Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Then I remembered something Goody Albright had said to me.
“All you need to do is call his name and I bet he’ll appear instantly,” she’d said, when talking to me about Malik.
I had no idea if she was right or not but there was nothing left to try.
Lifting my voice, I shouted as loudly as I could,
“Malik! Malik!”
Nothing happened and no one came, but I wasn’t giving up. Maybe he had to be summoned instead of just called.
“Malik, Incubus of Hell, I, Celia Hatch call on you now to come and fight for me!” I shouted.
Still nothing. I tried again.
“By the bloodline of my ancestress, Hester Hatch, I bid you to appear, Malik! Come to me NOW!” I bawled so loudly that my voice echoed through the entire cavernous room.
But still, no one came. Malik didn’t appear to save me like he had on the path behind my house. There was no sign of his muscular body or charming smile. There was just nothing…I was all alone with no one to stop the Ogre from eating me.
I was about to call again when Henkelman banged his gavel once more.
“That is enough. You’ve had three calls and your champion has not arrived. I order you to give yourself over to the party you injured so grievously for compensation,” he commanded importantly.
“Like Hell, I will!” I muttered. I was the one who was going to be grievously injured if Goremouth caught me! As the Ogre reached for me again, I dodged away and ran to the far corner of the big room.
This didn’t seem to bother Goremouth a bit. In fact, he was grinning from ear to ear as he came for me, his long hairy arms outstretched to catch me.
“Come now girly, time to eat. You’re going to be old Goremouth’s treat,” he grated, grinning that horrible toothy grin.
If only he wasn’t so big, I thought desperately! He wasn’t very fast but even one of his strides was like three of mine. How could I possibly get away?
I caught a flash of green from the corner of my eye. The doors!
I skittered away from the Ogre’s grasp at the last minute, aiming for the closest glowing green door. But when I got to it, the handle wouldn’t turn. It just twisted back and forth in my sweaty palm and no matter how much I tugged, the door wouldn’t open. Even worse, Goremouth was only a few feet behind me!
Heart pounding with fear, I ran to the other door on the other side of the courtroom. To my surprise, the Ogre didn’t try to stop me this time. He just stood there grinning that evil, hungry grin.
“Go on girly, run—be free. We shall see what we shall see,” he growled.
Never taking my eyes from him, I twisted the knob. It nearly slipped in my sweaty palm but then—oh, thank God!—I felt it turn.
With a gasp, I shoved the door open and—not even looking where I was going—dashed through it and slammed it shut behind me.
Safe—I was safe!
Or so I thought.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The green door disappeared as soon as I was through it and I found myself in a strange, cavernous room. It was dimly lit and at first, I was afraid that I was back in the awful courtroom again. But after looking around, I realized that I was wrong. The room was big and dim, just like the courtroom had been, but it was definitely different.
For one thing, instead of an empty space with nothing but the tall judge’s bench, this room was crowded with furniture. There was an enormous wooden table and two huge chairs sitting in the center of the room. Also, the walls were lined with extremely high counters that came up past my head. In one corner was a massive iron stove—the kind you see when you go visit one of those museums that show how people lived in the past before electricity.
Someone had built a fire in the stove and there was an enormous cook-pot, as big as a bathtub, sitting on its red-hot surface. It was filled with water which was just beginning to boil. Sitting on the counter beside the stove was what looked like a cutting board the size of a child’s snow sled. On it was a knife as big as a machete. The curving blade looked wickedly sharp.
“A kitchen,” I whispered, looking around me. “I’m in a giant’s kitchen. How did I get here? And where is here anyway?”
There was a kitchen window but it was much too high for me to look out of. Luckily, one of the wooden chairs was in a good position. Using the rungs of the chair, I hoisted myself up and stood on its seat. I peered out of the window, looking for any kind of landmark that might tell me where I was.