I opened my eyes, she was looking down at me, smiling, showing off sharp white fangs, too-white skin, silver hair, pointy ears and all her other dandy non-human points. Loranda, Queen of the damned elves, had me again.

  “Hi, you ugly bitch,” I tried to say, but it came out more like a weak “ha, ya uh-la-bi.” I was hurt, really bad. And my fedora was gone. Probably burned to ash by the damn dragon. And my Smith and Wesson was gone too, not that I had the strength to use it if I had it.

  “Jake Simon, what a wonderful surprise! We were just thinking of setting up an expedition to go after you and your pesky friends, but here you are! Isn’t it wonderful, Mickahl? Your friend Jake Simon has come to join you!”

  I struggled to move my head an inch or two, just enough to see where she was looking, and there he was, Mick the troll, shrunk down again to almost human size and held by massive chains attached to his wrists, legs and neck, which led to the wrist of a monstrous, twenty-five foot tall, ugly, shit-brown, furry, one eyed giant that had cloven feet like a goat. A Cyclops, I figured, based on my recollection of some old Sinbad movies. Crap; Cyclops are real! But hey, did that mean that maybe Santa Claus is real too?

  Mick looked terrible. Almost as bad as me, maybe. His tea shirt and jeans, which had apparently been conveniently shrunken down to still fit him, were torn, dirty and bloody, but his feet were bare. His wide shoulders drooped as he stared at me with big sad eyes. “Me sorry, Mr. Jake,” he said.

  As soon as he said it the Cyclopes roared and jerked up and down on the chain violently, and it rippled up, causing Mick’s end of it fly a dozen feet into the air with poor Mick attached, and then to crash back down onto the rocky ground. Groaning, the stunned troll managed to sit up.

  “You forget yourself again Mickahl,” said Loranda. “I had not given you permission to speak. As punishment, tonight, after you open the gate to our world again for the final time, Mr. Simon will be fed to my dragons.”

  “Thanks heaps, Mick,” I managed to say, as the Cyclops dragged the poor battered troll away.

  “Some questions first, Jake Simon,” said Loranda. “I can’t believe you came here alone. Even you aren’t that stupid. My elves say that you were with several others. Who else is here?”

  “Eat shit,” I said; pretty clearly, I thought. I was getting better at talking without the full use of properly functioning body parts.

  Someone kicked me in the ribs. It hurt so much I blacked out, but someone threw water over me and I came too again. There was bad news and good news and bad news, I realized. I was hurt really bad, which was bad, but I was in shock, so I didn’t feel pain so much, which was good, but next I would probably simply lose consciousness and die, which was for sure bad. And the elf bitch was still standing over me, smiling her ugly smile, which to be fair was the only smile she had.

  “What’s the matter human? Feeling poorly? No more troll healing spell in effect? Let me tell you who you brought with you, shall I? Your friend Vinnie and his mob friends, for sure, wearing stinking garlic necklaces. Oh, and that bank lady, what’s her name? Margie? The one with the raw wild magic powers that helped us open the gate? Did you bring her too?”

  “Kiss my ass,” I managed to say, though saying it hurt me more than it hurt her.

  “That’s all right Jake, I can read it in your eyes and little brain, as you are no longer protected by the troll curse. You did bring the witch here! That’s wonderful! That’s simply perfect! Here I was, puzzling over how to get at her, and you brought her right here to my stronghold!”

  “She’ll kick your ass!” I said.

  She lowered her ugly face close to mine. “She's powerless, fool! She’ll be dead by dawn, you little toad, along with anyone else you brought.”

  “Killed the way you killed Henry Jenkins?”

  “Much worse. I was in too much of a rush with your friend Henry, and there wasn’t anyone but a few of my dwarves to watch the fun.”

  That cinched it; she had been the one to kill poor Henry! “I’m going to watch you die, bitch!”

  Laughing, she kicked me again and I blacked out.