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Kilenya Series Books 1, 2, and 3

Page 124

by Andrea Pearson


  Chapter 17. Only Opportunity

  “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 suddenly 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 happy 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 h
ad 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.

  He reached down as far as he could and molded another spot. Then taking a deep breath, he put his right hand in one of the upper holes, letting go of the sill with his elbow. For a moment, his body swung as he tried to put his left hand in the other hole. He nearly slipped.

  A warming sensation started on his rear end and he felt lighter, his mind clearing. He would have blushed, but instead felt intense gratitude. Early was helping him. He wondered how she was doing it without sending him shooting into the air.

  Finally, Jacob got his fingertips into the other hole. They inched in, and his grip there strengthened. Once he knew he wouldn’t slip out, he hung for a moment, letting himself relax as much as possible. He didn’t have a lot of experience with rock climbing, but at least basketball and learning sword play had strengthened his upper body considerably.

  “Early,” he whispered, “can you help me find places to put my feet?”

  With Early’s guidance, he warmed more holes in the stone and slowly lowered himself, making sure to go to the right from the window, just in case someone looked down. Which he was sure they would. Early gave him frequent updates on Molg and Lorkon activity so he’d know how much time he had.

  Several moments later, he neared a corner. After Early checked that no one was watching, he reached around and molded holes, then pulled himself past. He breathed a sigh of relief. He would no longer be visible from the window. So far, so good.

  Jacob continued like this—working through shaking muscles, warming up handholds, slowly lowering himself, avoiding windows, and having Early keep watch. It felt like hours had passed, though he knew it had only been maybe ten or fifteen minutes. How much more time did he have? Five minutes? Would Keitus actually wait a full half hour? Jacob doubted it.

  He rested for a moment, taking stock of how far he’d gone and how much farther he had left. He was relieved to see that the ground was much closer now. He’d made progress! But the wall ended a couple of feet below. The drop to the next roof was at least ten feet down. That would be difficult to manage.

  He made two handholds just above the edge where the wall ended, then lowered himself, closing the distance to the roof below. He shook his head, wondering at the Shiengols’ thought process when they’d built this place. Random walls and roofs and ledges everywhere.

  With Early encouraging him, he released his grip, landing with a clatter.

  Jacob scrambled to find something to hold on to, but couldn’t. He started sliding down, gaining speed. Just in time, he caught himself. His legs slid off the edge of the roof, but he held on tight, hanging over the side.

  He nearly cried in relief. He’d made it!

  Early hovered next to him. “You can’t go down this way!” she said. “Too many windows!”

  Jacob pulled himself up, got to his hands and feet, and scurried across the large roof, trying to remain out of sight of the Molgs on the ground.

  It took him a moment, but he found a side of the fortress where there weren’t many windows. Luckily, it wasn’t very far from the makeshift door and the Key. But how was he going to get down this time? The roof had a ledge that took him too far from the wall. He wouldn’t be able to get close enough to mold any holes.

  Deciding it was time to figure out where everyone was, he Time-Saw the surrounding area. Molgs were still pacing—none of them had seen him. How was that possible? He Saw the throne room and panicked when he found it empty. He pulled back, searching for Keitus. The Lorkon was just entering the cell.

  The anger on Keitus’s face was evident, yes, but Jacob could hear the Lorkon’s scream, even while Time-Seeing. He jerked back to his surroundings. The Molgs below went berserk, rushing to see what was going on, and Jacob sprawled to his stomach, barely lifting his head a fraction—enough to see that the Molgs were all staring up in the direction of Jacob’s former cell.

  “Find him!” Keitus bellowed. “Find him! He’s out there somewhere!”

  The Molgs reacted instantly, unsheathing swords and maces. They split up, some going to the right and away from the window, some going into the forest in front of it, and others rushing to the left, closing the distance between themselves and Jacob.

  Jacob lowered his head. “What do I do?” he whispered frantically to Early. “How do I get down?”

  She shrugged, shaking her head, and wrung her hands frantically.

  Then her face lit up. “I’ll help you! You drop from here to the ground. I’ll be careful—reduce your weight again. It won’t hurt as badly if you’re lighter.”

  Jacob nodded, breathing rapidly. The risk of having her shoot him off in some random direction was huge. But this was his only choice. “We’ll need to wait for the right moment—there’s no way I’m going to make it to the door now without someone seeing me.”

  Early nodded. “And you can go into the forest and sneak around to the door that way!”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a good idea, actually. Thanks, Early!” And if they did see him? Without his sword, he had no way to defend himself.

