She backs up a few steps, toward the closed door, waits for Big to make the next move. “Finish this, Skye,” I say. Her eyes meet mine briefly, but then they’re back on her opponent, who stomps toward her.
Getting a running start she moves to meet him.
Just when he swings one of his bear-claw-sized fists at her head, she slides, feet first, skittering off the stone floor, shooting right through the mammoth gap between his legs.
He grabs at her, but she scrapes past, crying out as the harsh stone tears at her exposed flesh, but when she’s through—and icin’ right, she’s all the way through—she pushes to her feet and leaps on Big’s back, throwing her arms around his thick neck.
He starts screaming like a murderer on the hanging block, reaching over his head, grabbing at her, trying to find an angle to use to pound her into oblivion.
But he can’t find one. Can’t get a good shot in. Just like he couldn’t reach the fungus that Skye had invented.
Frantic, he runs backward, smashing Skye into the wall.
But she hangs on.
He turns and runs backward into the bars of Skye’s cell.
Her body’s taking a beating, but still she hangs on.
Skye digs her heels into his skin and pulls harder, choking the life out of him.
He starts bucking, throwing his head back, trying to crack her face with his skull, but she keeps her head low and to the side, safely out of harm’s way.
Slowly—
Ever so slowly—
Big stops bucking—
Stands there all dazed-like—
Drops to one knee—
Then to the other—
And finally—finally!—flat on his face, with Skye on top.
She did it.
She actually did it.
Chapter Twenny-Four
“You done it, Skye,” Siena says. “I knew you would.”
Others are saying similar things, encouraging words, excited words, because, well, we’re getting out of this Heart-forsaken dungeon.
Skye climbs offa Big’s back, turns to look at us, all sweat-gleaming and muscle-tightened. She wipes the blood off her chin with the back of her hand. A woman looking like this, it should be kinda gross, more than a little off-putting, but nay, it’s the exact opposite. She’s never looked more beautiful.
“Get the keys,” Feve says.
Skye nods and reaches down at Big’s belt, trying to find them.
The dungeon door swings open.
Goff stands there, filling the doorway, wearing the finest clothes that ice country taxes can buy. In the cracks and crevices between him and the door I can just make out the dozens of armed guards behind him.
“You really thought you could just walk out of here? Haven’t you learned that I control everything? Ice country is my game board, and you are the pieces.”
“Go to scorch,” Skye says, even as I’m wondering why the king himself would stoop so low as to visit the dungeons. Something about it doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t he have people to do this kind of work for him?
“Oh I will,” Goff sneers. “But not for a very long time, not with the Cure in my possession. But you, my dear fire country animal, are heading there sooner than you think.”
“Stay away from her,” I growl.
Goff glances at me, a look of surprise flashing across his royal face for a moment, but then morphing to amusement. He laughs. “Interesting,” he muses. “Making friends with the natives I see. What’s this girl to you?”
When I don’t answer, he takes a step forward. “Guards! Please escort her back into her cell.”
Skye stiffens and I think she might take on all of them, Goff included, but then she wisely steps into her cell, says, “I’m goin’,” and even closes the door herself.
A guard moves forward and locks it behind her.
“Is he dead?” Goff says, motioning to the pile of flesh at his feet.
The same guard that locked the door bends down, sticks a couple of fingers to Big’s throat, says, “Just unconscious, your highness.”
Goff smiles an ugly smile. “You couldn’t even kill him?” he says, looking in at Skye, who’s far enough back from the bars that I can’t see her.
“I chose not to,” she says.
“An important difference to you, I suppose,” the king says, “but to me, it shows your weakness just the same. In any event, attacking a palace guard and attempting to escape are sufficient crimes to leave me no choice as to the punishment.”
He pauses, looks down the row, calm as a windless day, meeting each prisoner’s eyes. I’m pretty sure none of us flinch away.
