Ice Country

“Let go of her!” I scream, my rage rising upquicker than I can bite it down.

“Oh-ho, are you forgetting who has the knifeto whose neck? Another outburst like that will get her killed,”Goff says, his green eyes gleaming maliciously, as if he’s hopinghe gets just such a chance.

Thud, thud! The hammering on the dooris getting louder, more persistent. If Goff’s guards get in, it’sover.

“You wouldn’t,” I say.

He laughs and that answers my question. Hewould. He has. Killed children. Enjoyed it. “Don’t be so naïve,Dazz,” he says.

I grit my teeth. I shake my head, trying totake it all in. “Why children?” I ask, pushing the conversationforward. The second it ends Jolie dies.

“How should I know? I don’t even give themour children, just natives from fire country, but I’m sure youalready know that.”

THUD, THUD!

I ignore the pounding, keep things moving.“And you give the Heaters the Cure.”

“Gave the Heaters the Cure,” Goffcorrects. “Since Roan was killed, the situation has changed, becomemore complex. But I never gave him much, just enough to get thechildren. I keep the rest for me and my men.”

“What do the Stormers give you for thechildren?” Food, goods, what? Nothing seems to fit.

“Are you slow, Dazz?” the king says. “Thesame thing I gave Roan, except in much larger quantities.”

The air goes out of my lungs. The reason thebags of dried plants looked so unfamiliar, unlike any plant I’dever seen growing in ice country, was because they weren’t from icecountry.

“The Cure comes from…” I don’t finish thestatement.

“Of course. It comes from storm country.Those plants only grow on the shores of the sea.”

The pieces click, snap, lock, and thenweave together, into a sickening and screwed up tapestrythat somehow, somewhere came to include my little sister, Jolie,ending with a knife to her throat.

THUD! The slam onthe door is the loudest and heaviest yet, but I barely notice it,barely notice the metal bar bending under the pressure.

“Why her?” I say, spitting out thewords, feeling a fresh wave of anger boil to the surface. “You saidyou only traded Heater children, but then you—you—” Memories of thenight I went to visit Jolie at Clint and Looza’s hits me like apunch to the gut. Finding them tied up, silence and darknesssurrounding the house like a suffocating blanket. Seeing them dragJolie out the back. Ru

I can’t speak another word or I’ll loseit.

“I took your sister,” Goff says. “Well, notme personally, but some vile men I dredged up from the RedDistrict. They’ll do anything for silver there.”

“Why?” I growl, pushing him to get to thepoint.

THUD! I’m vaguelyaware of voices shouting behind me, where a crack’s opened up inthe door.

“Let’s just say she caught my eye,” he says,licking his lips.

“Liar!” I roar. “That’s not what your captainof the guard told me.”

“What exactly did he tell you?”

“That she’s a special trade item. That I’mthe insurance to keep her in line,” I say.

The king raises an eyebrow. “I didn’tauthorize him to say that. I’d have needed to punish him if heweren’t already dead,” he muses. “No matter. What you know now isof no consequence to me. In a short while you’ll be dragged acrossthe border with your sister. And she will obey her newmasters, because if she doesn’t it’ll be you that pays forit with pain.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Dazz,” Joliesays.

“I know, Joles,” I say. “So you can’t hurther, Goff. If she’s so special, surely you can’t just kill her hereand now.”

“Tsk tsk, Dazz,” the king clucks. “I thoughtI warned you about being foolish. If she dies, I’ll find anotherlittle girl to replace her in an instant. And another brother orsister or friend to force her obedience.”

Something doesn’t make sense. The Heaterchildren were both boys and girls. “Why a girl?” I ask

The king smirks. “Now you’re asking the rightthings. Because she’ll be betrothed to a young man, of course,” hesays.

“Betrothed?” I say, the word sounding foreignbecause it was so unexpected. “The Stormers want my sister to marryone of their boys?”

“Yes.” One word. The king may have lied abouta lot of things, but this one word rings true. “But not just anyboy. I suspect it’s a boy of some importance to them. A son of aking or the equivalent.”

“Why? Why an Icer?”

“Like I said, they want to ensure hercooperation and subservience to her master, her husband. Perhapsthe young women of their lands are not as…easy to control. And thebrown-ski

There’s a series of sharp cracks against thedoor. Goff glances at the door, then back at me, smiling wider thanever. “Don’t make me out to be such a bad guy,” Goff says. “She’sonly one girl, no one will even notice she’s gone.”

“You stupid, stupid man!” I shout, taking astep forward even as there’s a massive THUD! behind me.

“Not another step or I’ll—”

But I’m not listening, not to the patheticicin’ King who’s got my sister, nor to the incessant pounding at myback. Not anymore. “She’s a child,” I say. “Someone’sdaughter, someone’s sister. My sister. You didn’t thinkanyone would notice? You’re insane.”

I step forward, spurred on by another massiveTHUD!

“Not one more step, kid,” Goff warns.

I hesitate, not because I’m scared of theking, but because it’s still my sister he’s got, still Jolie,biting at her lip and trying not to cry.

“Dazz?” she says, her question full of athousand other questions, none of which I can answer withoutlying.

Men’s voices pummel the door, even as aseries of vicious pounds erupt behind me.

THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD!

I glance back at the door. The bar is fullybent now, the crack in the door widening with each hammer of thebattering ram. “It’s okay, Joles, everything’s okay,” I say,wondering how it will be, how I can speak something I don’t believemyself.

Now is the moment. My moment. My one chanceto make up for everything, for all the mistakes, for all the painand hurt and anguish of the last few days, weeks, months,years.

I step forward and Goff lifts the knife fromJolie’s throat, pulling it back in a slashing motion, as if hewants to shove it all the way through her neck, not content tosimply slit her throat.

I have no choice but to act.

Chapter Thirty-Two

This is it. This isit. My final failure, the ultimate mistake that will leave myfamily broken into a million pieces, so many that my drugged-outmother and me will never be able to pick them all up, fit them backtogether again.

I charge forward, shouting something at thetop of my lungs, something familiar, something powerful—a name—

Jolieeeeee!

—feeling time and distance and life slowingdown, stopping, freezing more solidly than the ice-coated peaks ofthe mountain—

Jolieeeee!

—urging my muscles to go, go, go, faster,faster—

Jolieeeee!

—watching with dread as the knife starts itsdownward arc, gleaming brighter than the eyes of the wicked, wickedman wielding it—

THUD!!!!

—hearing the loudest pound on the door yet,but knowing it doesn’t matter, not now, not ever, prepared to facedeath if I don’t save her.

No time, no time, no freezin’ time, the kniferight there, right there, and she’ll be, she’ll be…