I nod, my eyes never leaving Wes’s face,urging him silently to continue, to tell me the part where he findsJolie, where he tries to escape with her, where he gets caught andthey take her away again. The part where at least she’s stillalive.

“She wasn’t there,” he says, and my heartsinks into my empty stomach, beating dully, thumping a hole in mygut.

“Maybe you just didn’t see her?” Buffsays.

“Maybe,” he says. “Before I could go in,really look at them all, someone grabbed me from behind, threw abag over my head, and dragged me down here.”

His words are still hitting my ears, but I’mnot really hearing them, because I’m back at how he didn’t seeJolie, how she wasn’t there, how for all we know she’s been plantedin the ground somewhere, having outgrown her usefulness to theking.

“Any of them children you saw older?” Skyeasks, and I want to bang my head against the wall for not thinkingto ask it myself. She probably thinks I’m all selfishness and nocaring. Always focused on my own problems and no one else’s. She’slost a sister, too. We’ve got that in common, which is what I gottaget through my freeze-brained head.

Wes shakes his head. “They all looked to beseven, eight years old. Nine at the most. No older than that.Why?”

Skye just slaps a fist in her palm, so I tellhim what Skye and Siena told me about their sister.

“This whole thing is icin’ sick,” Wes sayswhen I finish.

“We’re knocked,” Siena says. “There ain’t noway out now. Not unless the sun goddess decides to shine down onus.”

I grab the bars, slump against them. Thesheet of gray clouds covering ice country will prevent the sungoddess or any other goddess from seeing any of what’s happeninghere.

No one says anything after that.

~~~

I don’t even bother with the gruel. It’stasteless and unsatisfying anyway. My stomach rumbles, but I ignoreit. The others eat theirs and keep up a healthy chatter, all abouthow else they can escape, whether there’s any other way now thatour inside man’s a little too far on the inside.

I ignore that, too, throwing all my thoughtsinto beating on myself, what a failure I am. Everything I’ve doneover the last year has been a complete and utter disaster.Nothing’s gone right, nothing’s felt right, nothing’s been right.Every move’s been a mistake, picking apart my life piece byice-sucking piece.

I’m about to see if I’m flexible enough tokick my own arse, when there’s a “Psst!” from beside me. I lookover. It’s Skye, because, of course, who else would it be? There’sno one else over there.

I glance around. The others are stilltalking, even Wes, passing thoughts back and forth with Siena, Feveand Circ, like he’s known them his whole life. That’s Wes’s way.He’s a fitter-inner, always has been.

Surprised, I scoot over to Skye, close enoughthat if I reached out like Siena and Circ always do, and if she didthe same, then we could touch through the bars.

“Ready to stop feelin’ burnin’ sorry foryerself?” she asks.

I don’t know what I expected her to say, butnot that. “I freezed everything up,” I say.

“You tried,” Skye says. “That’s all you cando in this sun goddess searin’ life.”

I look at her and she looks at me and I getlost so quick it’s like I’m in another place and maybe there are nobars and no walls and nothing at all separating us. Her handreaches out into the empty space between us. I stare at it,sun-kissed and full of strength. Strength I’m missing, ever sinceWes was pushed through the dungeon door. Strength I need.

I reach out and take it.

It’s an icin’ good feeling, her hand touchingmine, made up of something more solid and realer than the few otherwomanly touches I’ve felt since I became a man. Holding her handfor just those few short seconds makes those three other girls seemlike distant memories.

She lets go, a smile on her face as she pullsaway. “I like you,” she says. “Even better when you’re like this.Alive.”

~~~

The others aren’t giving up and neither am I.There’s too much at stake, for all of us.

We’ve got a simple plan, but it might justwork. It has to. The only thing left to decide is who—

“I once wrestled a bear with my bare hands,”Buff says.

“It was a very hairy, drunken man,” I say,“and he ended up passed out on top of you.”

“What’s a bear?” Siena asks.

“He sure felt like a bear,” Buff says,scratching his head.

“You’re not the best fighter here, Buff,” Isay, “so just let it go.”

“And you are, Icy?” Feve says, forcing me toduck to avoid his eye darts.

“Why does he keep calling you ‘Icy’?” Weshisses from across the way.

I shake my head, both because I don’t know ifwe’ll ever decide who’s best suited to carry out the plan, and atmy brother, because, well, there’re some things that just can’t beexplained, at least not easily. “I’m not saying anything,” I say.“But I doubt if you’re the one either.”

Feve glares at me, and I glare rightback.

“Quiet! Everyone!” Wilde snaps. Her commandechoes once, twice, and then fades, along with all our arguments.“Good sun goddess,” she says. “You’d think we were from differentplanets rather than different countries. Let’s just take a vote andbe done with it.”

“Are we all eligible for the vote?” Buffasks.

“Yes.” No one has anything to say to that, soWilde says, “We’ll go around and everyone can name who they thinkis the best fighter.”

“I’ll start,” Buff says. “Dazz. I’ve seen himtake down three knife fighters with just his fists and maybe a headbutt or two.” I silently thank my friend for the vote ofconfidence.

“Head and butt seem to go together all toowell for him,” Feve mumbles.

I bite back a retort. No one’s voted for himyet so…

Wilde says, “Skye. She trains my youngwarriors and she’s the best I’ve seen.” I look at Skye but there’sno pride on her face. Just belief.

Feve says, “Circ.”

“Siena,” Circ says.

“Circ,” Siena says.

“That’s two for Circ, one for Skye, one forSiena, and one for Dazz,” Wilde says, recapping.

Wes says, “Dazz.” I look at him, surprised,and he says, “I know, I know, I’ve never seen you fight. But I hearpeople talk, and no matter how many times I’ve had to clean up thecuts and bruises on your face, they always say the other guy lookedten times worse.” I nod, feeling a burst of pride in my chest. Inever realized he listened to the talk about me.

“Skye,” I say, knotting the count at twoapiece for me, Circ, and Skye.

“The decision is yours, Skye,” Wildesays.

She doesn’t flinch, just smiles, not oneshred of doubt in her eyes. “Me,” she says.

Chapter Twenny-Three

Morning comes with aquick step and a dive.

There’s plenny of energy buzzing through thedungeon. I even choke down my whole plate of cold gruel, so as toensure I’m ready for whatever’s coming.

As quick as the morning came, the eveningmeal’s like a distant mountain, way off on the horizon, days andweeks and months away. We do different things to pass the time:sleep, throw Buff’s rock around (Yah. The question game again.),talk about anything and nothing. Buff even sings a little, in hisdeep baritone, making us all laugh with his comedic rendition of“The Woman Who Made Me Cry.” He earns a bellow from Big for thatone. Out of sheer boredom, I expect, Skye tries to taunt Big intothe dungeon, but he just slams the door in all our faces, with afinal warning to shut the freezin’ chill up, or something alongthose lines.

When the door opens again, we’ve all beensilent for a while, wishing away the minutes until we can carry outour plan. I look up expectantly, and I’m sure the others do too,but it’s not Big at the door. It’s a small, thin man, and Irecognize him right away. The servant who King Goff screamed at onthe day Buff and I were captured.