“Danilo, I’m disappointed.”
Jacob sat up, not sure how to read Keitus’s emotions. He had multiple colors swirling around him, blending into each other.
“What—what do you mean?”
“You aren’t being honest. You haven’t tried hard enough. I need to remind you what will happen if you don’t find that key.”
Jacob’s mouth popped open. “But . . . but I have tried! It’s almost killed me—I fall unconscious all the time and my heart is going to pop with everything I’m putting it through. And I’ve been working hard! I can see all the way back to where the hooded man leaves the castle. Just give me more time. I’ll be able to follow him, I promise!” Most of what he said was true—he really did worry that his body was going to break down. And he really did think he’d be able to follow the man if he tried again.
Keitus looked Jacob in the eye. “Boy, you are a terrible liar. The hooded man used the key to go somewhere. Why would he just walk out of the castle when he’s got a powerful instrument in his hands?”
Jacob stared at his hands, annoyed with himself and the fact that he hadn’t thought of that.
“And it doesn’t matter anyway.”
Jacob looked up. “It doesn’t? Why?”
Keitus strode across the room and looked out the window. Jacob held his breath, praying with every ounce of his body that the Lorkon wouldn’t notice what he’d been doing.
“We’ve decided to kill you.”
“What? No!” That wasn’t possible. Not after everything Keitus had said!
Keitus turned to face Jacob. “The other Lorkon presented me with a very good argument. They seem to think you’ll never join or help me, and if that’s the case, I can’t have you somehow escaping and making it back to your family.
“I spent years setting things up so you’d be born. You are, shall I say, my pet project. To see you dead would bring me much disappointment.” He glared at Jacob. “But if you helped my enemies, it could be my downfall. And I won’t allow that.”
He grabbed Jacob by the face, pulling him several feet up. Jacob’s eyes smarted from the pain in his jaw. “Your death will not be easy for you, nor fast. I will make you cry for mercy, but there will be none to give. And when I’m through with you, I’ll move to everyone you love, starting with your little sister.”
He dropped Jacob. “Unless, of course, you decide to bind yourself to me.” He turned away. “Remember this, boy. Remember it with every part of you. I created you. You belong to me. And if I can’t have your powers, no one can.”
Jacob remained where he’d fallen, motionless. He believed Keitus. The Lorkon really would kill him. And, after Jacob’s death, it would only be a matter of time before Keitus found a way to Mendon. A part of his heart shriveled when he thought of what would happen to his baby sister if Keitus ever made it that far. And to Matt. And his parents. And Aloren. Jacob couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t. He’d do anything . . . the thought that crossed his mind made him gasp in shock. Was he really considering accepting Keitus’s offer?
If it meant saving his family, maybe? Possibly?
He sat up, dropping his eyes to his hands. “I . . .” He hesitated, looking up at the Lorkon, creasing his forehead. “Keitus, I—”
Keitus’s cheeks lifted, showing his dirty teeth in what Jacob could only assume was a smile. He must’ve sensed Jacob’s indecision. “I’ll return in thirty minutes. Have your decision ready for me. If it’s yes, I have many things to teach you. If it’s no, you know what to expect.”
The door shut behind the Lorkon king, and Jacob slumped on the cot. What was he doing? Was he really considering this? Joining the person who’d made his life incredibly difficult and painful the past several months? How was it possible?
He shook his head. If he did join Keitus, he might actually have more power to help his family.
He got to his feet and paced, making a path in the slime. Was joining Keitus the right thing to do? He searched himself, trying to understand his feelings, and felt shock when he found an element of peace there. Was that because it was right? Was he “meant” to be with Keitus? Would things fall into place for him?
He sat on the cot again. He couldn’t think. Things kept slipping from his mental grasp. Okay, a more logical, straightforward reasoning was required. What were the pros and cons?
Pros—he wouldn’t die. And he might be able to prevent the deaths of those he loved. He shook his head. He wasn’t so naive as to believe Keitus would allow his enemies to live. But maybe, maybe he’d be able to convince Keitus to transport them somewhere far away—somewhere safe, where they’d have no control or influence. Would that be enough?
Other pros. He wracked his brain, concentrating. He could be a spy. He could feed the good guys information. Act as a double agent.
And the cons?
He’d be selling his soul, basically. And he felt strongly that was true. But if it saved the lives of his loved ones, would it be worth it?
Also, he hated the Lorkon. He felt dirty and gross around them. He doubted that would ever go away. He naturally shied away from bad things. Always had. Plus, he knew the Lorkon would probably treat him very poorly. They’d abuse him mentally, emotionally, physically.