  Remembering his sword made him groan. His dad had given it to him. He’d killed a dinosaur with it—he couldn’t leave it behind. He didn’t care how stupid others would think that was—if at all possible, he wanted to get it.

  An idea popped into his mind, and he Time-Saw to see if he could do it. Keitus was pacing in Jacob’s cell, his color red so bright it was nearly impossible to see his actual facial expression.

  The other Lorkon were searching the halls and rooms nearby.

&nbs
p; “He’s outside!” Keitus yelled at them. “Go out there and find him!”

  The three Lorkon disappeared down some stairs. Jacob quickly Time-Saw to the throne room. Relief hit him. Oh, good. His sword was still there.

  The idea continued to formulate, and he quickly figured out how far away the room was from his current position. After a moment of searching, he scanned around and found a stairway leading up near the throne room. He pulled himself back. Now would be his only chance.

  “Change of plans,” he said. “I’m going after my sword.”

  “No, Jacob!” Early said. “Bad idea!”

  Jacob shook his head. “They think I’m outside. If I go in, I’ll avoid them longer, and will be able to get my sword. I’m not leaving without it.”

  “It’s just a sword!”

  The room was on the other side of the roof. If he hurried, he might be able to mold his way through the roof and to the staircase while Keitus was still in the cell.

  “Keep a lookout—let me know if anyone’s coming.”

  Jacob scurried across the roof, being as careful as he could not to be seen or make a lot of noise.

  He was lucky—the Molgs were plenty noisy down on the ground, yelling at each other in their language.

  It didn’t take long for Jacob to feel his way to a weak spot above the staircase. He Time-Saw one last time—Keitus was just leaving his cell—and molded as quickly as he could. A moment later, he had a hole large enough. Early slowed his decent and he softly fell to the top landing of the steps, then crouched in the shadows of the stairwell. It must have been for servants—it was small and scuffed up, not glamorous like the other staircases he’d seen.

  After making sure no one was there, he zipped around a corner and peeked into the throne room. Empty still.

  “Keitus is coming!”

  Jacob hesitated for a moment, growled, and dashed inside the room anyway, racing for the throne. He fell to the ground, sliding the last couple of feet, and whipped behind the back of the large chair, grabbing his sword and pulling it close to him. Then he tucked his legs in and prayed the back of the chair was big enough to keep him hidden. He heard approaching footsteps.

  Keitus entered the room, swearing to himself. Jacob held his breath.

  Afraid to close his eyes, he stared at the curtain-covered wall in front of him. The throne shifted when Keitus sat in it, and Jacob was bumped away from the chair a fraction of an inch. He scrambled backward and shut his eyes when he heard the grunting sounds of a Molg echo in the room. Keitus and the creature started a heated discussion.

  Jacob saw Early up in the corner of the room and motioned for her to come closer. She did—moving so quickly the other two hopefully wouldn’t see her. “Go to the forest on the other side of the fortress from the makeshift door,” he whispered to her, trusting Keitus’s argument would cover his breathy words. “Do something, anything to make the Molgs think I’m there. Hurry!”

  She disappeared and Jacob was alone with Keitus and the Molg. How would he get out? Early had told him that Keitus had only arranged for one exit—the main entrance of the fortress. A lot of attention would be focused there. He bit his lip, concentrating. Would he be able to sneak out that way?

  Then he remembered something else—he’d molded a hole in the wall where the Sheingols had been staying. Was it still there? It seemed unlikely—Keitus would have had it filled up as soon as possible.

  Could Jacob take the chance? Run that way and see if it still existed? Then he shook his head at himself. He could Time-See. He focused at the wall across from him and held on to the legs of the chair, hoping he wouldn’t be gone long enough for his body to convulse or anything.

  It didn’t take long to find the room, since he started outside. The crates had been moved. Dang it! The hole was covered up. But he zoomed in closer anyway. What he saw made him nearly laugh with happiness. It had been covered with a type of cardboard—enough to make it look like the hole had been patched up, but easy enough for Jacob to get through. He Time-Saw to the other side of the hole. The same thing there. Just so long as the tunnel hadn’t been filled with anything, this plan would work.

  He returned to his present location and nearly jumped when Keitus screamed.

  “He is not in the fortress!” Keitus shrieked. “Search the entire forest and the town!”

  Footsteps retreating—the Molg left. It was silent for several moments. Was Keitus still there?

  Jacob was about to peek around the corner of the throne when he felt it shift as Keitus changed positions.

  The Lorkon muttered something Jacob couldn’t understand—maybe he was speaking in a different language—but he stopped when a loud clamor sounded from outside. “What now?” Keitus said.

