"Every day they march to feed my glory," said Yan to me. "They hate it--still they come. Oh, your people are equal enough now. Junglefolk, plainsfolk--they all mingle together, dally in the sheets and knife each other for coin. And every day they make sacrifice. Blood I get. Toes, ears, fingers. Lives. And all willing... so to speak."
The kraken watched us from the safety of a four-fathom gap, craning its horned head back and forth. It seemed content to wait; already the sea had claimed the remains of the Ice Queen. We, however, would freeze to death before the creature ran out of patience.