“Are you not afraid of me, girl?”

“Yes, I am,” she said.

“Then why do you not fight me, or scream?”

“I am no fighter, and if I am to die this day, I will die without screaming.”

He leaned forward with his tusks and teeth, and growled, “I can make you scream.”

“Yes, you can. I’m sure you can.”

“You say you are afraid, girl, but you do not act it.”

“I am Elinore the Younger, and I have come to rescue Prince True or die in the effort.”

The ogre gave a harsh snuff, and his breath was not pleasant, as if he’d eaten too much garlic for dinner, but it was not the breath of a monster, just of a very large man. His eyes were not as kind as the giant’s, but they were not cruel either.

“You may pass me, Elinore the Younger. My aunt waits for you in the next room. I would have cut you up and eaten you for supper tomorrow. My aunt will eat you while you are still alive.” And he leaned in close to add menace to the threat.

Elinore felt her pulse in her throat, because being eaten alive sounded even more awful than being cut up by an ax and cooked later, or knocked off a bridge by a giant, but she couldn’t go back. She had to go forward. Surely, eventually, someone would kill her and it would be done.