“Let this be a lesson to you all. Foolhardy escape plans and a bunch of children carrying them out will be the death of each and every one of you. Starting with her.” He points a stiff finger at Skye.
Dread fills me, blackening my soul like a fire darkens the inside of a fireplace.
“No,” Siena whispers. “No. You can’t do that.”
Goff laughs, which is beginning to annoy me. “My dear, I’m the king. I can do whatever I want. She’ll be hung at dawn.”
~~~
“Skye?” Siena says for the fourth time. There’s no answer.
I take another look through the wall hole but Skye’s tucked in a corner somewhere, outta sight.
“Skye, we’ll find a way out of this,” I say. I mean it, although I don’t have an icin’ clue how.
“There’s no way out,” Skye says, finally breaking her silence.
“There is,” Siena says, almost pleadingly. “I lost you once, I won’t again.”
“Goff’s one sick man,” Feve says. “He’ll make us watch.”
“Yeah,” Circ says, latching onto the thought. “We’ll all be there. We’ll fight. We’ll do everything we can to break you out.”
“So you can be hung right after me?” Skye says. “Sear it all to scorch, don’t be foolish. Jade and Jolie are as good as dead if we all die. We’re the only ones who know.”
“No,” Siena says. “No. You can’t die. You can’t.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Sister, I’ll fight like a Killer. They won’t get me that easy. I’ll fight ’em with my every last breath, and then keep fightin’ even after I got none left.”
I close my eyes as reality sets in. There’s no escapin’ what’s comin’. The king probably knew exactly what would happen with all of us born fighters in the dungeon together. He wanted us to try to escape, so he could have his fun. So he could give us hope and then snatch it away. So he could make us watch him kill one of our own. With a jerk I realize that’s who these people from fire country are to me. My own. All of them, even Feve. He may not like me, and I may not much like him, but we’re in this together now.
And Skye, well, there’s something with her that’s worth exploring. I can’t let her slip away so fast. I just can’t. But there’s nothing for it. There’s no plan that’ll work. There’s no spy I can call upon. There’s just me, Dazz, who’s failed at everything I’ve tried for the longest time. Except fighting. So like Circ said, that’s what we’ll do. Every last one of us.
Fight until they stick us in the ground.
~~~
There’s no dinner tonight. My stomach’s all clenched up, aching and aching, but it’s not because I’m hungry. Every last ache is for her.
Every beat of my heart seems to ring out, louder than ever, like a dull bell ringing, counting down the moments on her life. I squeeze my chest tight, try to slow down my heart’s frantic pace, but on and on it beats, never ceasing, speeding up if anything.
Big’s gone. It took half a dozen guards to carry him out.
Siena and Skye talk across my cell, but I shy away from it, staying against the back wall, because I don’t want to intrude. I’m nobody, just an outsider, someone they met by a strange twist of fate that left me with a bloodied nose and a black eye. And Skye with a death sentence.
They talk about all kinds of things, stories from t
heir childhood and all that, and although her voice hides it well, I can sense the tears on Siena’s cheeks. Skye, however, is herself, as tough and stalwart as ever, talking as if it’s just another night, rather than the night to end all nights for her.
“Siena,” she says. “You take good care of Circ, you hear me? Treasure him like you always have. Don’t ever take him for granted. Guys like him don’t grow on pricklers these days.”
“I will,” Siena sobs, and I feel a hot tear slip down my cheek, the first in a long time, since the Cold took my father. I wipe it away with an angry hand. Wes stares at me across the hall, brows heavy.
“And you, Circ,” Skye says, a little louder, “don’t let me hear of you doin’ anythin’ to hurt my lil sis, or you know I’ll find a way to kick yer butt from wherever I am.”
“I won’t,” Circ says.
She’s not stopping there. Everyone’s getting a turn. “Feve,” she says, “you’ve done some searin’ stupid things in yer time, and you’ve hurt me and my sister more’n anyone, save fer my father, but yer more’n yer past, more’n what you done. Throw it all behind you and be the man yer capable of.”
