The Indigo King by James A. Owen Read Free Book Online

wagons are archaic. I wonder how far back Hugo went, to have caused this.”
    “Sixth century,” said Jack. “The message on the Grail book had to have been written when he went back. And he knew something bad would happen—that’s why he told us not to close the door.”
    “Don’t remind me,” said John. “My only consolation is that Charles isn’t here to see this too.”
    “I wish Scowler Charles was here,” said Uncas. “He’d have set things aright already, I thinks.”
    “And entirely by accident, knowing Charles,” said Jack.
    “Which still saved you, more than once,” Fred pointed out. “Uh, sir.”
    “You’re probably right,” John said, as he scratched the little animal affectionately on the head. “He does have a knack for doing the right thing at the right moment—whether he knows it or not.”
    The tower stood in what should have been the center of Oxford, and was ringed with walls of sturdier construction than anything else they had passed. They were several dozen yards high, and unlike the tower they encircled, the walls shone brightly in the moonlight.
    “That’s a hopeful sign,” Jack commented. “At least whoever is in charge around here keeps the outer walls clean.”
    “Hmm,” said John. “Now that’s odd. For a fortification, anyway.”
    He was looking at the great iron and wood doors that were set into the wall, just to their left. Massive, they were obviously intended to withstand a hefty assault—but the crossbeams and braces were on the exterior, rather than inside.
    “Odd isn’t the word,” said Jack. “That’s just stupid engineering. With all the braces out here, it wouldn’t keep anyone out at all. It’d be better for keeping people …” His voice trailed off as he realized the conclusion he’d drawn.
    “Back up,” John said, looking around with a growing unease. “Back up slowly, Jack.”
    The badgers, for their part, had gone no closer, but stood clutching each other, trembling.
    “Uncas?” Jack said, concerned. “Fred? What is it?”
    “Headbones,” Fred whispered. “Lots of suffering.”
    “Are you hurt?” asked John.
    “Not ours,” said Uncas. “Human bean headbones.”
    The little mammal pointed with a shaking paw at the walls, and they suddenly realized why the walls shone. They weren’t clean, so much as bleached .
    It was interesting to realize, John thought, just how neatly skulls could be stacked, and with such precision.
    Suddenly a booming cough came from behind the fortified walls, followed by another, and another, and then something of tremendous mass threw itself against the great doors. The doors shook violently, but held. The creature was tall enough that they could see its hairy bulk rising above the crest of the walls as it—they—paced back and forth, testing the doors with another blow now and again.
    “Do you think they know we’re here?” John whispered. “Jack—did we wake something up?”
    “I’m not going to wait around to ask,” Jack began, before he was cut off by another cough, which was followed by an even more chilling sound.
    “ Jaaack …”
    Jack froze. So did the others.
    “ Jaaaack … We hear you, Jaaack. …”
    It was the great creatures inside the walls. Even from that distance, they could hear the companions whispering.
    “Who are you?” said John.
    “ Sssss … Weee are the children of Polyphemus …,” the creature said. “ Be ye alive, or be ye dead … we’ll grind your bones to make our bread .…”
    “Giants!” Jack hissed. “What are giants doing in Oxford?”
    “This isn’t Oxford,” John said irritably. “But if these are giants … Perhaps we could use the Binding? From the Geographica ? Maybe …”
    “Is that even possible to do without royal blood?” Jack whispered back. “Who’d be crazy enough to try?”
    There was a chuffing noise from behind the walls of bone, and after a moment the companions realized that the giants were laughing at them.
    “ Foolish