Kid vs. Squid by Greg van Eekhout Page B

Coriolis,” he said. “Welcome to my court.”
    He pulled his lips back in a smile like the last thing you’d see before a shark bites your face off.
    â€œWe have sought Skalla the witch for many summers. We thought we had defeated her some years ago, in one of our many battles. I cast her off the fishing pier myself. It was not the first time. Her head rolls on the sea floor, through mud and muck, down in the trenches where the only light comes from glowing fish. This is where she learns her secrets. But she always returns here, like Flotsam in her own way. Of late her whereabouts have remained unknown to us. And now, here she is again. I would very much like to hear how you made her acquaintance. But first, I would know this:
Where is my daughter?
”
    For once I did the smart thing: I let Trudy do the talking. She told him everything, from Shoal stealing Skalla’s head, to the jellyfish boys and the monster fish, plus everything in between.
    â€œShoal said we should come to you,” she concluded.
    Coriolis didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. He was like a big firecracker with a long, burning fuse that you regrethaving lit because no matter how far you run, you know it’s going to blast your fingers off.
    â€œSire, they are lying,” Concha said. “They belong to the witch. You cannot believe Shoal would go off on her own to steal Skalla’s head. If she discovered its location, she would have told you, and you could have dispatched me and my guards to retrieve it. She would not have acted alone.”
    â€œYou speak as though you’ve never met the king’s daughter,” Fin said. “That is precisely the kind of thing she would do. She is impetuous, foolhardy, and brave. Not unlike her friends. And if she thought the best way to take Skalla’s head was to steal her in the night, then it is a good thing she didn’t tell you first, because you and your guards are as stealthy as a walrus with a distressed stomach.”
    Concha opened her mouth to protest, but the king held his hand up and a thick silence settled over the chamber.
    â€œI would see the witch now.”
    Fin stepped forward. “Allow me, sire. I have a gentle touch.” He unzipped Trudy’s backpack and, as if he was handling a bomb, set the
What-Is-It??
on a side table beside the king’s throne. After carefully unlatching the lid, he opened the box. The witch’s eyes were still closed and the duct tape Shoal had put over her mouth still in place.
    And then her eyelids moved like the wings of a moth.
    â€œLet me kill her, sire,” Concha pleaded.
    â€œNo. Ending her life could mean ending the curse. Or it could mean losing any chance of ever ending it. That is our dilemma. We have had opportunities to kill her in the past, but we cannot know the consequences. We cannot stab or smash or boil our troubles away.”
    Concha pounded her fist into her palm. “And what has our restraint earned us, sire? We remain enslaved, selling cotton candy to tourists. What of your daughter? If these mud walkers are telling the truth, then Skalla holds her captive in a prison fish. We must end the witch, my king. Now, while we have the opportunity.”
    Coriolis rose to his full height. He hadn’t looked that massive beside the popcorn cart. He glared down at the
What-Is-It??
and said, “There will come a day when my hatred of this creature will surpass my sense of responsibility. I feel it coming, soon. Then, I will teach this witch the true meaning of suffering.” He closed the lid. “But that day is not now.”
    Sounds came from downstairs: a window breaking, heavy footfalls, and screaming. Someone called out, “Get the head!”
    Coriolis and Fin hurried down the stairs with afew Flotsam guards, leaving Concha and several of her men and women to watch the head.
    Trudy and I raced downstairs. Dozens