Ice Country

Abe raises a hand, silencing me. “Don’t worry’bout the guards. We’re ’ere to git you out.”

“Out?” I say. “What are you talking about?Why would you—”

“Don’t question it, kid, we ain’t got muchtime.” As Abe stomps over to my cell, he jangles a set of keys inhis hand.

“How did you—what did you…?” I can’t get thewords out, because I’m so confused it’s like I’m standing on theceiling, and everything’s up instead of down, right instead ofleft, backwards and twisted. Abe’s helping me? I mean, he alreadydid, but now he’s really helping me, likeif-he-gets-caught-his-head-will-roll kind of helping.

“Later,” Abe says, turning a key in the lock.The cell door swings open.

I hear, “Abe?” from down the row. Buff standsup, rubbing his eyes, probably thinking he’s dreaming too.

“Yah, Fluff, it’s me and the whole gang.” Heleaves me to gawk at Tower and Brock, who’re waiting by the door,Tower looking the other way. There’s a click and a moment laterBuff’s by my side, as free as I am.

Everyone’s waking up now, making tired andcurious noises. Wes crawls over to the bars, eyes as wide as ifhe’s been awake for hours. Abe says nothing, just opens his doortoo.

“We gotta go, kid,” Abe says to me. “We ain’tgot a spare second ’fore more guards’ll come.”

I look at Skye, who’s looking back at me,horror all over her face. “What about them?” I say. What abouther? I add in my head.

Abe shoots me a look, rolls his head around.“C’mon, kid, really? You expect me to break out a bunch ofHeaters?”

“I’m the only Heater,” Circ says. “You canleave me if you like. Get the others out.”

“No,” Siena says. “If he stays, I stay.”

“You’re all stayin’ as far’s I’m concerned,”Brock growls. “Abe, we gotta go. Now!”

“You comin’ or what?” Abe says, staring at meand my two brothers, one by blood, one by everything else.

I look at Buff, then Wes, and last at Skye.Go, she mouths.

“Not without them,” I say. “All of them.”

~~~

It doesn’t take more than a minute for Abe tounlock all the cell doors. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but Ithink the thought of leaving empty handed is worse to him thanleaving with his hands way fuller than he expected.

“Why’re you doing this?” I ask him as hesnaps open the last lock, Skye’s. She’s watching us bothcuriously.

“Later,” Abe says.

“Thank you,” I say, clapping him on theshoulder.

“Don’t get all snowy on me or I’ll throw youback inside and eat the key,” Abe says.

“Thank you, too, Tower,” I say. Hightower,well, he does his usual. “And Brock,” I add, half-joking.

“Shut the chill up ’fore I smash yer facein,” Brock says. I shut up.

Abe moves for the door and so does everyoneelse, but I let them go past. Brock hands each of them a weapon asthey pass by, a sword or an axe or a knife. The weapons gleambright and new and look suspiciously like the ones the guards arealways carrying.

The only one who doesn’t move is Skye, stillin her cell. “This is our only chance,” I say.

“Them fellas, they delivered the Heaterchildren to the king?” she asks.

“Yah. And so did I,” I remind her.

“But you only did it once. And you told uswhy. They probably did it again and again and again, countlesstimes. They mighta been the ones who gave him my sister.”

“Maybe,” I say, “but I don’t think theywanted to. There’s something I’ve been missing. And they’re helpingus now—that’s more than anyone else has done. We can describe yoursister to them, maybe they’ll remember her.” I’m pleading now,trying to get her outta that cell, so we can escape together, somaybe one day we’ll be able to finish what we started before Abeshowed up.

She swallows hard, steps out, so close to me,closer than we’ve been since I chased her in the forest.Dangerously close. My heart drums harder. The feelings from beforereturn. There’s no time for this but I have to touch her, have todo something, before it’s too late. She brushes past me and Brockhands her a short dagger.

“Aren’t you the icy one,” Brock says.

“Shut yer tughole,” Skye says.

Smiling, I say, “Don’t mess with her,” andslap him on the back, ignoring both the look he gives me and theaxe he tries to.

~~~

There’s blood and bodies on both sides of thepassage, littering the path beneath our feet. I look back at Brockwith a question, and he says, “Don’t get Hightower worked up. Itain’t pretty.”

Walking behind Skye, I step around and overthe bodies, staying close, feeling her closeness like a promise. Apromise of what could be if we ever get outta the palace.

We climb the steps leading out to the mainhall, but I have to stop halfway up when Skye stops in front of me.Everyone stops, and I see Hightower bending his neck to look aroundthe corner. Then, without even the smallest grunt, he motions forus to follow.

With soft footfalls, we sneak into the hall,leaving the piles of bodies behind us in the dungeons. Skye and Iwalk stride for stride, while Brock jogs past us, cradling the axeI refused, moving toward the front of the column, as if he’s justitching for us to run into more guards.

“Follow my lead,” Skye says as we approachthe high, white archways that lead to the palace courtyard. Iplan on it, I think to myself.

The archways fly away overhead and fresh,cold air fills my lungs, sharpening my senses.

A cry goes up from one of the watchful towerguards. A dozen other wall guards turn and let out a chorus ofshouts, alerting the groundsmen, who are lounging in the yard,probably not expecting any action from behind the safety of thehigh, stone wall.

Our group breaks into a run, scatteringacross the yard, making us each an individual target. An arrow zipspast my head, so close its tail feathers leave behind a buzzing inmy ear. The wall guards are shooting at us.

I dart left, following after Skye, who’smoving faster than the wind now that we’re outside, opening up herlong strides, just a blur of brown and grace. A guard standswaiting, clutching a two-headed battle axe, his face harder thanthe metal of the weapon he’s carrying.

Skye closes in.

He swings—

—but she’s already ducking, ramming into himshoulders and head first, knocking him flat on his arse, the axespi

I gawk at her as she climbs off the deadguard, making the act of killing look so easy that I wonder howmany times she’s done it before. More times than my zero, that’sfor sure.

While I’m acting my usual idiot-part andstanding around watching Skye in action, I see a shadow closing infrom my left. I turn sharply, catching the glint of metal before Isee the face of the guard wielding the long sword.

I jump back, narrowly avoiding gettingslashed to ribbons as the guard brings the sword chest-high acrossthe empty space I was just standing in. Anger floods my face withwarmth as I rock back on my heel and then spring forward, using myarm and hand like a club, bashing him over the head. I finally seehis eyes, but only when they widen and roll back into his head. Heslumps to the ground.

I pick up his sword.

I throw it back down, having never reallyused one before.

Another guard rushes me, wielding a battleaxe. Maybe even a fool with a sword woulda been better than what Iam now: a weaponless fool.

I dodge his first slash and, getting insidehis weapon’s arc, crush my elbow into his jaw. But he recoversnicely, jabbing my nose with the butt end of the axe. It hurts likechill and I see stars for a second, feeling the discomfort andmetallic taste of blood ru

When I grab the handle of his axe, he pullsback on it sharply, trying to wrench me loose, and we grapple withit for a few seconds, him pulling, me pulling, the axe slicingaround at a blank spot of air.