Abigail hefted her ball of witchfire. “Get away from my friend or find out what a witch can do.”
But before she could launch her attack, a clump of snow dropped from the tree overhead, burying her witchfire as more of the creatures sprang from behind trunks. Two of them grabbed Hugo, wrenching his arms behind his back, while two more took hold of Abigail. Worse, a pair of snarling animals prowled out of the bushes, heads lowered as they bared sharp fangs. They looked like a cross between a small bear and a wolf, with stocky brown bodies, rounded ears, and a mask of silver-tinged fur around their eyes.
“Ties them up,” Izmerelda ordered her fellow hags. “There’s a hefty bounty to be’s collected.”
“What bounty?” Hugo asked as one of the awful-smelling troll hags bound his wrists with cord.
“The one ons your head.” She pointed a crooked finger at him. “The son of Odin. Robert Barconian. You’s stole something that belongs to the king of giants himself.”
Abigail started to argue. “He’s not—”
Hugo elbowed her. “That’s right. I’m Robert Barconian. I demand you take us to the giant king.”
“Riiight,” Abigail said, catching on. “The giant king who’s in his magic palace. That’s who we want to see.”
The troll hag sneered, her lips peeling back to reveal blackened teeth. “Then you’s a bigger fool than you’s look. Utgard-Loki likes to bake the bones of children in his bread.” She cackled with laughter, and the other crones joined in. “And if he finds out this one’s a witch, he’ll string her up by her toes.”
“What does he have against witches?” Abigail asked.
“He’s superstitious, he is. A witch washed ashore here once. One of Utgard-Loki’s uncles captured her, and she hexed him with a spell that turnt him the size of a troll—and not a big one, minds ya. Now the mere mention of a witch makes the king scairt. No giant wants to be small.”
The troll hags marched Hugo and Abigail to a large sled piled with pungent animal pelts. Two of them led the beasts to their harnesses. “Get ons, unless you wants to walk,” Izmerelda snapped. “Or I can feeds you to my badgets. They’s always ready to eat.”
The beasts looked at them over their brawny shoulders, a thin stream of frozen drool hanging from their jaws.
Abigail and Hugo clambered atop a pile of skins, ignoring the rank odor. Izmerelda let out a shrill “Hiyaka!” and the badgets lunged forward. The sled rode easily atop the snow, careening back and forth as the animals nimbly wove between trees. Hugo thought for sure he and Abigail were going to tumble out, but the other troll hags clung to the sides, leaning just far enough to keep the craft from flipping.
“This is a bad idea,” Abigail whispered to him. “I don’t like it one bit.”
Hugo sighed but said nothing. There were so many things that could go wrong with his plan he had stopped counting.
When they crested the hill, a pristine white plateau lay before them. Hugo groaned. He’d been hoping to see signs of a city, but there was just snow and more snow. The troll hag stopped the sled, traced a small circle and then an X in the air with one crooked finger, and whispered strange words.
A shimmer swept across the snowy field. As it passed, a ripple appeared in the air, as if Hugo were looking through a soap bubble. Then it cleared, revealing the most amazing sight.
A glistening castle rose before them, every facet glittering in the afternoon sunlight. It looked as if the entire thing had been carved of ice. Even the wall surrounding the castle was made of carved ice blocks.
Abigail’s jaw fell open. “Is that—”
“The city of the giants,” Hugo supplied, thinking it was the biggest city he had ever seen.
Izmerelda snapped the reins, urging the badgets on. The sled raced across the field toward a pair of iron gates, the only thing not made of ice. Two giants stood on either side, each holding a lance as thick as a sapling and as tall as the giants themselves. Their leather tunics were trimmed in fur, and weapons were strapped to every inch of their torsos.
One of them squatted down to get a closer look at the sled. Scars crisscrossed his forearms, and his nose looked as if it had been crunched in a fight.
“Aye, troll hag, what are you doing with these puny scraps? You know His Highness doesn’t like humans.”
“These isn’t just any humans,” Izmerelda said. “This is a son of Odin.” She pushed Hugo forward. “There’s a bounty on his head. His Highness wishes to see him.”
The giant sniffed at Hugo, unconvinced, then turned to study Abigail. “This one smells of magic. She’s not one of them witches, is she?”
“Of courses not,” Izmerelda lied. “We knows how the king feels about witches.”
“She’s my healer,” Hugo said. “She travels with me. A son of Odin would never consort with a witch.”
The giant stood. “You may pass, but expect no favors today. His Highness is in a foul mood.”
Izmerelda scratched her chin. “Why is that?”
“Thor has returned to the land of the giants.”
Hugo looked at Abigail. So Thor really was here. That was a good sign. “How do you know?” he asked.
The giant swiveled to look at him. “We have eyes everywhere. Thor should know to stay away.” He waved them through the gate.
Izmerelda drove the sled under a towering blue arch. The buildings were so tall Hugo had to crane his neck back to see the tops. Giants lumbered about everywhere. The females looked as fierce as the males, sporting weapons and flexing muscles as they pushed and shoved each other about, as if it were a sport.
The air smelled of burning steel and ash. They passed by blacksmith shops with sweating trolls working iron forges while others pounded hammers on molten metal, making giant-sized weapons. The male trolls were even uglier than the troll hags, with blunt noses, sneevil-like tusks poking up from their lower jaws, and a pair of short horns on either side of their heads.
The trolls stopped their work as the children passed, eyeing them as if they were sizing them up for their stew pots.
“Really. Bad. Idea,” Abigail muttered.
Chapter 17
The tight ropes chafed Abigail’s wrists. When they got out of this, she was going to give Hugo a piece of her mind for having the worst idea ever. Until then, she had to keep her witch wits about her.
They left the blacksmith shops behind, and the street widened, leading toward a colossal building capped with four ice-blue turrets. For all its size, it was only one story—the giants were too big and heavy to have a second floor, she guessed.
Izmerelda turned the sled away from the double doors guarded by two fierce-looking female giants and went down a narrow side alley, stopping in front of a troll-sized side door. She stepped off the sled and hauled the children up, dragging them forward. The troll standing guard outside barred their way.
“And where does you thinks you’s going, troll hag?” He glowered at them from under bristly brows. His lower tusks jutted up, and his horns, though short, were pointed and sharp.
“Move aside, Ozzie. I’ves got business with the king.” She gave Hugo a shake. “This one took something from His Highness.” She tried to move past, but the troll guard shoved her back.