Ice Country

Two small hands flash up, grab at the king’sarm, hold it off, barely, barely, but it’s still moving as Goff’slook of surprise changes back to determination, but I’m stillru

—Jolie bites him, sinks her little teeth intothe flesh of his arm and he cries out, yowls so loudly itmomentarily drowns out the pounding on the door.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t drop the knife.

I’m close now, close enough to

(stop him.)

Close enough to

(save her.)

The thoughts are there but I can’t think themwith the full extent of my mind, just let them slip around theedges, not letting myself believe that we could, that we could

(win.)

I swing hard, putting everything I have leftinto the punch, aimed well over Jolie’s head, at his face, at themalicious eyes of the demon who holds her, even now still trying tostab her, and—

My fist co

He releases Jolie, falls away, his armstabbing wildly at the air behind her as he crumples to the stonefloor.

Jolie’s left standing there, tears in hereyes, a stream of blood ru

“Dazz?” she says.

There’s something in her eyes—

“Dazz?” she says again.

Something’s not right—

“Dazz?” she says, once more, and I steptoward her, ready to take her in my arms, to tell her everythingreally is okay, that I’m here, that the king won’t hurt heranymore, that—

She falls to her knees, her head slumpingforward, right into my arms as I dive down to catch her, to stopher from hitting the floor.

That’s when I see it.

That’s when I see it.

Jolie? Nay, Jolie. Nay.

The blood down her back. The knife embeddedin her skin, gleaming, always gleaming, laughing at me with thevoice of the broken king beyond it.

“Jolie!” I scream, grabbing her, clutchingher to me.

“Dazz, I’m cold,” she says into my chest,which should be a fu

Jolie doesn’t speak like that.

“Dazz?” Her voice again, so i

I kiss her cheeks, wetting them with thetears that are streaming down my own face, over my lips, salty andfresh.

She’s not dying. She’s not. Not on mywatch.

A surge of strength and determination andanger, red hot and fiery, courses through me, but I ignorethe anger. Revenge will come later. Now I have to stop thebleeding.

I lay Jolie down gently, resting her head inmy lap. There’s so much blood—so much I can’t think, can’tspeak—but I know I have to stop it, have to stop the life fromdraining out of her.

I’ve got nothing to use but myself. I clampmy hands around the handle of the knife—the king’s knife—and putpressure around it, try to keep the red liquid from spilling outpast the wound, being careful not to push the blade in farther.Jolie cries out but I have to ignore it, although I’m sobbing andshaking and wanting nothing more than to hold her and kiss her.

“Help!” I scream, but I know no one willanswer. The pounding on the door has stopped, but the men outsideare still yelling, still shouting meaningless words, full of rageand murder. But the murder’s already happened and Heart of theMountain save them if they make it through that door.

“Help, please,” I sob, my tears falling onthe backs of my hands, which are white with effort and strain. Theblood’s not coming out as fast anymore, but Jolie’s stoppedspeaking, her back barely rising and falling with each exhalation.No matter how much pressure I put on her wound, without helpshe’s

(dead.)

“Help…” The word dies on my lips, but I won’tgive up, won’t stop sealing the wound with my own flesh.

The king groans nearby.

Rolls over.

Starts to get up.

“You shouldn’t have done that, kid,” he says,rising up, bigger and taller this close, when I’m slumped to thefloor like an animal. There’s a nasty gash on his forehead where Ihit him, spilling blood down his cheek, some of it getting onto hislips, into his mouth, coating his teeth with a red sheen. His eyeis puffy and turning purple. His other eye is full of crazy.

I don’t stop the pressure on Jolie’s back,try to ignore Goff, pretend he’s not there. If I take my hands awayfrom her back, she dies.

Goff raises a boot in the air, hovers it overJolie as if he might step on her, but then levels it out so it’seven with my head. I close my eyes and brace myself for a kick tothe face, determined not to let go of Jolie.

No matter what.

The blow never comes.

I open my eyes.

Goff’s boot is lowered and he’s fumbling athis belt, searching for something, for…

Another knife.

He holds it up, lets its sharp edges catchthe light, shows it to me.

“I’ll kill you,” I say.

“If you let go of her, you’ll kill her,” hesays.

“And then I’ll kill you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe so, but I’m the one holdingthe knife.”

An impossible decision. If I let go of Jolie,she might die, but if I don’t, Goff will kill us both anyway. Ihave to fight.

It has to be a quick one, or I might be toolate to save her.

“I love you,” I whisper to Jolie, but I don’tknow if she hears me.

Then, weaponless, I stand.

~~~

King Goff slashes at my throat, leaping overJolie’s small body.

I jump back, surprised at the sudde

But I’m not on my heels for long, not withthe rage that’s been roiling beneath the surface of my skin sincethis day began, since Wes died. Finally—finally!—I can let it out,all of it, the fear for Jolie’s life, the anger over Wes’s death,the burning need to take revenge on the wicked man who threatens mywhole world, who’s done unspeakable things.

He feints left, feints right, and then comesup the center, flicking his blade across my abdomen. I’m fast andfull of energy, but he’s faster, a man possessed, and he slices myskin, sending a fierce burn into my gut.

The blood pours out but it’s nothing, a fleshwound, nothing compared to the knife embedded in my sister’s back.The knife that’s killing her while I continue to waste time withthe king.

I leap back, hardening my jaw at the smile onGoff’s face. He moves in, still smiling, gaining confidence.

But when he slashes again, I’m ready, lettingthe knife slide past me even as I grab his arm, twist it, wrench itin an u

Following through, I crush a forearm into hisskull, aiming for the same spot I hit him before, feeling him rockback under the force of the blow. I land on top of him, punchingwith all my might, swinging and swinging, blood misting in my faceas his nose explodes, his lips crack open, still swinging, fistshitting the face of pure evil, not ready to stop, not wanting tostop, but remembering, remembering…

Jolie.

It can’t wait any longer. I have to get backto her, but first Goff has to die.

His knife lies discarded on the floor. Ireach for it, grab it.

I’ve never killed before, but this is a goodplace to start.

I raise the knife just as there’s a final,stone-crushing THUD! and the door crashesopen.

~~~

I whirl around, knife still raised, ready, soready, to fight them all. A hundred men couldn’t stop me when I’mthis close to saving her.