The Missing Prophecy (pjo/kotlc) book 3

Chapter Nineteen

"You promised!" Sophie shouted as Romhilda screamed, "WE HAD A DEAL!"

"I know." Keefe shuffled his feet, tapping his toe against the floor as the dwarves who'd dragged him there disappeared into the sand. "I'm sorry."

"That's it?" Sophie asked, glancing at Romhilda. Ana wondered which one was going to launch a dagger at Keefe first.

"That's all you have to say?" Romhilda added.

And Lady Gisela must've seen the murder in their eyes because she clapped her hands and called out, "All right, everyone-take a deep breath! Let's not forget there are hostages to consider! So keep those weapons tucked away. And I don't like the way that some of you are trying to move right now either-especially you three." She pointed to the councillors, who'd been silently skirting the perimeter of the Grand Hall, moving toward the door. "Wishing you could go back to cowering in your crystal castles?"

"As opposed to cowering behind a forcefield?" Councillor Noland shouted back.

"Wait-what hostages?" Keefe asked.

And then his eyes seemed to notice, for the first time, the daggers being held at Flori's and King Enki's throats-and he stumbled back, shaking his head. "You're holding the DWARVEN KING hostage?" he shouted at his mother. "In the middle of HIS CITY? Right by HIS THRONE?"

Lady Gisela shrugged. "It'll be fine, so as long as you cooperate."

Keefe whistled. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You're in a way bigger mess than we are."

"Oh, stop with the wide-eyed-glancing-over-your-shoulders-with-panic thing," Lady Gisela said to Sophie as her newest batch of anxiety bubbled to the surface. "You look as pathetic as your little friends cowering behind your goblin-who's supposed to be protecting you, isn't he?"

"Don't worry about me," Sophie told her, glancing over at Sandor, who'd positioned himself by Wylie and Maruca since the ogre was near Sophie. "You're the one who's going to be facing down an army of angry dwarves. Is all of this really worth it?" She waved her arms around. "Whatever crazy thing you're planning-"

"There's nothing crazy about this!" Lady Gisela corrected. "Though those who lead the charge are often seen as such. And I'll endure the scorn, and the risk, and the sacrifice, and the work, because I'm building something lasting. I'm building a-"

"If you say 'legacy' right now," Romhilda interrupted "I am seriously going to hurl- and it won't smell good, so others will follow, and it'll turn into a great big barf-fest. And usually I'm all for that! But... you've got a knife pressed to me sweet little gnome-y friend's neck, so I'd rather we all stay focused, okay? At least until the army of angry dwarves gets here."

"Shouldn't be too much longer," Keefe added.

Lady Gisela smiled. "Oh, but it will be-because that army is currently very, very, busy in the main marketplace, thanks to Vespera's intricate little plan. Her style's a bit much. Though she has a true flair for the dramatic-but you know that already, don't you, Sophie? I'll admit, I'm a little surprised that you haven't so much as asked about your other friends. You really should be much more worried."

"They can handle themselves," Sophie assured her.

Lady Gisela smirked. "You mean like your group? You lasted what? Thirty seconds? Long enough to form one very foolish force field and end things before they even began? Her smile widened when Maruca hung her head. "And now here we are, me in complete control and-"