Jacob got up to pace again. What could he do? Join the Lorkon, save his loved ones, and lose himself. Or deny Keitus and be killed, knowing his loved ones would follow.
There was one more con to joining Keitus.
If he sided with the Lorkon, it would destroy his mother. And he couldn’t live with that. He couldn’t.
Jacob felt peace then—true peace—and he held on to it as hard as he could. He closed his eyes, picturing his mother’s face. He pictured Amberly’s sweet smile and Aloren’s beautiful eyes. Then he jumped to his feet. He’d wasted five minutes with his moment of weakness. That left him with only twenty-five to escape.
Concentrating, he Time-Saw the fortress, wanting to know where everyone was before he did anything. The Molgs stood guard outside his door still, looking bored. Keitus paced in the throne room. The three Lorkon were at the table there, playing some sort of game with rocks.
Then he looked outside. Molgs were stationed randomly around the fortress, some pacing, others staring into the forest.
There was the makeshift door where it had been before. Jacob “looked” behind it, making sure no Molgs were there, and then his eyes caught a gleam in the trees behind the door.
The key! The Lorkon hadn’t found it! But how did it get way over there? He wondered if Early had moved it. Wasn’t it too heavy for her? He zoomed in closer, wanting to be sure that’s what it was. It was barely visible—only a sparkle of one of the diamonds and a little metal catching the sunlight—but definitely the key. Relief flooded through him.
He pulled back, seeing the fortress from farther away, counting how many Molgs were outside. Ten, one of which was near the makeshift door, but the rest were placed across the grounds.
He could do this!
Jacob jerked to his cell, making sure he was still alone, then quickly knelt on the cot and resumed warming the caulking. Hurry! Faster! Faster! Early was on the other side, cheering him on. He could see her excitement—it flowed in the air around her.
When he was down to the last bit, he put his hand on the window to steady it, hoping that by yanking hard enough on the caulking, the glass would fall inward, rather than outward.
He tugged on the stuff. The window creaked. He tugged harder, and it shifted visibly. Then he pulled with all his might and the window flipped out of the seal, landing on him. He got knocked to the floor with a thud, and the sheet of glass slid with him. Ouch.
But it didn’t break.
He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned the glass up against the wall. The floor was too slippery, though, and the pane started sliding. He jumped forward, caught it just in time, and froze, waiting to see if the Molgs outside his door had heard it scraping.
Early flitted to his side, doing somersaults in the air, but Jacob waited.
When nothing happened, he lowered the glass to the floor, where it wouldn’t break unless someone stepped on it.
Jacob jumped back up on the cot and looked out the hole he’d just created. His eyes blurred and he pulled himself back in quickly, clutching his chest. The ground was so far below! His head spun and he began hyperventilating. How was he going to do this? He’d always been afraid of heights, and when they were this bad, he had no hope.
“Jacob!” Early said. “You must come now! You’ve got a way out of the fortress!”
He steadied himself against the wall. He sucked in one deep breath after another, trying to clear his mind. When he felt more ready, more determined, he pulled the last of the water from below his cot and washed his hands. He would save himself.
Realizing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate well enough to Time-See while he was escaping, he turned to Early. “Go find out where everyone is, then give me updates every couple of seconds. Make sure no one is coming.”
She nodded and zoomed back and forth quickly, giving him reports. The Molgs below hadn’t noticed anything, and she could see the Lorkon through a window—they were still in the throne room.
Jacob sat on the ledge, legs outside, careful not to look down. “Just like on the wall of the fortress,” he muttered. “Just like on the wall of the fortress.”
Holding on to the ledge, he turned around, lowering himself. His feet swung wildly in the air as he tried to find somewhere to put them. Nothing.
He paused, breathing deeply, calming his heart.
“Don’t look down,” Early whispered. “There’s a Molg directly below you.”
Great. Just great.
His breath came in quick bursts and he closed his eyes as tight as he could. The tower felt like it was falling—his senses were completely messed up.
Finally, when he was sure he could control his panic, he swung his left arm over the ledge, careful not to the touch the slimy interior of the cell, and used the crook of his elbow to hold on, freeing up his right hand.
Jacob heated a deep handhold into the stone, then another one next to it. He made sure there was plenty of stone to grip, fitting it perfectly to himself.
This was easy. He could do it. He pretended the ground was only a foot below. If he fell, it would be like stepping off a curb. Nothing more to it.