I will not allow the Tinman or the monkeys to see any emotion.
Except rage.
In the distance, a castle starts to take shape against the darkened sky, several pointed spires and a tall turret on each wing hinting at its vastness.
We slowly descend, the monkey’s talons digging into my flesh as he fights at a wind current.
There is a brief moment where I hope he’ll drop me, but that will serve no one, least of all me.
The castle looms larger and larger, and then we’re upon it and it’s so big, so fortified, that it doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real.
The monkeys fly over the stone wall and drop usunceremoniously in the courtyard, barely pausing to land before taking flight again and disappearing around the west turret.
I gape at the castle. We’re in front of a set of large double doors, the wood carved to look like the unfolded wings of a monkey. Iron fastenings and thick iron bolts hold the massive doors to the castle walls. On either side, lanterns hang from the stone facade, the light inside dancing like flames.
It’s beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.
A strong metal hand wraps around my arm, pulling me forward.
I wrench free of the Tinman’s grip. “Don’t touch me.”
“You think you’re in charge here?”
“You’re certainly not. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
A low rumble sounds in his throat. The axe is strapped to his back, his hands nowhere near it. But something tells me the Tinman needs only a second to have his beloved weapon in his grip.
I take a step back. He mirrors me like he’s prepared for me to bolt even though the iron gate remains closed and locked behind us.
“You’ll walk into that castle or you’ll be dragged into that castle. The choice is yours,” he says.
“What do you get out of this?”
“I’m counting to three.”
“What, am I a child?”
His nostrils flare. “One.”
“You’ve terrorized me and my friend. You had no right to kill him!”
“Two.”
“Did you evenknowhim? Have you no heart?”
“Three. No and no.”
His shoulder rams into my stomach, his arm curling around the backs of my thighs. Suddenly I’m off my feet, hauled over his shoulder.
“Hey!” I beat at his back, but it’s no use. He’s clearly corded in muscle, my slaps as annoying as a cattail. But at this vantage point, I can see the sheath of his axe and the leather strap snapped around its handle, holding it in place. I open the strap and wrench the axe out. The obscene weight of the weapon catches me off guard and the axe slips from my grip, ringing out as it hits the stone.
The Tinman pitches me forward. My feet hit the ground, but the force takes me by surprise and I stumble back onto my butt.
“How did you do that?”
“What?” I scramble up.
“How did you take the axe?”
