“You’re welcome, dear. Oh, and one more thing. Help is coming.”
“Help?” I asked, but Ogress said nothing about who.
“You don’t have to fight alone.” She leaned to the side, revealing a hidden back door to the tent, and beckoned for me to exit in secret.
After I thanked her a second time, I slipped out of the back door, avoiding my guard, and made my way back to where I had last seen Velora. Sure enough, the tent was empty, and the guards stationed outside were surprised to find it so. I walked around to the back of the tent where I had seen Velora sleeping on the couch. There was a giant rip in the canvas, and two sets of footprints leading away into the woods.
I grabbed a downed evergreen branch and wiped away their trail, hiding the evidence of Velora’s escape. I tossed the branch into the woods before storming over to the smelting forge, only to find the forge still hot, but the dwarf long gone.
“Molneer,” I grumbled in frustration. I examined his workspace and found the smallest flecks of gold dribbles, the crucible he used to melt the gold, and the molds for the bracelets and a stone stamp press for coins. Next to the smelting furnace was a bag that stunk terribly like rotten eggs, and I wrinkled my nose as I could smell the waft from goblins.
They’d been supplying Molneer with gold stolen from the Stiltskin hoard, and he’d been making trinkets with coins and circulating them around the festival. And how long had he been reintroducing the cursed treasure into society? Forcing Grimkeep to constantly hunt it down, not knowing that he was being betrayed by his own cousin.
Why was I such a fool? He’d used the ward on his mantle to sense magic, and instead of sensing gold for him to hunt after that avalanche, it sensed me. I was too trusting and let him talk me into going right to the palace. He placed me under the king’s nose. Did that mean that Freya was involved too?
Anger rolled through me. I had never wanted to hit something as much as I did right then.
“Rhea.” Spencer raced up to me. “There you are. Come quick.”
“Not now,” I snapped bitterly, bypassing the smaller mallets and heading to the one used for hammering steel. I hefted the hammer and gave it a mighty swing, and it crashed into the table. It bounced off after cracking the wood. Again I continued to strike, destroying the crucible and all of his tools to make the cursed jewelry. “How long?” I growled.
Spencer watched as I released my anger out on the workspace. When I was done, I took the goblin sack and tossed it into the furnace, letting the flames cleanse the cloying odor that hung in the air.
When my angry tirade was over, Spencer came to my side. “The king knows Velora is gone. It’s not good. He is calling all the chosen to the stage.”
“She shouldn’t go.” Kash stepped out of the darkness, his chest heaving. “She should run.”
“And you know if she did, what will happen come morning?” Spencer snarled. “Whose conscious will it be on when eve comes, and we find her dead? Even worse, when we don’t remember which one of us killed her.”
Kash’s face was a stony mask. “I would never.”
“You may say that now,” Spencer put his hand on his rapier, his voice breaking with emotion, “but I know the odds are in favor of it being you or I to land the killing blow.”
Kash’s eyes met mine, and I knew what he was thinking. “Stop, there’s no use worrying over what has yet to come. I have a plan. Or I will if we can survive the night. Are you with me?” Kash’s voice lowered, and he stepped so close the toes of our boots were almost touching. “I’ll always be with you,” he whispered, “for as long as you let me.” His eyes glittered with emotion, reflecting the fire in the forge. They looked like molten gold, and I inhaled.
Kash heard it, and his lips pulled back into a mischievous smile. He opened his mouth to comment.
“Don’t even say it,” I warned.
“What, that I’m breathtaking?”
“Shut it.” Grabbing his sleeve, I dragged him after me as I followed Spencer to the main stage. As we passed the tents, I noticed that Ogress De La Cour’s tent was already gone, as were the wagons and the tents belonging to the magical menagerie. As fast as they had come, they had departed. I had to assume glamour and magic aided in their escape. They’d either sensed the king’s coming announcement, or Ogress had a premonition. Whatever it was, I knew they would be safe.
“Wait.” Spencer turned on his heels and reached into his cloak. He broke apart a piece of wax and began rubbing it into little balls.
“What are you doing?” I asked, as he pushed the hair away from my ears and pushed the wax balls into them.
“Protection.” He winked; his voice now muffled by the beeswax earplugs. “Just in case.”
“Is he using the silverstar flute again?” I asked fearfully.
He shrugged. “Never try to find a reason behind a mad king’s actions.”
As we approached the main stage, I saw King Goddrick in all his glory. They had brought out a golden throne whose backseat was at least seven feet tall, and he was now pacing in front of it. There was something off about his gate, and I feared he was unwell. Then I noticed what he was wearing. The king wore his golden crown, the filigree necklace at his throat, the ornate buckle, the chains on his cloak, even down to the buttons in his boots were all gold, and I knew without even stepping closer that Molneer had made them, and all of them were cursed.
“Where is she?” King Goddrick screamed into the night. “Where is the one with lavender hair? Why is she not coming when I summon?”
From the folds of his cloak, he pulled forth the silver whistle and blew hard.
I heard the cries and whimpers of Shannon, Annette, and the others as they reacted to the magic within the whistle. Annette clutched her ears; Shannon fell to her knees in the snow. Brenna collapsed into Benton’s arms. I only heard the slightest hum because of the wax in my ears, but I feigned a painful reaction, wobbling and holding my head with one hand. With the other, I reached out to Spencer’s hand and gave it the slightest squeeze of thanks, and he squeezed back reassuringly. His quick thinking saved me from blacking out.
“Why were my guards not with her?” The king turned and glared at the two men that had been standing outside Velora’s tent. “My blades will deal with you in the morning,” the king threatened, and the men slowly backed into the crowd. “Where’s the other one?” Goddrick yelled, his hand covering his eyes as he searched.
“I’m here, Your Majesty.” I stepped forward into the light so the king could see me.
He struggled to focus on me, his head swaying. His back and forth. “Yes, yes. You are still here, and my blade is still sharp, I see.”
Kash took a step closer to me, his hand slipping under my cloak, brushing my back while he pulled out his dagger and gently put it in front of me. It was aimed at my stomach, but his face was a stony mask of indifference.
“Don’t fear me,” he whispered between clenched teeth, his eyes never straying from the king.
“I don’t,” I said softly, focusing on playing my part . Kash ran his thumb in a circle along my spine, and I shivered at the intimate gesture. It was his way of trying to comfort me in a situation where he had to play the loyal assassin, but my flinch helped play into the drama, and the king’s smile grew.