“I’ll make you proud,” Feve says.
“Wilde, my sister,” Skye says. “You might have a different mother, a different father, but you’ll always be my sister.” Another freezin’ tear splashes below me and I scrub at my eyes with my fists.
“I know, Skye. And you mine. Go with honor,” Wilde says.
“Buff,” Skye says, and I stop rubbing my face. I didn’t expect us to be included in her goodbyes. We’re just Icers. “You seem like a good fella, and you’ve got a good friend sittin’ ’ere ’side me. He seems like he’s got more thunder in him than a storm sometimes. Help him control it ’fore he searin’ gits himself killed, will ya?”
I can’t hold back the laugh that chokes outta my throat. “I’ll try,” Buff says, as if he’s just been given the biggest challenge of anyone.
“Uh, Dazz’s brother,” Skye says.
“Wes,” he reminds her, watching me when he says it.
“Thank you fer tryin’ to help us. When you think of me, I hope you think of someone who tried to pay you back, who tried to fight fer you the same way you fought fer me.”
“I will,” Wes says, tucking his head in his hands. He barely knows her at all, and yet I can tell he feels her, the truth in her. The realness.
“Now git yer rest everyone,” she says and I stop moving, stop fidgeting, just sit there like a stone, waiting. Has she forgotten me? She mentioned me in her speech to Buff, so maybe that was all she had to say. I hang my head, knowing full well I shouldn’t expect more than that considering we’re only a few days from having met each other.
But still—I’d hoped.
Selfishness. That’s what my thoughts are, plain and simple. She’s gonna be hung and I’m worried about whether she’s thinking of me the night before she dies.
But still—I’d hoped. I won’t sleep tonight.
Not one wink.
~~~
I musta fallen asleep because my eyes jerk open suddenly. The wall torches continue to burn, because Big’s probably not conscious enough to put them out. Everything’s quiet, except I know something woke me up.
A stone clatters around my feet, which are sticking out into the middle of my cell, away from my head, which is resting uncomfortably against the wall. I look at the rock, changing color from orange to red to yellow and back to gray as the flames flicker.
Clatter, clatter.
Another stone careens across my cell, skipping all the way to where it rests by my side. I curl my fingers around it, retrace its path to where it musta come from.
The hole in the wall. Skye’s hole.
I slide on over to it, blinking away the sleep I didn’t expect in the first place.
Skye’s looking at me. “Icy Dazz,” she says. My toes curl slightly.
“What’re you doing awake?” I say.
“Hard to sleep on yer last night,” she says. I cringe, wondering how I manage to consistently say stupid things through this hole.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t me—”
“I’m just kiddin’ ya,” Skye says. “Don’t git yer—whaddya call the small clothes you wear under yer other clothes?”
“Skivvies?” I say, like a question.
“Sure. Whatever. Don’t git yer skivvies all in a knot.”
“Skye, I—”
“No,” she says. “It’s my night to do the talkin’. ’Cause if I’m talkin’, I ain’t fallin’ apart, I ain’t losin’ the dignity I found when I left my father behind to join the Wildes. I won’t lose that, not tonight.”
“I’m sorr—”
“What’d I say?” she says, showing me the finger she’s got to her lips.
I don’t say anything. Just wait.
“Better,” she says, sending her eyes through again. “I know we ain’t hardly more’n strangers, but I’ve got feelin’s for you, Dazz, I’ll go right on out and say it, ’cause, after all, what do I have to lose, right?” I nod, feeling a burst of something good in my chest. I don’t say anything because she told me not to.
“I don’t go chasin’ after guys. I don’t got a Circ, like Siena. I’ve never…” Her voice falters for the first time. “Dazz, I’ve never kissed a guy,” she says.