  A Molg’s guttural response came from across the room, and Jacob felt the throne move. Footsteps clapped quickly across the floor. Jacob chanced a look beyond the chair and saw Keitus’s robes disappearing through the doorway.

  Not wanting to lose this chance, Jacob jumped to his feet and dashed across the floor, trying to be quiet. This would be his only opportunity.

  He reached the doorway in time to see Keitus stride around a corner at the end of the hall. Unfortunately, that was the only way to get to the room with the hole in the wall. He tiptoed as quickly as he could, following the Lorkon.

  Keitus stopped near the entrance to the Shiengols’ room to talk to another Lorkon, and Jacob hid behind a corner from them, pressing himself against the wall. He watched the shadows the Lorkon made on the floor.

  “Lord, he’s in the forest with the volcanic rock. We can’t reach—”

  “You’re sure it’s him?”

  The shadows moved, indicating the Lorkon were walking toward the front entrance of the fortress.

  “Yes—he’s . . .”

  The voices became a murmur, then died out, and Jacob peeked past the corner. The Lorkon were gone.

  Jacob dashed down the hall and through the doorway, gripping his sword tight.

  And ran smack into a Molg.

  It was the smallest Molg he’d ever seen, but it still freaked Jacob out. And if he hadn’t been so afraid, he would have laughed at the expression of shock that crossed the Molg’s face.

  Instinctively, he swung his sword. The blade connected with the Molg’s right arm, cutting it, and surprising the creature even more.

  Not waiting to see what the Molg would do, Jacob raced around it into the darkened interior of the Shiengols’ room. He sprinted across the floor to the hole, dodging a couple of tables and chairs along the way.

  He fell to his knees, skidding the last few feet, then ripped at the cardboard with one hand, holding his sword tightly in the other. He was sure he’d need it.

  The Molg roared behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. It had pulled out its short sword and was charging.

  He wouldn’t make it through the tunnel in time.

  Jacob jumped to his feet, whirled, and barely blocked the Molg’s attack. The blow vibrated through Jacob’s sword to his arms, and he nearly dropped it, grimacing at the sudden pain in his hands.

  The Molg glared and attacked again. Jacob defended himself, but not before the Molg’s sword caught his left sleeve, slicing his arm. Jacob barely felt the pain, but was sure it would register later. He stabbed at the Molg, but the beast easily stepped to the side, avoiding Jacob’s blade.

  The two continued to fight—Jacob attacking in anger and frustration, and the Molg easily getting out of the way.

  After only a few parries, Jacob recognized that the beast was enjoying itself. It was toying with him, which meant it knew Jacob wouldn’t win—the creature had probably been using a sword its entire life.

  What could he do? He needed to get through that hole, and fast. No telling how long the Lorkon would take.

  Making a quick decision, Jacob backed away, then ran to the right, skirting the perimeter of the room. He glanced over his shoulder. The Molg glared at him, the colors for
annoyance swirling in his air, then raced after Jacob. Good.

  They zigzagged between pillars, Jacob every now and then turning to throw in a quick jab. He led the Molg away from the hole to the other side of the darkened room.

  Jacob ducked under a table and turned to attack when the creature tried to do the same. He got in another blow, injuring the Molg again, and its colors flashed bright red.

  Early returned just then, excitedly babbling about the Lorkon searching the forest for Jacob and how she’d dropped heavy branches.

  “Kinda busy right now,” Jacob said.

  “Oh! Can I help?”

  “I need more time before the Lorkon come.”

  With a flash, Early disappeared, and Jacob, figuring she’d left to make more distractions, ran to a huge table in the center of the room. Why did the Shiengols need a table that big? It was as high as Jacob’s shoulders. Sure, the Shiengols were tall, but not that tall.

  Jacob swung on top of it, then whirled, attacking the Molg’s hands when it grabbed the table to hoist itself up. After a couple of seconds, Jacob’s hands trembled with relief when he found it was easy to maintain his position there. He gripped his sword tighter.

  Jacob wracked his brain, trying to come up with a plan. The Molg looked like it had figured out it wouldn’t be able to get on top too. It stepped back, surveying the room with its big, intelligent eyes. Suddenly, it dashed under the table.

  Jacob gasped in shock when the table shifted under his feet. He crouched, steadying himself. The Molg attempted to tip the table over, but Jacob counterbalanced from on top, barely staying upright.

  Then an idea popped into his brain. It would work—it had to! He only needed Early’s help to get things going.

  He nearly fell off when the Molg pitched the table hard to his right, but he was able to jump to the left, pushing the surface back down.

  Early returned just then, and Jacob told her what to do. She nodded in agreement.

  Jacob was finally distracted enough for the Molg to knock the table over, and he spilled to the ground. He jumped to his feet and ran toward the hole, stopping several yards away, then turned in time to block an attack.

