“You gotta thing for my sister?” Siena says,looking me in the eyes suddenly.

I laugh and if I had any liquid in my mouth Iwoulda surely spewed it out. Like sister, like sister apparently.Blunter than a lumberjack’s axe at the end of a long wood-choppingday.

“Is it that obvious?” I say.

“No,” she says. “But she’s my sister, so Ilook out for her, and she does the same for me.”

“I don’t want to cause any problems,” I say,“especially not if she and Feve…”

“Feve?” Siena whispers. She looks across theway to make sure he’s sleeping. “She’s not with Feve. Skye knowsI’d kick her butt halfway to ice country if she was with the likesof that baggard.” She scratches her head, as if thinking. “Well, Is’pose we’re already in ice country, so I’d hafta kick her back tofire country, but you know what I mean, don’t you?”

I nod, smiling. Siena, also like her sister,is a total crack up. “You don’t like Feve much?” I ask.

Siena cringes. “We have a bit o’ history—andnot the good kind,” she says.

“Like you and he were…”

She cringes double. “Blech. No, nothing likethat. I always been with Circ. Always will.” That brings me back tomy unasked question. My heart hammers, though I don’t know why.It’s just a question.

“Siena, can I ask you something?”

“Long as it’s not ’bout Feve, I ’spectso.”

“Nay, not Feve. Circ. What you two have gotseems so…” I say, searching for the right word without soundinglike some doe-eyed school girl. Beautiful? Buff would slap me forsaying something like that. Magical? A harder slap.

“Perfect?” Siena says.

I nod. “Yah. You just seem to fit each other.I’ve never seen anything like it before.” There are plenny ofcouples in ice country. My parents, who were better together thanmost, at least before my father died, still seemed like a roundcrossbeam in a square fitting-hole. And the three girlfriends I’vehad, well, they were like ice to my fire. Or in the case of thewitch, the opposite. One would melt the other, leaving a big oldlake of slushy water. And then whoever was the slushy water wouldrise up and douse the fire, leaving it a big old mound of wet,muddy ash.

Siena laughs and it reminds me of Skye, whichsends a bit of energy zinging down my arms. “Nobody’s perfect,”Siena says. “Everyone knows that, but I guess with me and Circ itwas something like fate of the gods I s’pose. Everything tried tostop us from being together—once I even thought, really trulybelieved, he was dead—but then some power greater’n anything ushumans have, pulled us right quick back t’gether. And we ain’tletting go. Never again.”

She pauses, and I don’t have any morequestions, but I feel like she’s got more to say so I just wait,looking off at one of the torches burning from its fixture on thewall.

“I guess you know when you’ve found your trueCall when everything else just melts away and it’s you and them andthem and you, and you want nothing more’n to stay like that foreverand ever. And then time stops even though it can’t, can’t possibly,’cause no one can stop time, but it does, it really stops. You lookat them and you see yourself, your past, your future, all at once.And it’s enough—no, more’n enough. And everyone acts like it was achoice—and you were so brave for making that choice—but it wasnever a choice, not really.”

I stare at her, shocked, not expecting tohear all that. It’s a lot to take in. I haven’t ever felt like thataround anyone, although Skye’s definitely changed my perspective onwomen and relationships.

There’s something about being around Skyethat’s so icin’ energizing. She could just as well punch me in theface as kiss me, and I suspect the effect would be shockinglysimilar. A jarring so deep it shakes my very soul. She’s got atoughness in her you can’t teach. You’re either born with it ornot. She’s got something special in her, that’s for sure.

But with everything that’s happened, firstwith the notorious cheating witch, to losing all my silver, toseeing what I’ve seen, to losing Jolie, and now to meeting Skye,maybe my heart’s ready to heal. I need to get back on thefigurative snow angel, so to speak.

For the first time in a while, everythingseems okay, even when I know it’s not. But at least now I know itcan be. I have hope.

Abruptly, the dungeon door is thrown open. Weboth look in its direction, expecting to find Big carrying ourevening meals of unidentifiable slop. Big’s there alright, but notwith dinner.

He pushes Wes through the door in front ofhim.

He’s got chains on his hands and feet.

Chapter Twenny-Two

From the beginning,it was my plan, and mine alone. An arrogant plan, one that’s doomedus all. My best friend. My brother. Jolie. And these fine peoplefrom fire country. Well, mostly fine. Feve’s been giving me thedeath stare from the time Big shoved Wes into the cell next to him,across from me.

“No funny business,” Big hollers to Wes,before leaving him to stare across at me.

“What happened?” I say, wondering whether itreally matters.

“I got caught,” Wes says, managing a tightsmile. A bad joke, especially under the circumstances.

Everyone’s awake from their naps now, pokingtheir heads between their cell bars. “Who’s that?” Skye says. I dipmy head, hating to have to tell her. Then she says, “Wait just oneCotee-nibblin’ moment. That’s yer brother, ain’t it? He’s thetugblazin’ spittin’ image of you, ’cept not so rough-lookin’.”

“Everyone, this is Wes, my brother. Wes, meetthe people of fire country, the ones you tracked to thepalace.”

“Hi people of fire country,” Wes says.

“Hi, Wes,” Buff says.

“Hey, Buff.”

“How’d you get caught, Icer, brother ofbad-plan-maker?” Feve says without a smile.

I stare at the ground, feelingfire-country-hot all of a sudden.

“It was my own stupidity,” Wes says. “Thisisn’t Dazz’s fault.”

I look up. “It’s all my fault,” I say, notletting my older brother take my blame away. None of us would behere if not for me.

Wes continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “No onereally paid me any attention, letting me move about the palacepretty much as I chose, so long as I was there to prepare the mealson schedule. I got too confident, started sneaking places Ishouldn’t have. Most doors were open or unlocked, and Iinvestigated them all, but they were all just rooms for normalpalace activities, like dining or meeting or preparing. Nothingunusual. This was all on the first day, mind you.

“Today I got bolder, seeking out the darkestand the least-traveled places in the palace. After the lunchpreparations and cleanup were over, I found a staircase that seemedto lead to nowhere. It spiraled round and round and up and up andinto one of the towers, only at the top there was no way in. Just astone wall and pair of gleaming brass mountain lion heads, mountedon the wall, mouths open in a perpetual growl.”

“Sounds like a dead end,” Circ says from downthe row.

“That’s what I thought, but when I went toinspect the lions, there were faint cracks running from above andbelow them, like someone had torn away the rocks at one time, andthen put them back together piece by piece, so perfectly you couldbarely tell they’d been pulled away.

“So I pushed on the lions, hard, with all mymight, and guess what? They pressed into the wall.”

“Into the wall, Icer?” Feve says.

“Yah. Right in, like there was nothing behindthem. But that’s not the strangest thing. As soon as the brasslions disappeared, there was the sound of chains pulling, clinkingthrough a pulley. The door started to rise.”

“Holy blaze!” Skye says. “A secret room.”

“More than that,” Wes says, jamming his eyesshut as if they’re stinging. When they flash open, there’s hurt inthem. “A prison,” he says. “A child prison. Past the door werelittle bodies, brown-skinned and every one of them shrinking backfrom me as if I might hit them, or do worse. I just stood there fora minute, shell-shocked, searching the faces, wishing beyond wishesthat she’d be there. Jolie, that is. Do they know about Jolie?”