"Is it for me or for you, outland dog, to question the reasons of our lord?" roared the captain. "Come, or be dragged!"
I pressed Freya's hand and went with the guards. In a gloomy, stone corridor, they bared their swords to cut me down if I attempted escape or resistance. The door of the cell was barred again, and two of the Jotuns took their places outside it. The others marched me away.
The dank chill of the passage struck me to the marrow. But I felt a greater chill of dread at this summons from Loki. I was going to face the arch-traitor who had waked for his final most vicious revenge…
Chapter XI
The Arch-fiend
We passed through gloomy corridors and chambers of age-old stone, crusted with evil-looking white fungi and lichens, dripping with condensed vapor. Rats squeaked across our path unheeded. Up broad stairs of troglodytic hugeness, we climbed into the upper levels of the massive palace. Everywhere we met soldiers and thralls hurrying to and fro, carrying piles of spears and arrows, stacks of shields, and other war supplies.
Tense preparations for the attack on Asgard were unceasingly going on through the whole palace and city. The Jotun captain led us through another corridor, to the edge of a large, poorly lit hall.
"Wait," he barked, stopping. "Our lord is not finished with Princess Hel."
"What are they doing?" I asked, awed. "What kind of machinery is that?"
"Silence, outlander!" snapped the captain.