Every step was a tangle. Every movement was a snag, a pull, a slip in an unexpected direction. Every reach was strained. The bushes were wrapped in vines. The branches were sharp and mostly leafless, some with thorns that were tearing through their coats. Scratches and scrapes became never ending. Mud caked to their boots. Leaves, rocks, and sticks clung to them, making their climbing pace that much heavier.

  The weight of the spears made their arms ache with each rising stab into the ground so they could use it to pull themselves up to the next foothold. The shields on their backs caught and wedged between strong thickets that were hidden in the tangles of brush. Their shoulders screamed with tension from the burdens of the weapons roped to their backs.

  So close to the cliff, the hill was becoming steeper, dropping off into foamy rapids. Hugo wedged his spear between two boulders and held onto it to lend a hand to Andre behind him.

  Andre grabbed him by the wrist and reached back for his brother, who struggled to catch it while kicking himself upward from a tree that bent over the cliff. Their trail had led them far closer to the cliff over the rushing river several meters below, flowing in rolling thrushes of foam around rocks that jutted like fangs at them, than Hugo had wanted.

  Once Andre got a grip on the boulder and began pulling himself up, Hugo pulled his spear out with a jerk that nearly sent him sprawling if not for the tree he sidestepped—really, stumbled—into, and he climbed another few paces to sink it into the earth again. This time, it was at the base of a tree.

  Down the line, a rock and chunk of dirt plunked into the rapids, swallowed away into the foam. Hugo sprinted from his spear to hug a tree that curved a little at the edge of the cliff to see.

  Damon was barely caught by Bruce, who was being held by Dalfur with an arm around his waist, his feet kicking at air over the hungry river so far below in hopes of finding the cliffside in front of him. He had lost his shield and spear. Bruce’s spear was nowhere to be seen, either. Hugo scratched his forehead against the tree bark with bittersweet gladness when he saw that they were able to pull him back onto the ledge.

  Dalfur gave Damon his spear with a nod and put a hand to the teen’s back to brace him as he reached for a grip to pull himself up the next step. Bruce, Dalfur, now empty handed, but without a sledgehammer on his back…or shield. Both had been left behind somewhere, lost most likely to be swallowed up by the river. Only the quiver and crossbow that shifted across his back, sword sheathed on his belt, remained as his blistered fingers clawed around a branch.

  Hugo’s hands were raw and blistered, just like the rest of them, and his grip on the spear’s textured handle had scraped him raw. He knew he was slipping even before Andre grabbed his outstretched hand. He hissed and cried out from the sudden scraping of skin on the spear handle. He swung Andre away from the cliff just in time for him to slam into a tree.

  “Hugo!” Andre jerked back, bracing with both legs and holding onto Hugo’s hand with both hands the moment his grip let loose from the spear.

  The jolt of his shoulder when Andre caught him, followed by the slam of his face and underarm into the tree, felt like he was torn in half. His shield fell like a flipping coin, end over end, bouncing down the slope between the dodging group, until it disappeared somewhere deep in the forest behind them. Chase and Samma climbed under his feet and pushed him upward while Andre pulled. His crossbow unbound itself from his shoulder when the knot of the rope rubbed against the tree and it, too, plummeted down the line. This time, Dalfur caught it with a reflexive snatch.

  “Thank you,” Hugo said once he and Andre were crowded together between the angled tree and the sloping, muddy hill. He hugged the tree with one arm.

  The arm Andre had caught him by was throbbing with an aching, twisting pain he had never felt before. He was grimacing against it, pressing his shoulder into the tree in the hopes of making the pain subside. It didn’t and his fingers on that hand were numb. He refused to look at it, but could feel that it wasn’t hanging from his shoulder the way it should be. It was…dangling.

  Andre leaned into the slope, catching his breath while resting the back of his head into a patch of weeds and moss growing from roots that jutted from the dirt behind him. “I hate you.”

  “You alright?” Samma called up to them from beside Chase, who was finding a foothold and grip to climb up to them.

  “I think…something’s wrong with my arm,” Hugo was gritting his teeth. His head was now throbbing as heat was filling every part of his body. Sweat was soaking him, regardless of how cold it was, and he was struggling to concentrate with how much the pain was overtaking him from his arm to his back.

  Andre shifted. He felt his hand on the back of his shoulder. “It pulled out of your shoulder.”

  Hugo bit into the bark. He can’t scream. He needed to scream. The pain was getting worse by the second. Each breath was becoming labored. His knees were buckling from beneath him.

  “What did he say?” Samma was climbing up the other side of the tree.

  Chase had found his way to almost level with the two of them. He looked up to where Hugo’s spear was still sticking out from the ground and shook his head. “That was a long drop.”

