“Oh, how sweet the taste, how the cold lingers!” he said. “Winter king, king of ice, I will suck you until you are so small I can crunch you with my teeth, and what will your name be worth then? Will you not give it to me now and go into the flame while you are still great?” The Staryk trembled all over, and then he said, very faintly, only, “No,” and it was the same as our no had been, it was a no that said no matter what Chernobog did to him, it was not as bad as if the Staryk gave him his name.
