Clue was trapped in a large firewood box in the sprawling Castle Grounds. The afternoon was frosty and bleak, and it was no warmer in here; ice had crawled in beneath the wooden lid and settled among the nooks and crannies of the chopped wood within. It was pitch black, but for a tiny sliver of light beneath the lid.

But Clue couldn't get the lid open from in here. Partly because the boys who'd forced him into the box had placed three very heavy logs on top, and partly because he was feeling increasingly weak and shaky, devoid of energy and courage, chills and tremors grasping at his chest. He felt seven years old again, tiny and trapped. Just as helpless, just as alone.

Meserimus Valenduris