He waited while I ate. When I slowed, I asked him about my friends.

“Oh, they’re all...cooperating.” He sounded surprised. “We fed them, too, but the one guy passed out soon after you all were captured and hasn’t woken since. Did he sustain a head injury?”

Sustain? Perhaps there was more to this kid than I’d assumed. “Well, there was that big rescue attempt.” And Kerrick had been at the very end of his strength. But I didn’t want to let him know about Kerrick’s magic.

“Rescue attempt? Are you sure you don’t mean assassination plot?”

I studied him, seeking signs of hostility or duplicity. “Sepp’s death was pure serendipity, a bright spot in an otherwise failed rescue.”

“Oh.”

“Who’s in charge now?”

“Of the battalion?”

“Yes.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Horace.”

“Until the Skeleton King arrives?”

“Yes.”

Lovely. At least Sepp was gone. That was worth...well...pretty much everything as far as I was concerned.

“When will he be here?”

“That’s classified.”

“I should check on the unconscious man, just in case,” I said.

“That would be the LC’s decision.”

When I finished eating, I placed the bowl on the ground and scooted away. The young soldier gestured to the guards. “If you give them any trouble, they have orders to put gloves on you and secure your wrists behind your back.”

Good to know. “Will they read me a bedtime story?”

“No,” the guard on the left said.

The soldier scooped up my bowl and dashed off. Probably to report back to his commanding officer.

I didn’t get my bedtime story, but a woman delivered my bedroll and blanket. Other than that, not much happened. The next day on a trip to the privies, I noticed a fair amount of activity and soldiers buzzing about the camp.

Despite searching, I didn’t spot my friends or Kerrick. I considered tricking my guards and zapping them, Instead, I decided to make my escape in the middle of the night.

Of course, I imagined Kerrick and the others had already escaped with ease. They were probably all standing around the horses wondering what was taking me so long.

Early that afternoon, four female soldiers arrived to escort me to the bathing area. I had a meeting with, I guessed, the lieutenant colonel. They provided me with a clean uniform, but made me promise not to attack them if they unlocked the cuffs so I could wash myself.

For a bath, I’d have promised almost anything. Kerrick would understand. And this wasn’t a perfect opportunity for me to bolt, so I wasn’t breaking my promise to him. After washing in a nearby stream—the cold air and water ensured I didn’t linger—and changing, my skin tingled and I reveled in being clean.

With the manacles on, my wrists hadn’t healed all the way and the still raw flesh stung from the soap.

Unfortunately, the ladies recuffed my wrists.

“Orders,” one woman said when I grunted in pain.

They led me to a big, olive-colored tent near the southern edge of the camp. Guards ringed the outside of the structure. It appeared Horace was worried about an assassin cutting through the fabric. Smart. The two soldiers on either side of the entrance pulled the flaps back as we approached.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior. A thick center post held up the roof. Cots lined up along the left side and a table and chairs occupied the right. A handful of men and women sat around the table with a few standing behind them.

One of my ladies pushed me farther inside.

The man at the head of the table rose and I stopped. He wore armor crafted from bones. A crown of rib bones adorned his head.

The Skeleton King.

KERRICK

The soldiers had been quick to cuff Kerrick’s wrists behind his back. They’d done the same to Flea, the monkeys, and Belen. Poppa Bear met Kerrick’s gaze, giving him a silent signal with his bushy eyebrows before being escorted away. Kerrick passed the information on to the others before they were all separated.

Belen’s eyebrows had warned them he planned to cause trouble tomorrow night. Kerrick hoped a day’s worth of rest would give him the energy to take advantage of the ruckus.

As his guards led him to a small tent, Kerrick focused on the effort needed to walk. Everything ached and fatigue dragged at his body as if he wore a blanket of chain mail around his shoulders. When they swept aside the flaps, Kerrick merely ducked inside and collapsed on the ground, not caring the men had taken positions blocking the entrance. He’d deal with them when the time came.

He slept all afternoon, rousing only for a meal, but even then he had to force the food down, hoping it would provide a bit of energy. It didn’t.

The living green called to him.

Time for quiet.

Time for rest.

Time to sleep.

Time to wait.

Kerrick fought the summons. He would not go...dormant. Gathering the remaining bits of his magic, he pushed against the living green’s command. And to think he’d complained about not being able to leave the forest. Compared to this, he’d gladly go back to those early fall days.

Memories of lying in the colorful leaves with Avry swirled. He concentrated on her. She needed him. Sepp and Wynn had been neutralized, but Tohon, Cellina, and the Skeleton King had to be stopped.

He doubled his efforts to wake up. Opening his eyes, Kerrick scanned the tent. Nothing had changed, except he’d depleted all his magic.