Not what I expected her to say. How could a girl like her not have kissed anyone? She should have fire country guys leaping over each other to get to her. I don’t say anything, because, well, you know why.
“Well, ain’t ya gonna say somethin’?” she says.
I almost chuckle, but I hold it in. “I thought I wasn’t allowed.”
Now she does laugh. “You take my words pretty seriously, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say.
“Why?” she says. “I ain’t smart, the sun goddess knows that as well as anyone. I got things to say, but they’re probably not always the right things.”
I gawk at her brown eyes through the hole. The right things? She’s worried about saying the right things when every time we speak I’m the one bumbling along. “You’re wooloo,” I say, turning her fire country word back on her.
She laughs again. “Ain’t that the truth,” she says. “Did you see how I rode that big fella like a searin’ tugbull?”
“I did,” I laugh. “I was most impressed.”
“Ain’t you wonderin’ why I’ve never kissed nobody?” she asks, changing the subject quicker than a rabbit hopping to his hole when he hears the hoot of an owl.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I say. “But yah, I figured you’d have kissed dozens of guys by now.”
“You callin’ me a shilt?” she says, her tone darkening.
“What? Nay! I mean, I don’t know what that even is. All I meant was that as beautiful as you are I’d think guys would be lining up across fire country for a chance to win you over.”
“Flattery won’t git you far with me,” she says.
“How about honesty?” I say, finally feeling the words flowing the way they’re meant to.
“I wanna kiss you,” she says matter-of-factly, like she’s saying she wants another plate of gruel, or the sky is red, or ice country is cold, or any of a dozen other normal things to say.
“You—you do?”
“Scorch yes, I do, Dazz. Yer smoky, you make me laugh, I ’spect without even tryin’, and you got a good heart.” Be asleep, Buff. Be asleep.
“We should try,” I say, feeling my blood rushing all over the place, waking up my whole body.
“This is a searin’ thick wall,” she says. “And this hole ain’t big enough to git more’n a hand through.” As if to demonstrate, she sticks her fingers through. My confidence is roaring like a just-woken beast, and I feel like the old Dazz, the one who could catch girls’ attention, even if he couldn’t keep them. I grab her hand, kiss it, stars flashing behind my eyelids. Ice this wall! I’ve got the urge to pound my way through it, fist by fist, wit
hout regard for my bones breaking.
I give her hand back, look through at her. There’s a wildness in her eyes and I know everything I’m feeling is mutual, and she’s considering pounding away too, meeting me in the middle, in a big old pile of dungeon rubble. “Bars,” I say, but she’s already moving in that direction, gone from sight.
I rush along the wall to the bars, jam my head and arms through, feeling the metal poles cinch around me, stopping me. Her head’s through too, and she’s reaching for me, and our hands are touching, and now our arms—I’ve got one hand in her hair, running through it wildly, and the other on her jaw, cupping it, touching the dark bruise where Big hit her.
I strain against the tightening bars, feeling the dull pressure of the metal as it bruises my ribcage, but keep pushing, getting another inch, Skye doing the same, trying, trying, icin’ trying to—
—meet in the middle where—
—her lips can meet mine, where—
—she can get her first kiss, and me, my first real kiss, her lips closing in, so close I can see the pink tinge on them but then—
—we can’t go any further, and we’re just dangling there, hugging each other awkwardly, wishing we had another inch. Just one more inch.
The dungeon door creaks open.
Chapter Twenny-Five
We stop moving. Stop struggling against the bars.
“What do you think yer doin’?” a familiar voice says.
Can’t be.
Can’t.
I’m dreaming up the whole thing. Skye’s words—I wanna kiss you—weren’t real, at least no realer than my imagination made them.
I pull back, and Skye does too, strain on her face as she wedges back between the bars. I do the same, grunting as the metal tightens, tightens, tightens, and finally releases me. The whole time I’m trying to look past Skye, but I can’t see anything except the top bits of an open door, dark and empty, and then—