“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I’m following orders.”

“The Skeleton King has probably already worked out a deal with Tohon. And I’m sure it involves turning you, Wynn, and Avry over to him.”

“Your scare tactics won’t work.” Sepp gestured. “Separate them. The king doesn’t want her frozen.”

The guards stood, yanked the net off Kerrick and tossed me aside. They yanked him to his feet and held him tight.

“When I give the signal, release him,” Sepp instructed the guards. “Otherwise, you’ll be frozen, too.”

And then the best sound in the world cut through the tension. Ripping fabric followed by widening gaps of moonlight. The tent filled with people and a flurry of action.

Familiar voices shouted and barked orders.

Quain, “Don’t let the bastard touch you.”

Kerrick, “Use the net!”

Loren, “I’ll take the two on the left.”

Flea, “Hold him still.”

Quain, “Finish this. Reinforcements are coming.”

And the most wonderful voice of all, Belen, “He’s mine. You take care of the short guy.”

Loren, “Watch out!”

Kerrick, “Flea, don’t—”

Wynn, “That’s quite enough.”

Everyone stopped and turned. Wynn held Flea in front of her like a shield. She held the dart filled with Death Lily toxin close to his neck. “No one moves or I’ll kill him,” Wynn said.

Did Kerrick remember the toxin couldn’t hurt Flea?

Kerrick said. “Go ahead.”

Yes! But everyone else yelled, “No!”

Kerrick recovered his weapon and tightened his grip on the hilt. Flea put his hand on Wynn’s arm.

Wynn’s brow creased. “You’re willing to sacrifice this boy?”

“I’m not a boy,” Flea said. “I’m a death magician who is about to neutralize you.” He froze her in a magical stasis.

Flea had learned how to use his power. Yay Flea!

Sepp grabbed Loren, but before he could issue an ultimatum, Kerrick shouted, “Down.”

Loren sat, sliding right from Sepp’s grasp. Kerrick swung his sword and the sharp edge of the dadao sliced right through Sepp’s neck, decapitating him. Blood splashed and then pooled on the floor.

And finally, the Death Lily toxin wore off and I slammed back into my body. All the aches and pains in my limbs sprang to life. The skin around my wrists burned as the rope bit deeper. I groaned.

Belen rushed over and untied me. Then threw me over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Flea supported Kerrick and the monkeys held swords at the ready. The reason for the tension and their fighting stances stood beyond the shredded fabric of the tent. Hundreds of soldiers surrounded us.

“What’s the plan?” Quain asked.

“Attack the weakest section and create a gap,” Loren suggested.

“Surrender,” I said. “We’re outnumbered. Besides, Sepp and Wynn are gone. Wynn and Sepp’s troops won’t kill us until the Skeleton King arrives. We’ll have a couple days to escape.”

No response.

I tried again. “If we attack, we’ll be injured or killed. We’re all together and we’re all alive. Let’s stay that way for a while. Please?”

Belen chuckled. “No one is presumed dead.”

The others looked to Kerrick. He just about swayed on his feet. “She has a point. I doubt we’ll be allowed to stay together, so if you get a chance to escape, take it and find Ryne. Don’t try to free the rest of us. Otherwise, sit tight.”

Of course, no one would leave anyone behind. And their expressions said as much.

Belen lowered me to the ground. I hugged him close. “It’s so good to see you. I missed you so much!”

He squeezed me back. “Let’s hope we survive this so we can catch up.”

I laughed at his comment—let’s live so we can chat.

“Put your weapons down and come out of the tent with your hands on your head,” a male voice ordered.

“And so it begins,” Quain said, laying his sword on the ground.

I slid my shoulder under Kerrick’s arm, helping Flea.

Kerrick kissed me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Who, me?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

He ignored me. “No giving your word to help them if they let us go. Or anything similar to that. Promise?”

Drat. He knew me so well. I didn’t answer.

“Promise or I go out there swinging my sword,” he threatened.

I huffed. “Oh, all right.”

* * *

After we were frisked for weapons and our hands manacled—mine in front, thank the Flea—the soldiers escorted us to separate tents as Kerrick had predicted. Two armed guards remained inside with me, blocking the exit. Exhausted and famished, I sprawled on the floor until a young soldier brought me a bowl of food with a spoon.

“Sorry,” he said, dipping his head. “Major Wynn wouldn’t let us feed you before.”

“That’s okay, you’re feeding me now.” I held my hands out.

He hesitated, staring at my fingers. “Uh...”

I dropped my arms. “Just put it on the ground.”

A quick smile. The soldier placed it by his feet, then shuffled back near the guards. I pounced on the bowl, shoveling the warm gritty mash into my mouth even though the short chain hampered my range of motion. The mash tasted horrible, but my stomach didn’t care.