Lucky - by Erin Latimer

Fire in the Kitchen

I darted out of the closet at the same time that the shorter boy, the one who had burned the mushrooms, glanced up. He spotted me and his mouth dropped open. I gave him a quick, savage grin and sped away down the hall, hearing him sputtering behind me, and the cook bellowing at him to keep up and hand him the bucket.

            Then I was around the corner, racing into the kitchen.

            It wasn’t surprising to find the guard still there, but my stomach still plummeted. He had abandoned his post by the door and was using the opportunity to steal a piece of cake off of a silver platter that sat on the far counter. I caught him mid-bite, and his expression of surprise was comical as he turned toward me.

            I snatched up the first weapon I could find, a heavy wooden rolling pin, and swung it at the guard’s head with all my might. He moved fast, dodging backwards so that it missed his head and clipped him on the shoulder instead. His arm came down in a blur of movement, chopping the edge of his hand into my forearm. The rolling pin clattered onto the floor as hot white pain shot up my arm.

            I lashed out with my bare feet, kicking him in the knee, and the guard stumbled back with a sharp cry of pain. We both lunged for the rolling pin at the same time, and I was quicker, fingers wrapping around the handle and snatching it up a second before his hand smacked the tiles where it had been.

            I lunged, swinging wildly and this time there was a sharp crack as the heavy rolling pin came down on the top of his head, and I felt the impact vibrate both my arms, shocking my nerves all the way up to the palms of my hands. The guard slumped sideways and hit the floor with a crash, and I dropped the rolling pin, shaking my hands out with a hiss of pain and irritation.

            I darted for the freezer door, my hand closed around the door handle… and intense, burning pain shot up my arm. I felt my knees turn to water, and I hit the floor on my hands and knees, gasping. The room was rotating in dizzy circles above me.

            Iron. The freezer door was made of iron.

            “No! NO!” I searched wildly for something I could cover my hand with. There was a grease covered clothe on the table beside me, and I wrapped it around the palm of my hand, reaching up for the handle of the door in front of me.

            The burning sensation was less this time, but every muscle in my body still went weak and useless as soon as I made contact with the door, and I sagged forward, head suddenly heavy, unable to move.

            I let my hand drop, moaning in pain and helpless anger. Kiran was right there, right behind the door. He might be lying there half dead and frozen and I couldn’t get to him.

            I snatched up the rolling pin and beat it on the surface of the door, screaming, voice scratchy and ragged with emotion. “Kiran! Can you hear me? Kiran? Say something, please!”

            There was faint moan from behind the door, and I sat up, blinking back tears. He was still alive. But he also couldn’t talk, or he was half unconscious. It wasn’t good.

            “Damn it!” I was half growling, half sobbing now. There had to be a way to get him out of there. Maybe I could bribe someone else to open the door, threaten to stab them if they didn’t. There was a slight scuffling noise, which I thought was one of the servants coming back, or maybe the guard waking up, and I sprung to my feet, legs wobbly.

            But it wasn’t the guard, or any of the servants. It was Rook.

            I wanted to get up, to throw myself at him and ring his neck for what he was doing to Kiran, but as he moved toward me I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I might as well try to fight a lion or a cheetah. There was no question that he was a deadly predator. I was way out of my league here.