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.
“I’m just surprised,” I say, trying to keep the conversation going.
There’s a heavy thud on the door behind me, which doesn’t bode well for the rider. He lasted a while, but never had a chance against so many foes—not really. I don’t look back.
Goff smiles, looks past me to the door. “Seems we’re finally winning,” he muses. “Should we let them in and end this quickly?”
“Nay,” I say. “Not until I understand.” And freezin’ kill you, I add in my mind.
There’s a heavy thud on the door and the metal bar rattles in its fixture.
Goff smiles, but I’m not sure if it’s at the door or at what I’ve said. “As you wish,” he says. “It’s simple, really. The Stormers want children.”
“The Stormers? But they’re…”
“Attacking us?” the king says, smiling. “I guess I’m not delivering enough of them, or the children aren’t strong enough, who knows? Although this one”—he squeezes Jolie harder—“is a real firecracker, always trying to escape, fighting the guards—I wonder where she gets it from?” He kisses the top of her head.
“Let go of her!” I scream, my rage rising up quicker than I can bite it down.
“Oh-ho, are you forgetting who has the knife to whose neck? Another outburst like that will get her killed,” Goff says, his green eyes gleaming maliciously, as if he’s hoping he gets just such a chance.