Akiko and the Great Wall of Trudd (10 page)

Throck’s cheeks rippled
like the gills of a bloated fish as he waited for an answer.

“We don’t need warnin’s from the likes of
you
, pal,” Spuckler said, stepping forward without hesitation. “We’re on our way to Alia Rellapor’s castle, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do t’ stop us.”

“My, my, little man,” Throck said with a nasty chuckle, “you’re a
brave
one, aren’t you?” He leaned over to look Spuckler directly in the eyes. I felt a chill shoot straight down my spine.

“I usually find bravery a very admirable characteristic,” Throck continued, his raspy voice just barely held above a whisper, “but your little show of bravado strikes me as rather sad. Have you any idea of the danger you’re in?”

“Look, Throck—” Spuckler began.

“Well, well!” Throck interrupted, his eyes open wide in surprise. “How is it that you know my name? Not that it is of any
importance
to me . . .”

“We know
all
about you, Throck,” Spuckler lied. “Now I suggest you step out of our way before I—”

“Before you
what
?” Throck interrupted again, this time barking the words like an angry dog. His face was now so close to Spuckler’s that they were nearly touching.

Gax gave out a little high-pitched whine, followed by a series of agitated clicks.

“Throck,” Spuckler said in his most patient voice, “I’m gonna give you till the count of three to get outta here an’ leave us alone.”

There was nothing but silence.

“One . . .”

HISSSSSSSSSSSS!

A cloud of steam rose eerily from behind Throck’s head.

“Two . . .”

“Time’s up!” Throck growled, clamping his hands around Spuckler’s waist. In one swift, graceful movement, he lifted Spuckler off the ground and threw him into the snow like a rag doll. Spuckler rolled when he hit the ground and scrambled to get back on his feet as quickly as he could.

Throck darted over to him with three quick strides of his enormous legs. Spuckler tried to throw a punch but ended up missing by a matter of inches. Throck snapped his hands around Spuckler’s chest and tossed him at least twenty feet in the air. This time when Spuckler hit the ground he stayed right where he was, half buried in the snow.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran over to where Spuckler lay and threw my arms around him. I pulled him up as best I could so that his head rested in my lap. Spuckler looked up at me for a moment, his eyes half open, half closed. He looked frighteningly weak.

“Leave him alone!” I shouted at Throck as loudly as I could. I felt a single hot tear run down my cheek. My face was burning up and my heart was pounding like crazy, but not so much out of fear, more just because I was so . . . I don’t know,
awake
.

Throck stood where he was and scowled at me.

“You have no one to blame but yourselves,” he sneered. “You saw the signs. You chose to ignore them.”

Just then Poog began to float out toward me and Spuckler. He stayed with us for a moment, then turned and floated right up to Throck, finally coming to a stop about three feet in front of his face.

Poog was frowning. I’d never seen him look like that before. It was as if he were turning into an entirely different kind of Poog. He looked angry.
Really
angry.

It got very, very quiet. Even Throck’s suit seemed to hiss less loudly.

The two of them stayed right where they were, Poog staring at Throck, Throck staring at Poog. The tension between them was so strong you could almost
hear
it. And the weird thing was . . .

. . .
Throck
was the one who looked scared.

His eyes were open wide, his pale pupils quivering slightly. He seemed to require all his strength just to remain standing.

I’m not exactly sure, but I think I heard Throck
say
something to Poog. I don’t know, it could have been just a cough, or the sound of his clearing his throat. But I think he
did
say something. If he did, then Poog simply chose to ignore him, because Poog stayed quiet the whole time, with a very cold, very
determined
look on his face. Nobody moved an inch.

Suddenly Throck turned away from Poog and walked back toward his ship. Mr. Beeba, who had watched the confrontation between Poog and Throck with ever-increasing interest, looked as if his jaw would hit the ground.

Throck climbed back up to the portal he’d come from just minutes before. He then turned to face us all one last time.

“Think long and hard about what you’re getting yourselves into,” he said slowly and clearly, as if he were trying to carve the words into our brains, “because once you’ve reached Alia Rellapor’s castle . . .”

He paused for what seemed like a full minute.

“. . . there will be no turning back.”

Throck’s spaceship rocketed
up into the night with a blinding flash of light. I’ve never been so happy to see someone go.

We all huddled around Spuckler, worried that he’d suffered some kind of deadly injury. Gax seemed especially concerned; he was making all sorts of rattling and beeping sounds, as if he was very, very nervous. Soon, though, Spuckler was sitting up and talking again, acting as if nothing had happened.

“I jus’ got the wind knocked outta me, tha’s all,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed about how quickly Throck had defeated him. “Next time I’ll give ol’ Throck a taste of his own medicine!”

Mr. Beeba and I looked at each other and smiled.

When Spuckler had regained a bit of his energy, Mr. Beeba and I helped him to his feet. We walked him around in circles a couple of times, and before long he seemed to be back to normal.

Poog was off by himself, still staring into the sky where Throck’s ship had disappeared. His face was tightened up into a look of great concentration, as if he was very deep in thought. I couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking about, and I was dying to know what Throck had said to him. My mind was full of questions, but I decided to save them for later. We had other things to worry about.

The snow had started to let up a bit, but we were still stuck without a place to sleep. The sky was now pitch-black, and it looked as if we’d have no choice but to keep walking straight through the night. It was
not
a very pleasant idea.

“Wait a minute!” Mr. Beeba said, snapping his fingers. “The bridge!”

“What about it?” Spuckler asked.

“It’ll be the perfect shelter,” Mr. Beeba said, scampering back through the snow to where we had just come from.

“Come on, ’Kiko,” Spuckler said, smiling. “I think I know what Beebs has in mind.”

Spuckler, Gax, Poog, and I all followed Mr. Beeba down the snow-covered seashore alongside the bridge. A large section of beach was partially enclosed by some stone pillars that held up the bridge. Mr. Beeba led us underneath the bridge and into a little cavelike space that was almost completely cut off from the snow. It was still pretty cold, but at least we had some kind of roof over our heads. We all sat down and tried to get used to the idea of spending the night in such a dark, cold place.

“A li’l fire’ll make this place a lot more homey,” Spuckler said, pushing a button on Gax’s body. Out came Gax’s torch, with its bright, steady flame. Suddenly the frozen beach and the underside of the bridge were bathed in a warm yellow light. Spuckler was right. Just a simple thing like a bit of light made a pretty big difference.

That was just the beginning, though.

We all started gathering pieces of driftwood that had collected under the bridge. We put them all side by side and watched as Gax dried them with his torch. Some of them were pretty wet from all the ice and snow, and you could see steam rising into the air as Gax went to work on them. It took a while, but eventually Gax was able to make each piece of wood as dry as a bone.

Spuckler took the pieces of wood and carefully arranged them into a teepee shape. Then Gax stuck his torch down at the bottom and set the whole thing aflame. Soon we were delighted to find ourselves huddled around a bright, crackling fire, warming our hands and feet and just generally making ourselves as comfortable as we could possibly be.

Then Spuckler pulled out the brown paper bag Yabby had given to us when we left his restaurant.

“Anyone hungry?” he asked.