Web of Fire Bind-up by Steve Voake Page B

the story Skipper had told him, ‘and I was looking for some shelter. Suddenly, someone attacked me from behind and knocked me out. When I came round again they had stolen my clothes. They left their own clothes behind and it was so cold that I had to put them on. Then when the train stopped and I found the doors unlocked, I climbed in to get out of the storm.’
    Odoursin was now staring at him intently. ‘And did you – by any chance – manage to see this person who attacked you?’ he asked slowly.
    â€˜Well,’ said Sam, ‘it all happened very quickly. But yes – yes I did catch a glimpse of his face.’
    Odoursin began to walk slowly and deliberately across the room towards him. ‘Think carefully,’ he said. ‘What did he look like?’
    Sam swallowed hard. He thought of the photograph albums on the shelf at home, of the face that used to smile back at him from the mirror in the mornings before school. ‘He had brown hair that sort of stuck up,’ he said. ‘But the thing I remember most about him, the thing that really struck me about him…’
    â€˜Go on,’ breathed Odoursin.
    â€˜â€¦ was his green eyes. He had these really bright green eyes.’
    â€˜Is this true?’ Odoursin hissed. He was now only inches away from him.
    Sam nodded. ‘That’s what I saw,’ he said. ‘But when I came round again, he was gone.’
    Odoursin towered over him and as Sam looked up he felt those cruel eyes burning directly into his own. They seemed to light all the dark places inside of him, illuminating a thousand fears and horrors that crawled and slid from every shadow.
    â€˜He’s lying,’ said Hekken.
    â€˜It would seem so,’ said Odoursin. ‘Perhaps it is time for a little persuasion.’
    Sam felt his hands shaking with fear, fluttering at his sides like two dying birds, but he squeezed them into tight fists and stared defiantly back into his tormentor’s face.
    â€˜I told you,’ he cried angrily, ‘you’ve got the wrong person!’
    A heavy blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling onto the floor and fireworks of pain exploded behind his eyes.
    â€˜Your choice,’ said Odoursin. ‘We can do this the hard way.’
    Sam was hauled roughly to his feet and thrown into a heavy wooden chair. Ropes were tied tightly around his wrists and ankles, securing him to the arms and legs of the chair. As Sam struggled, he heard the sound of a door opening and the rattle of a chain, followed by the tapping of claws over stone. Jerking his head around, Sam saw to his horror that a guard had brought in one of the dog-like creatures from the train. Its fur was lank and bloodstained and its yellow eyes bulged as it strained against the choke chain. It stared hungrily at him, salivadripping from its mouth.
    â€˜Hello, boy,’ it said.
    The guard loosened his grip on the chain slightly and there was a clunk as the dog took up the slack and moved closer to Sam, sniffing greedily at the air.
    â€˜Boy smell good,’ it growled, nodding slowly and grinding its teeth together. ‘I bite him now, I bite him…’
    Sam fought desperately to escape from the chair, but the ropes that bound him were too tight.
    The dog bared its teeth, tensed its muscles and snarled.
    As Sam cried out in terror, the door opened again and footsteps echoed across the marble floor. Odoursin quickly held up a hand and the guard pulled the marsh dog back in mid-flight. With a surprised yelp, it fell heavily to the ground and its claws slipped and scrabbled around on the smooth surface. Finally it managed to right itself and turned back to face Sam again, growling menacingly at him.
    Odoursin turned to look at the new arrival.
    â€˜What brings you here?’ he asked.
    â€˜Forgive the interruption, Your Excellency, but I have news of the boy.’
    â€˜Indeed.’ A pause. ‘I hope for your sake