  The Molg raised its sword again, but Early blasted the creature and it banged off the wall opposite Jacob, landing roughly. Jacob dropped his sword, falling to his knees.

  He searched the floor for warmth as quickly as he could. The Molg returned, and Early zapped it again. Jacob continued searching.

  Finally, he found a spot where the stone emitted warmth.

  Early pushed the Molg away a third time, and Jacob warmed the floor. Rather than pulling the stone up, however, he worked as deeply as he could, creating a section that was at least two feet square. He smoothed the top over, grabbed his sword, and jumped to his feet right as the Molg neared.

  Jacob carefully parried with the creature, leading it toward the warmed section.

  Right as the stone started to harden, the Molg stepped into it. Jacob distracted the creature by swinging his sword a few times, pretending to be attacking. He backed up. The Molg tried to follow, but couldn’t. Its foot stayed in place!

  “Early! It worked!”

  Early giggled, then disappeared with a flash, reappearing seconds later. “It’s clear outside! Go!”

  Jacob re-sheathed his sword and wormed his way through the hole. He fell to the ground outside with a thump, his breath getting knocked out of him. Early poked and prodded, trying to get him up, but it wasn’t until he dragged in a huge breath that he was able to stand again.

  He spotted the makeshift door and ran. He’d nearly reached it when a Molg stepped out from behind. No! He should’ve checked to make sure no one was there!

  The Molg grabbed him around the neck, throwing him to the ground, pinning him. Lights danced across his eyes.

  “Fjd arwes aried!” the Molg yelled.

  Jacob brought his leg up, kneeing the creature between the legs. Nothing happened. The Molg maintained his grip, preventing Jacob from drawing another breath.

  Early flitted through the air nearby, panicked and screaming at the Molg. Jacob wanted to tell her to blast the creature away, but couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t hear anything but the pounding in his ears. Everything went bright white as he struggled for air.

  Remembering his sword, he stopped trying to push the Molg away, instead focusing on getting the sword out. But then he forgot what he was doing. Blackness caved in on him.

  Suddenly the Molg released him, and Jacob sucked in air, coughing. His throat seared with pain. He sat up, gasping, clutching his neck.

  The Molg had fallen to the ground near him. Early rose, an expression of intensity on her face that Jacob had never seen before.

  The Molg stirred right as four more Molgs came running around the corner only a hundred yards away.

  “You shall not touch my Jacob!” Early screamed at the Molg. She zapped it again, and the creature flew through the air.

  Jacob jumped for the ground behind the door, searching in the grass. Where was it? Where was it? “Early! Help me find the Key!”

  She zipped past him and pointed. “Over there! I dragged it there—I hid it!”

  The Key! He saw the glint in the trampled grass and loosened it, pulling it out. Jacob closed it in his fist right as the Molg returned and kicked him, knocking him to the ground. The beast jumped for him, but this time, Jacob rolled away, to the front of the door, before he got pinned down. He pulled out his sword and swung wildly at the beast, lessons forgot, the need for survival the only thing on his mind.

  Early blasted the Molg away again, but it didn’t go as far as before. She looked exhausted, and the other Molgs were coming closer.

  Jacob didn’t waste time. He shoved the Key into the lock and yelled, “Kenji’s house!”

  Right as he turned the knob, the door flung open and Azuriah dashed through, a spear in one hand, a sword in the other, robes flashing in the sunlight. Jacob got knocked to the side.

  Azuriah screamed something in the Shiengols’ language. Jacob’s mouth popped open. The Molg—at least a foot taller than Azuriah—parried the blow with his crudely fashioned sword. The other Molgs arrived.

  Then came the most extreme, awesome sword fight Jacob had ever seen. Azuriah twirled around the Molgs, advancing, attacking. The beasts were very fast, keeping up. They blocked almost all of Azuriah’s attacks, but some of them got through.

  One by one, the creatures fell to the ground. The Lorkon came around the corner, saw Jacob and Azuriah, and hurtled themselves across the distance. They were incredibly fast.

  Azuriah threw his sword and spear into Kenji’s house—someone jumped out of the way just in time—and then he did something with his fingers. Suddenly, a whoosh sounded through the air, like incredibly low bass, rattling Jacob’s ribs. A wave rippled through the grass away from Azuriah, and the Molgs and Lorkon were smashed back. They fell to the ground, dazed.

  Gallus grabbed Jacob’s arm, yanking him through the door.

  The last thing Jacob saw of the Lorkon was bright red—their favorite emotion—before Azuriah jumped through, slamming the door behind him.

 

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