Page 70 - Folio Only

alive the fears of Kinderslüka, eventually they had become disbelieved and even
mocked, and no one thought that Kinderslüka the Monster was real anymore.

Only little Damiano believed the elders. Everyone else thought the
disappearing children were the casualty of some cruel kind of warfare with the
Austrians, and in retaliation, spent their time plotting tactical campaigns and
troop-movements against the Austrians, and so the children kept disappearing.

“What can I do!?” asked Damiano of the Elder named Sambuco.

“If you were older,” replied Elder Sambuco, then retreated “ -- but you're
not. So I fear there's nothing you can do.” Elder Sambuco sighed doubly, for it
was his son and grandson who were doing most of the military plotting, and he
feared they would be killed in the inevitably unsuccessful war against the
Austrians, and there would be none to combat Kinderslüka.

“But Elder Sambuco,” protested Damiano, “You and I both know I won't
live long enough anyway to fight Kinderslüka in battle, so I might as well try to
do something now, rather than just wait to be killed and eaten. He'll start with
my toes, you know, and I'm so terribly ticklish, I fear I'd die of laughter.
Please, Elder Sambuco, I'd rather die a dignified, heroic death. Tell me what
you'd advise me if I were a warrior. How can I defeat Kinderslüka the
Monster?”

“Well, it's his eyes, of course. You must capture his eyes before he's had
a chance to throw them, conjuring his goats and chariot. After he's taken out
his eyes and before their transformation, in that tiny moment in between, he's
blind. That's your only chance.”

“I'll do it! I'll go to him, before he's hungry and in his chariot, and I'll pull
out his eyes!”

So that's what Damiano set out to do. He stayed awake in bed on eight,
listening, listening to hear the rattle of Kinderslüka's chariot, and then once

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