A Feast of Dragons - By Morgan Rice Page 0,41
façade.”
The two of them continued marching, farther and farther down the hill, getting closer to the cave of the Cyclops. The sky morphed into a brilliant, glowing red, looking as if it were on fire. Thor could not help but feel as if he were walking into the very pit of hell.
Finally, the ground leveled out, the cave hardly thirty yards before them, and they stopped as two warriors came up behind them and cut their ropes, freeing their hands. The warriors turned and ran back uphill, to the large crowd of Legion members who watched at a safe distance uphill.
Thor and Malic glanced at each other, then Thor turned and marched boldly right up to the huge cave. Malic followed. If Thor was going to die, he would do so bravely. Krohn walked beside him, growling.
“Go back, Krohn!” Thor commanded, wanting to spare him.
But Krohn refused to leave his side.
There came another earth-shattering roar, and it was enough to make Thor want to stop in his tracks. Beside him, Malic continued marching, relaxed, with a smile on his face, as if happy to meet the monster. Maybe he was happy to meet his death, Thor thought. He seemed suicidal.
Thor’s mind raced as they approached the cave. The opening was so high, soaring at least thirty feet, it was ominous; it made Thor wonder about the size of the creature that lived within it. He wondered if these would be his last moments on earth, if he would die this way, down here, in this cave, on this island. All because of Malic, because of a crime he did not commit. He wondered about his fate and destiny, if it had all been wrong. After all, Argon had never seen this, had never seen his encounter with the Cyclops—or at least had never warned him of it. And Thor had never seen it himself. Was his power not as strong as he thought? Was this where it would all end? Or had his fate changed somehow?
For the first time since he had embarked, Thor took seriously the idea that he might not return. For some reason, he thought of Gwendolyn. He thought of her waiting for him, of his never showing up, of his not returning for her. It broke his heart.
Before he could finish the thought, suddenly, from out of the cave came the largest beast Thor had ever seen. The Cyclops took three huge steps, ducking his head, unbelievably, despite the thirty foot opening, then raising himself to his full height as he stepped outside. He was enormous, like looking up at a mountain.
As he stepped, the earth shook. He leaned back and roared, and it felt as if it would shatter Thor’s eardrums. Thor’s body froze with fright. Finally, Malic’s did, too. He stood there, open-mouthed, staring up, his sword hanging limp in his hand. Krohn snarled, fearless.
The Cyclops must have been fifty feet tall. He was broader and thicker than an elephant, the grey skin on his muscles rippling, his one eye blinking madly, and had two huge fangs, each the size of Thor. He leaned his head back and roared again, his hands bunched into fists, his arms rising high then coming down, too fast, like tree trunks, swinging right for Thor and Malic.
Thor jumped out of the way just in time, as the monster’s fists slammed into the earth, creating a huge crater, shaking the ground so hard that Thor stumbled. Malic barely escaped, too.
Thor looked at the short sword in his hand, at the sling at his waist, and wondered how he could ever combat this creature. He was a speck next to this beast; Thor doubted his sword could even puncture its skin. It would take an army, and an arsenal of weapons, to even attempt to kill it.
Malic threw caution to the wind. He raised his sword, and with a battle cry, charged the creature, attempting to puncture the beast in its shin. But he did not even get close: the beast merely swatted him away, and Malic went flying, landing hard on the ground, rolling and tumbling.
The beast turned to Thor. It charged him, the ground shaking as it went, and Thor was too frozen with fear to move. Thor wanted to turn and run, but he forced himself to stand in place, to hold his ground. There were too many eyes watching him; he could not let down his Legion brothers. He remembered what one of his trainers taught