As he swung, the word science stuck in his head. Why was that? Again Bach’uuk waved to him. His Ur friend’s wristband glinted in the firelight. Then Jake knew the answer.

Of course!

Bach’uuk hadn’t been urging him to swing. He had been offering a solution. If Jake hadn’t been hanging upside down with a fat slug still stuck on his face, he might have thought of it himself.

Jake began to swing more earnestly, cranking hard, ignoring his throbbing head and burning ankles. The key ring appeared ahead. He stretched again for it; but this time he used his other arm, the one with the wristband given to him by the Ur Elder, a band made of magnetite.

As he reached the maximum arc of his swing, he thrust out his arm and bent his wrist toward the ring, still out of reach, but only by inches. The magnetic property of the band shivered and drew a few keys toward him, including the long key he had touched earlier. Jake snapped his fingers down and caught the extended key.

He whistled his relief and clamped tightly—then gravity again reclaimed his body. As he swung back away, the key ring slipped free of the hooked nail and came with him.

A cheer rose from his friends.

With a bit of effort, Jake bent up and finally found the key to unlock his ankle cuffs. He fell to the floor, catching himself with one arm and rolling to the side. He sat for a moment and rubbed circulation back into his legs.

Marika screamed from the cell, “Jake! Behind you!”

He flung himself around as Dogo leaped at him, spitting blood from his split lip. The ogre’s bulk flattened Jake to the ground, pinning him on his back. A flash of silver reflected off the dagger as it stabbed toward his eye.

16

CLOAKS AND DAGGERS

Jake blocked the plunging dagger with his forearm, crossing wrists with Dogo. The tip of the blade hovered over his face and sank slowly toward his open eye. The man was too strong for Jake to hold him back. Matching gazes with the dungeon master, he read the glow of victory in the other’s eyes.

Staring up, Jake spoke the only words that could save him.

“I love broccoli.”

It was a lie. Jake hated broccoli with a passion.

The witch’s slug, still stuck on his cheek, ignited with acidic fire. Jake’s free hand ripped the beast off his skin, burning his fingertips, and flicked it up into Dogo’s open eye. The dungeon master howled as the flaming slug latched on to his eyeball and brow. He rolled away, digging at his face in agony.

Jake scrambled up, grabbed a wooden mallet from the tool table, and clocked Dogo hard on the side of his head. The man fell, going limp. This time he’d not be waking up anytime soon.

But Jake wasn’t taking any chances. He hurried to the cell door and freed his friends. They rushed out. Marika caught him in a fierce hug. Pindor pounded him on the back. Bach’uuk took some limestone scraped from the walls and made a paste for Jake’s inflamed cheek. It immediately took the sting from his burns.