The top of the tower.
A door stands open. I walk toward it just as the screams fly out.
~~~
I’m in no shape to fight, too exhausted from my harried flight up the stairs, which is exactly why the king is probably hiding out here.
But I enter anyway, taking it all in with a single glance.
The horseless rider is surrounded by guards, slashing and blocking and hacking at their spears and axes and swords, killing one with a slice to the throat, stabbing another through the gut, fighting like someone who can’t be defeated.
Small windows are cut at intervals along the walls, barely letting in any light at all, and certainly no sun—nay, not one speck of sunlight; at the other end of a room that seems too big to be held up this high, Goff stands in front of a huge, stone throne on a raised platform like a god, eyes blazing, his arms around…his arms holding…
I choke when I try to speak, gasping for air and words, because he’s got her, he’s got...
“Jolie,” I say.
It’s not loud enough to reach anyone’s ears beyond my own, not against the battle cries in front of me.
Another guard dies with a scream, the rider vanquishing his enemies one by one.
“Jolie,” I say again, this time louder.
Both Goff and Jolie look across the room at me. “Dazz!” Jolie screams.
And King Goff smiles. He actually smiles. His whole world is crashing down around him and he doesn’t seem to care one bit, as if he’s entertained by it. Jolie strains against his arms, but he’s got her tight, so tight, and I start to run toward her, but then Goff reaches back and when his hand returns it’s gleaming and it’s holding a knife, jabbing it under Jolie’s throat, and he’s still smiling and his eyes are too, warning me to Stay away, stay away, back off, or, or…
…she dies.
There’s nothing I can do but stop. Rage is throbbing in my head and in my blood and in my heart, but I have to stop, because he’s got her and he’ll kill her—that much I can see in his eyes.
But Jolie’s pleading, pleading with her own eyes, giving me that hopeful look that she always has, like having a knife at her neck isn’t anything if I’m there. Her protector.
A body crashes to the floor behind me and I jerk my head to the side and down. Another guard, not yet dead, but on his way, blood gurgling from his lips as he tries to breathe through thick, red liquid.
I raise my head to see the rider standing alone amidst a circle of bodies. He’s killed them all—every last guard. A warrior, his strength far beyond my pathetic and useless bar-fighting talent that I once held such pride for.
He steps forward, his dark skin dripping with sweat, his black robe dragging at his feet, his sword held with both hands in front of him, the tip almost touching his chin.
I won’t let him get Jolie without going through me first.
“You’re here for the girl?” he asks, his voice a deep rumble. I step back, as if his words are far worse than his sword. He says it like it’s a normal question, the start of a normal conversation, as if he hasn’t just killed ten men on his own.
“She’s my sister,” I say. “He took her from me.”
He nods. “He’s a bad man,” he says. “I can’t let him live.” But what about Jolie?
“I’ll kill her if you come any closer,” the king says, and in his tone is a promise. I see him drawing his thumb across his neck, high atop the wall.
The rider steps toward him.
“I swear to the Mountain Heart, I’ll do it!” Goff screams, pushing his blade into Jolie’s flesh, drawing a trickle of blood.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Jolie cries.
“Don’t!” I shout, both to the rider and to the king.
The rider looks back, but there’s no uncertainty on his face. I see him slip a knife from his belt, using the width of his body to hide the motion from Goff.
I signal No! with my eyes, but he ignores it, turns, throws the knife toward the king and my sister.
The sound of the knife embedding in flesh and bone is sickening.
Blood flies.
The king slumps over, still clutching his knife.
Footsteps thump onto the landing outside the door.
With a whirl of his cape, the rider leaps past me, his sword raised. I spin around as he deflects an axe, a metal club, and a sword, each of which come flying through the entrance in short succession.
Past him, hordes of guards clamber up the stairs, pushing forward. The rider swings wildly, forcing them back, throwing them back, looking over his shoulder, looking right into my eyes. “Save her,” he says.
With a sharp yank, he ducks through the door, pulling it shut behind him.
I rush to it, slide the thick, metal latch across, locking us inside.
Before I can spin back to Jolie, I hear the most awful sound.
It’s a laugh. The king’s not dead.
~~~
I turn to face Goff, my heart skipping a beat when I see the truth.
Goff is dead—at least the man I believed to be the king, the tall, strong, throne-sitting man—lying in a red pool, a knife embedded in his heart.
But another man has replaced him, shorter, older, more grizzled, with a wispy beard and unkempt hair that stinks of crazy, jutting out from his golden crown at odd angles. He looks anything but kingly, and if not for his red, satin robe and glinting crown he might be no more than a castle soothsayer. He must’ve been hiding behind the heavy stone seat, the throne.
“You can’t save her,” the real king says.
“Dazz?” Jolie says, like she wants to know if what the king says is true.
“Everything’s okay, Joles,” I say.
The king laughs. “Okay for whom?” he asks.
To the king I say, “Who was that man?” The dead man.
Goff laughs, his eyes blue and filled with a wild glee. “Captain of the guard,” he says. “You really think I’d stoop so low as to cavort with commoners? While my men obey, the king can play.”
So stupid. I’ve been so stupid. I knew it wasn’t right that the king would speak to Wes and I, that he would venture into the dungeons to stop our original escape attempt. But I didn’t listen to the warnings in my head. But now I know. A second chance to make things right.
I know I can’t go right at him. He won’t hesitate to kill her and then take his chances with me. There’s only one thing to do: try to distract him until I can make a move.
“Where are the other children?” I ask, taking a step forward.
“That’s far enough,” Goff says. The trickle of blood reaches Jolie’s neckline. I stop, take a deep breath, fighting my urge to rush at him.
“You want to know about the other children?” he says. “That surprises me, Dazz. Why do you care so much about them when your sister’s right in front of you?”
I grit my teeth and try to stay focused. “I don’t care about them,” I lie. “I just need to know why. Why do you take them? What do you do to them?” I can’t keep the rage out of my voice, bubbling up like a spring. I swallow it down.
“Oh-ho! You’re worried about whether I’ve done anything to your pretty little sister here. Why she’s still here even after all the other children are gone. Is that it?”
The other children are gone? Does he mean—I swallow again—dead?
Goff laughs again. “Kid, you look like you’ve swallowed a frog. If you’re thinking I killed the rest of them, you’re mistaken. I might be a monster, but even a monster has a heart. I sold them, like I have for years. What do I need a bunch of snot-nosed Heater kids running around here for? My servants wait on me hand and foot. My guards protect me…well, try to protect me, although they’re not doing the best job of it lately, are they?”
I’m dumbfounded, speechless. He sold the Heater children? To who? And for what?
“Mountain lion got your tongue?” Goff says.