Page 55 of My Queendom for a Horse

His perfect, appallingly beautiful brow furrows. “But they were going to kill your dad.” He points. “Remember?”

My dad’s slumped in the chair, entirely unconscious. One eye’s swollen to the size of an orange. The skin is a very dark brown, purple, and greenish orange. His lip’s swollen and still bleeding profusely from a gash near the bottom left. His arm looks broken. And he’s covered with bruises and cuts.

“They threatened you,” Aleks says.

“We aren’t like them,” I say.

He chuckles. “We should be worse, don’t you think? The only thing that scares roaches is a bigger threat. We have to be lions.”

“I’m not sure that’s right,” I say.

“Kris.” This time, it’s Aleks’ voice that’s trembling. “They were going to kill you. I can’t allow—”

I stand up, forcing every ounce of confidence I possess into my voice. “You have to bring them back up to the surface,” I say. “Before they’re dead.”

Aleks meets my gaze, searching my face for something. “You’re serious.”

“I am.” I nod. “Really, really serious.”

He huffs. “Fine.” He turns his hands, palms up.

Only, nothing happens.

“Why. . .” He swallows slowly and inhales, and then he crouches down low and presses his hands against the now very dirty, very broken up, floor. And still, nothing happens.

Aleks must have been listening every time I swore and saving all those new words for this. Latvian. English. Russian. It’s a really impressive mix.

If eight men weren’t currently suffocating underground, buried alive, I’d probably be impressed.

“Think back. How did you make it happen before?”

“I have no idea.” He shakes his head. “The same way I always do.”

“Did it feel like. . .like static electricity? Like a bubble popping?”

He turns toward me slowly, his eyes widening. “Yes. It did.” He blinks. “How do you know that?” He steps toward me, his eyes utterly intent.

“Well, I, I mean. I guess—”

Before I can sound any dumber, his hand finds my arm, his fingers curling around my wrist. “I think I need you in order to use my magic.”

As he says the words, I feel it again. The static buzz and then the popping sensation.

The ground erupts, belching the men outward, spewing them upward, and then leaving them sprawling and crawling across the floor. Most of them are heaving, retching, groaning, coughing, and cursing.

One of them is utterly motionless.

The big man he hit in the throat.

But we don’t have time to deal with that. Not now that they’re all back. I drag Aleks across toward where my dad’s still tied. “Can you get him free?”

Aleks flicks two fingers and the ropes fall off.

“Wait, how—”

“I can explain later,” he says. “For now, I think we should go.”

He’s right.

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