“I am,” says the musical voice.
“Yes you are,” says Buff, like me, choosing the wrong time for a bad line. “I’m Buff. And my friend’s Dazz.”
“I’m Circ,” says the other guy, the non-Marked one. Circ, Siena, Wilde, Feve, and Skye. Skye.
“Got it,” I say. “So the ladies joined the Wildes. Then what?”
“My father tried to burnin’ kill us,” Skye says. “But we searin’ near killed him and half his Hunters.”
“I bet you did,” I say, rubbing my bruised nose.
“Then when the Glassies attacked the Heaters, we went to help them. Not ’cause of my father. ’Cause of the rest of the Heaters. The good ones.”
“We showed up to help, too,” says Feve. “The Marked.”
“Yeah, when the fight was mostly over,” Siena says. There’s a hint of something in her voice. Not hate necessarily, but something bordering on it, animosity maybe. She doesn’t like Feve, and maybe not the Marked in general.
“The Heaters, Wildes, and Marked,” I say. “The Tri-Tribes, right?”
“Right,” Circ says. “Roan was killed, most of the—”
“Wait, Roan’s dead?” Buff says.
“Searin’ right,” Skye says, not a speck of sadness for her father in her voice. “Glassies killed him deader’n two tons of tug meat.”
Well, that explains why the trade stopped. Given the secrecy, I wonder if he didn’t orchestrate the whole thing. He and Goff. Skye and the rest know about the Cure, but I wonder if they know about the “special cargo”…
Circ continues. “Most of the Greynotes were killed too. Given how small each tribe’s numbers were, we declared a truce amongst us and formed the Tri-Tribes. At least until the danger from the Glassies passes.”
“Why do the Glassies want to kill you?” I blurt out. There’s silence for a minute, so I say, “They seem to like us just fine.”
“You’ve seen them, Icy?” Feve says incredulously.
“Well, yah. Not that often, but they come up the mountain from time to time. Only to meet with the king though.”
“What does the king have to do with the Glassies?” Feve’s questions are filled with sharp edges, like jagged rocks and icicles.
“I dunno. I assume something trade related,” I say. “It’s all a bit secretive, and Goff doesn’t really tell the Icers anything.”
“Doesn’t make any sense,” Circ mutters.
“Doesn’t make one burnin’ lick of sense,” Skye agrees.
I’m missing something. “What doesn’t?” I look through the hole, but Skye’s eyes aren’t there. The back of her head rests against the wall.
Skye’s not talking, so Circ says, “Goff’s trading with Roan on one hand and then dealing with the Glassies on the other. Seems like he’s straddling the middle, playing both sides. Or he’s really on one side, and helping the other.”
“But he’d be helping your side by giving you the Cure,” I say.
“But my father didn’t share it ’round,” Siena interjects.
“But Goff doesn’t know that,” I reply.
“But you don’t know what the scorch yer talkin’ ’bout!” Skye suddenly yells, twisting her eyes around and pointing them back through the hole at me.
“Sorry,” I say, feeling hot, although there’s a cool chill in the dank dungeon air. “Look, I’m not trying to defend Goff, or Roan, I’m just trying to understand things.” I wonder if now’s the time to ask about the children cargo. Probably not, there’s enough on the table already.
“Us, too,” Wilde says. “Skye?”
“I’m sorry, too,” she says, although I’m not sure she would’ve said it if Wilde hadn’t pushed her to.
“Maybe I can help,” I say. “Let me tell you what I know.”
~~~
So I tell them mostly everything, from the beginning. My gambling mistakes, the job, how we learned about the Cure, how Goff is hiding it from the Icers almost exactly like Roan was keeping it secret from the Heaters, about the job suddenly ending and Buff and I going looking for answers and finding Skye and Feve. I only leave out the part about Jolie getting taken and the children being traded for the Cure. I don’t even know why I skip it, but Buff doesn’t say anything.
“So Goff is keeping the Cure all for himself, too,” Wilde says. “Interesting. We thought part of the trade agreement was keeping the Heaters out of ice country so as to not spread the Fire.”