TIGHTROPE | fitz vacker

Chapter 11.

"I'M UNARMED," KEEFE promised. "And I'm not here because of the Council. In fact, they banished me weeks ago."

   "Bring him to me," King Dimitar ordered. His guards dragged Keefe forward, the largest one pinning Keefe's hands behind his back with a single meaty fist.

   King Dimitar scraped at his pointed teeth as he asked, "Do you know what happens to those who trespass in my city?"

   Keefe bowed his head. "Most trespassers mean you harm. I'm just here for answers."

   "So you're not here for this?" King Dimitar scooted the locked chest forward with his clawed toes.

   "I don't know what's in there," Keefe said, "but it has nothing to do with me."

   King Dimitar nodded at his guard, who lifted Keefe by his neck. "If you'd like to continue breathing, you'll tell me how you succeeded in entering my city."

   "Kind of hard to talk when you're choking me," Keefe wheezed.

   "Let him breathe."

   The guard loosened his grip enough to let Keefe suck in a ragged breath. King Dimitar repeated his question.

   "Old gnomish or dwarven tunnel," Keefe rasped. "By the river. It collapsed as I crawled through."

   Azalea had known Keefe was a brilliant liar, but she'd never fully appreciated his talent. He'd blended just enough truth to sell his story, and misdirected the ogres far away from the real tunnel.

   "Put him down," King Dimitar said, and the guard dropped Keefe like trash.

   Keefe collapsed to his knees and hacked and wretched. Each anguished sound twisted Azalea's heart.

   "Elves are such weaklings," the King said, jumping down from his throne. "Your only asset is your mind—and I could crush your skull with my thumb."

   "Maybe," Keefe said, rising shakily to his feet. "But you don't want to do that."

   "Oh, I believe I do," King Dimitar said, wrapping a meaty hand around Keefe's head.

   Keefe didn't struggle. He even sounded calm as he said, "Then you'll never know what I came here to tell you."

   King Dimitar leaned closer, sniffing Keefe's neck. "I know you're not one of the rebels." His claws shredded Keefe's black cloak, leaving him in his green cape, brown vest, black shirt with...

   "Interesting," King Dimitar said, tracing a claw over the black Neverseen armband. "They claimed only their own knew this detail. And you do look familiar."

   "Must be the family resemblance," Keefe said.

   Azalea didn't know how her father would have anything to do with the Ogres. Or maybe, she had been away for so long, Snooty-pants started to like Ogres.

   "Which is also how I know about this." He pinched his Neverseen armband before covering it with his cape.

   Or maybe, Azalea's father wasn't involved with the Ogres, but the Neverseen. But then, why would Mr. Forkle send a note to Azalea from her father? And why would Mr. Forkle allow for her father to meet with her.

   "My mother is Lady Gisela."

   Now, that. That surprised her. Azalea stumbled back a little. Tam helped her get steady.

   "What's he talking about?" Azalea whisper-yelled.

   Sophie, Fitz, Biana, and Dex all refused to look at Azalea. They knew something about her mother and they aren't telling her.