The sunlight burned Jacob’s eyes as he wriggled out the other side of the tunnel. He had to be careful that his sword didn’t get caught on the rock.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Gallus said. He reached to help Jacob down to the crate. Matt, Sweet Pea, and Aloren watched, worry written on their faces.
“Jacob, what on earth were you doing in there?” Matt asked. “We were freaking out—we couldn’t follow you into the hole, and then the Shiengols came out, but you still didn’t come, and they were seriously the biggest jerks I’ve ever met—wouldn’t let us go in after you—and . . . whoa. Who’s that?”
Azuriah had just climbed through the hole. “None of your business, human.”
Matt’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, uh . . . Okay.” He looked at Jacob, who shrugged.
Aloren gave Jacob a quick hug, then stepped back. “We were really worried about you. What took so long?”
Jacob wasn’t sure how to answer, and when Azuriah spoke, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“We were practicing. But now we must go to Taga Village to speak with the king and queen and the Makalos.” He turned to Aldo and shook his hand. “Thank you for sending Danilo.”
Aldo inclined his head slightly. “Don’t thank me—thank Arien. She was the most adamant about getting you out.”
Azuriah nodded, and his eyes sparkled. “Of course.” He turned to Jacob, his emotions changing to show intense excitement. “Take us to Taga.”
Jacob started, then fumbled in his pocket, grabbing the key. Everyone followed him to the door and he opened it to Kenji’s house, unsure if that was what Azuriah wanted. He pulled back, letting the others go ahead of him.
He heard Aloren say something about being really excited to see Kevin again. Jacob rolled his eyes. He hated to admit it, but that hurt. How many times did he need to save her life before she actually decided to like him?
Azuriah was last. As he reached the threshold, he turned to Jacob. “Don’t forget what you’ve learned and what we practiced.”
Jacob sighed in exasperation. “Okay, I won’t. Let’s go.”
Azuriah gave Jacob a nod, then turned and walked through the door. Jacob stepped to follow him, but an arm reached through a crevice between the frame and the supporting rock and grabbed him. He struggled to get out of the grip and through the door, but it slammed shut. In his scramble to get away, he dropped the key.
No!
He saw a shadow as someone came up behind him, and everything went black.
***
Jacob jerked to a sitting position, groaning when pain split across his skull. He rubbed his temples, trying to make the throbbing go away, then remembered what had happened. He’d been knocked out!
He looked around, automatically feeling for his sword, which wasn’t there. He was in a stone room with a window and door. Was he back in the fortress? He got off the cot, being careful not to make his headache worse by moving too fast, and tried to open the door. It was locked. He fished in his pants for the key, then, with a sinking feeling, remembered he’d dropped it.
“Let me out!” He pounded on the door.
Jacob pressed his ear up against the wood, listening for any sign of someone approaching. Nothing. He jumped on the cot and looked out the window. Relief rushed over him when he recognized the township below—he was still in the fortress—but he must’ve been put in the tallest tower. He was several stories above ground.
He had to get out. Obviously, it was the Lorkon who’d trapped him. Who else would?
Gratitude for his talents flooded over him. He could mold a hole in the wall, then sneak away.
He started by the door, but jerked away when he felt a slimy texture on the stone. Disgusting! A brownish-green film covered his skin. What was it? He shivered when possible answers flew through his mind, and wiped his hands off on his pants.
But then he set his mind to the task. He had to get out—he’d touched many disgusting things before, including the faces of dead people, and there wasn’t any way he’d allow himself to be trapped there.
Jacob took a deep breath, put his palms on the walls once more, and worked on finding warmth in the stone. His headache slowly left as he worked. Possible solutions to his entrapment crossed his mind, and he quickly realized that if he were to escape, it would all be up to him. His family wouldn’t be able to help without use of the key to get them. ‘Course, they could always ask the Fat Lady to come . . . but she lived several days’ travel away.
He’d finished checking all the walls except the one with the window in it when he heard tapping at the glass. Jacob jumped back onto the cot. “Early!”
She waved at him to open it, but he couldn’t find a lever anywhere. It wasn’t the opening kind, so he hit the frame and glass several times with his fists, but nothing budged.
“I can’t open it!” he mouthed to her, then motioned for her to come into the room through the door. She shook her head. Had she tried already? Was someone standing guard? That seemed likely.
Stepping off the cot, Jacob searched the room for something to break the window, but stopped when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He motioned frantically at Early to go away and lay on his cot, trying to look innocent.
Voices sounded outside the door, then it swung open, and Jacob sat up.
A Lorkon stepped through the door, but it wasn’t Keitus. Obviously, visiting a prisoner was below Keitus’s “station.”
“Come with me,” the Lorkon said, light purple-blue—the colors for boredom—floating in the air around him.
“Why?”
Bright red immediately replaced the more calm colors, and the Lorkon lurched toward Jacob, slapping him across the face. Jacob collapsed on the cot. He brought his hand to his cheek, gasping at the pain that pulsed through his head. His eyes smarted, and he glared at the Lorkon and the two Molgs behind him.
“Save your questions for Keitus,” the Lorkon said, growling. He grabbed Jacob’s arm and dragged him to his feet, pulling him through the door.
Jacob struggled to stand on his own, but the Lorkon continued to drag him. “Okay, it’s not like I’m going to run away. Let me walk.”
The Lorkon released his grip, allowing Jacob a second to get to his feet, then continued down the hall. The Molgs prodded Jacob from behind with something sharp and he yelped, jumping to follow the Lorkon.
The group walked through several rooms and corridors and down a few flights of stairs. Something about the place felt off—different. It took Jacob a moment to put his finger on what. There were no doors anywhere, which made sense. The Lorkon had removed them to prevent anyone from keying into the fortress.
They finally entered a large room. Jacob almost snickered when he saw the makeshift throne in the middle, along with thick curtains on the walls. What was Keitus’s deal? Was he seriously that ridiculous? Couldn’t feel like he was in charge without a stupid chair and some curtains?
Speaking of Keitus, he sat on the throne, watching Jacob. A flash of green—excitement—swirled in the air around him, but it was quickly replaced by a light pink. Keitus was cranky, albeit somewhat excited to see Jacob.
Jacob’s sword leaned against the throne, and his hands ached to hold its comforting weight. He wasn’t very good with it, but at least he’d feel less exposed.
The Lorkon shoved Jacob to the center of the room, near a table and chairs. Jacob straightened, ignoring the urge to sneer at Keitus.
Keitus said nothing, and Jacob waited. He wasn’t about to break the silence.
While waiting, he took the opportunity to glance around. Bright sunlight filtered through several windows, and Jacob wondered why Keitus hadn’t used the curtains to cover the glass. Didn’t he dislike the sun?
The Lorkon who’d brought him there joined the other two, standing in a line behind Keitus. Molgs guarded the corners and doorways, watching him with their large eyes. They looked like they were in pain—the colors definitely showed how irritated they were—and Jacob wondered if it was from the sun, since they usually lived in caves.
Keitus cleared his throat. “Danilo, is it?”
“I go by Jacob. You already know that.”
“Drop your insolent attitude, boy. I have no patience for stupidity.” Keitus glared, his face nearly completely masked in shadow.