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Big tries to look over his shoulder, but whenthat doesn’t work, he slides the plates of food to the ground, andthen swats at his bare back. “Where?” he says.
“Right there,” Skye points. “In the center.No, no, you tug-brained fool. You’ll never reach it that way. ’Ere,let me. I’ve removed the nasty stuff ’fore.”
Big keeps scrabbling helplessly at his back,but then eases arse-first against the bars of Skye’s cell.
“Ooh, there it is, big fella,” Skye says.“It’s even nastier’n I thought, plumin’ out every which way. Ican’t quite get to it through these ’ere bars. Maybe if you comeinside I can git you cleared up right quick.”
Pretty obvious what’s going on here,right?
Yah, Big’s not heavy in the area of brains,or he’s just too obsessed with the idea of fungus eating him fromthe outside in, because he clinks a coupla keys and shoots thatdoor open faster than you can say “moron dungeon master.”
Even stretching as far as I can through mycell bars, I can’t see what’s happening now, so I go to the hole. Ican’t see much, just Skye’s backside, but I keep on looking.
My heart skips a beat, then starts thumpingharder than before.
“C’mon over, big fella, let me have a look,”Skye says. She shifts out of view and I let out an audible sigh. Agiant leg comes into view, as big as a tree trunk. What were wethinking letting Skye be the one to take on this monster? She’shalf his freezin’ size!
Then the leg turns and Skye’s leg flashesout, quicker than lightning, all the bite with twice the grace, andBig cries out with a boisterous bellow that reminds me of the goatsduring mating season.
The ogre doesn’t go down, just staggers awayfrom where I can see, screaming the whole way. Skye streaks pastthe hole and there’s a thud and another Big-sized bellow.
They’re heading for the door.
I clamber to my feet and rush to the bars,just in time to see Big plow through the opening, bashing ashoulder on one side of the metal doorframe, which twists himaround so I can see his face contorted in pain, making him evenuglier, if that’s possible. Skye’s work.
He grabs madly at the door and tries to closeit but—
—Skye’s there already, kicking it backand—
—it swings and crashes off Big’s arm and hitsthe outside of the cell and—
—it’s all happening too fast but in slowmotion, like they’re both walking through heavy drifts of snow, butthen—
—time speeds up suddenly, with Skye a blur offists and feet and elbows and knees, pounding, pounding, hittingBig as hard as she hit me, except again and again and—
—Big’s wailing and covering his head andstaggering around like some drunk at Yo’s pub, occasionallyswatting at Skye, but always missing, always a second too late or afoot too high, but finally—
—just when I think Skye’s going to win thefight without any opposition at all, he co
A direct hit, right on her jaw.
A blind, lucky swing that sounds like a stompand feels, even from where I’m standing, like a bone-breaking blowthat even the toughest scoundrels in ice country would have troublegetting up from.
“Skye!” Siena cries out beside me.
Skye lifts off the ground, floating, flyingfor an instant that might as well be an hour, and then jerks to thehard, stone floor, crumpling in a way that makes her look more likea cloth doll than a person.
My mouth’s agape and I’m staring, juststaring, watching a trickle of blood meander from her nose and overher lip.
She won’t get up from that hit.
She won’t.
She gets up. Slowly at first, but thenfaster, almost with a spring, and I can’t see her face because I’mlooking from behind her, but I know—I know—there’s fury inher brown eyes.
“Get him, Skye!” Siena says and I’m echoingthe thought in my head.
Big’s got his hands away from his face, andhe’s bleeding all over the place, just dripping the red liquid, buthis teeth are clamped shut and he doesn’t look close to beingfinished either. It’s like she’s been pounding on a boulder for thelast few minutes, hoping it’ll break right down the middle, but allshe’s managed to do is knock off a few crumbly edges.
Big takes another wild swing, but Skye dancesaround it, kicks him sharply in the knee, the one he appears to befavoring, keeping his weight off it. He cries out, but steps towardher with his good leg, grabs at her, just missing when she ducks tothe side, punching him with a series of quick jabs to the ribs. Hehollers again, but not with pain, with anger, as if he hardly evenfelt the blows and Skye’s nothing more than an a
He turns quicker than I expect him to, swingstwice more and Skye dodges, but she’s being forced into a corner.She’s down to two options: move back into her cell or retreattoward the dungeon door, which Big locked behind him on the way in.I know she won’t go back in her cell where Big’ll just slam thedoor shut on our escape plan. I haven’t known Skye that long, andyet I know she won’t surrender, won’t give up. Not ever.
She backs up a few steps, toward the closeddoor, waits for Big to make the next move. “Finish this, Skye,” Isay. Her eyes meet mine briefly, but then they’re back on heropponent, who stomps toward her.
Getting a ru
Just when he swings one of hisbear-claw-sized fists at her head, she slides, feet first,skittering off the stone floor, shooting right through the mammothgap between his legs.
He grabs at her, but she scrapes past, cryingout as the harsh stone tears at her exposed flesh, but when she’sthrough—and icin’ right, she’s all the way through—she pushes toher feet and leaps on Big’s back, throwing her arms around histhick neck.
He starts screaming like a murderer on thehanging block, reaching over his head, grabbing at her, trying tofind an angle to use to pound her into oblivion.
But he can’t find one. Can’t get a good shotin. Just like he couldn’t reach the fungus that Skye hadinvented.
Frantic, he runs backward, smashing Skye intothe wall.
But she hangs on.
He turns and runs backward into the bars ofSkye’s cell.
Her body’s taking a beating, but still shehangs on.
Skye digs her heels into his skin and pullsharder, 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 lowand 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 Twe
“You done it, Skye,”Siena says. “I knew you would.”
Others are saying similar things, encouragingwords, excited words, because, well, we’re getting out of thisHeart-forsaken dungeon.
Skye climbs offa Big’s back, turns to look atus, all sweat-gleaming and muscle-tightened. She wipes the bloodoff 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 thecracks and crevices between him and the door I can just make outthe dozens of armed guards behind him.
“You really thought you could just walk outof here? Haven’t you learned that I control everything? Ice countryis my game board, and you are the pieces.”