Chapter 8

“You’re in my home.”

“Where is that?”

Seven wasn’t sure how to answer that one. There was no such thing as “where” inside someone’s domain, and he didn’t know how to explain his ability to split his mind.

“Who are you?” the King asked. “Also, if you know who I am as well, that would be convenient.”

“I’m Seven.” There wasn’t much else to add.

“You don’t look seven,” the King answered, studying him. “I’d say about mid-twenties.”

Seven was again struck speechless, wondering if the King was being facetious. Was this some sort of tactic to avoid interrogation? Surely acting like a fool would not give the leader of such a successful group any satisfaction.

“I’m not sure you understand,” Seven said stiffly. “You are our prisoner.”

“This doesn’t look like a prison.”

“Try to get out then.”