“I bet you weren't
always called Rocknipples,” Raven whispers to the troll as it draws
him closer. In his pocket, his fingers find the chalk.
“No,” the troll
replies, “Dey gave me new name when dey conscripded us.”
“So what was your
name before that?” Raven gently drags the chalk across the troll's
chest.
“Bert,” the troll
tells him. “Ah was Bert, an' he was Ernie.”
“And you had a
bridge? Tell me about your bridge.” As he talks, Raven continues
to add lines until there is a chalk square on the troll's chest.
“Id was lobely,”
Rocknipples says, getting a little misty eyed. “Id was all rickedy
and broken down, not safe to cross at all, even if we wasn't
underneath.”
“Sounds lovely,”
Raven whispers, drawing a handle inside the box. “Can't wait to
see it.” He turns the handle, shouting “Now” to the guide. As
the door opens, the troll steps back with surprise, loosening his
grip on Raven, who wriggles free. Climbing halfway through the door,
Raven turns to grab the guide's hand, pulling him in and slamming the
hatch behind them.