  “This is for thumping Chase in front of Maud,” Andre said in his ear.

  Hugo clenched his eyes and bit down on the bark after nodding. With one hand pressing his arm into the tree, Andre pushed a knee into Hugo’s back. He used his entire body to slam Hugo’s shoulder up and down with a hard, agonizing jerk. It did nothing but make the pain shoot out of his lungs in a pitched scream.

  “He’s hurt,” Samma said to Bruce and Damon when they had climbed to beside him.

  “Who?” Dalfur said breathily, still clambering up from grip to grip between trees and branches to get to them.

  “Hugo,” Chase called down before taking a wide step to beside Andre and Hugo, using a leafy branch of the tree to keep balance. To Andre, “Is it broken?”

  “Not that I can see,” Andre said over Hugo’s wailing.

  “Let me see,” Raphael was climbing up to where Chase had first been. Once he was up on the tree, he frowned at how far it was for him to reach the next hold and sank. Chase was a better climber than him.

  Chunks of the bark scraped the roof of Hugo’s mouth. He couldn’t stop crying out. He tried to swallow it down. This was more pain than he had ever endured in his life. It was all he could feel, all he could think about. It was everything. His breaths were screams. His heartbeats were pulses of agony.

  Chase tore Hugo’s sleeve from his shirt to look. He shrugged at it. “Not as bad as it could be. I’ll pull, you press it in.” Leaning over Hugo, to Bruce and Samma, “Hold him and don’t let him move. And I mean hold him. His arm is pulled from his shoulder.”

  “Really?” Dalfur was finally beside them. “That can happen?”

  Bruce shook his head. “Happened to me last summer,” he grabbed Hugo’s belt and climbed so that he could put all his weight over Hugo’s back with his arm wrapping him. “I screamed like a little girl, too.”

  “Wha—what are you doi—?” Hugo said between screams, but a sudden jerk only compounded the pain and made his pitched scream overtake his words, his body, his…everything.

  Chunks of bark filled his mouth and between teeth that were dislodging as he bit down. He was shaking against their holds, thrashing, as Chase took another hard tug at his arm, this time with a resounding pop. The numbness in his fingers became knife pricks as the blood returned to them. He spat the bark out and cried, cradling the joint of his arm and shoulder.

  “Did you get it set?” Bruce had found a way to pop his head up to their level.

  “I think so,” Chase was bracing with his rump on one tree and his feet planted on the one his brother and Hugo were on. “I don’t think he’ll be able to carry his spear anymore.”

  “I can carry it,” Hugo twisted onto his back without rolling to the side, heaving and hissing as he pressed at his throbbing shoulder. “I just need a minute.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Andre shook at him as he began untying the rope from his crossbow to use as a sling. “You can’t carry anything anymore.”

  Raphael suddenly dropped from the tree and slid down the slope on one knee until he gained a good hold below it. “They heard us!”

  Chase whipped his feet over the tree he was on to the other side to look. “Which way?”

  Andre spat with a toss of the rope to Hugo before searching for a way to get to beside his brother. Samma and Damon were looking around them with wide eyes, mostly searching the muddy slope instead of where their enemies might be coming from. Dalfur punched the nearest tree before stepping to where he could face away from the river on solid ground that was as level as it could be.

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  “How many?” Bruce called, easing his way to a spot similar to what Dalfur had found, just a little higher than him.

  “Ten, maybe more, coming our way,” Raphael stopped just below Hugo. “What do we do?”

  “How many?” Samma shrieked.

  “Why don’t you ask the Holy Spirit for some help or something?” Bruce growled at him.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Samma snapped at him. “If it did, I would’ve done it already.”

  “That’s…exactly…how…it…works…” Hugo tried to maneuver the rope under him and over his shoulder while keeping his arm bent across his chest. “Pray it.”

  “Really?” Samma looked up to him.

  Bruce was loading a bolt from his quiver into his crossbow, “We could really use His help about now.”

  “What do I do?” Damon was turning this way and that with his spear held to him more like a stuffed doll instead of a weapon.

  “Load your plowing crossbow!” Dalfur growled. “Bruce, hand this up to Hugo!” He held up Hugo’s crossbow by its bow end for Bruce to grab.

  Bruce grabbed it and tapped Samma’s feet with it. “Pass it up,” he said as Samma grabbed it from him.

  “I see two,” Chase whispered to Andre, looking down the bolt in his aimed crossbow. “I don’t think they can see us. We might be able to get away if we keep going.”

  “If you’re wrong…” Andre winced.

  “We take turns,” Chase rested his cheek on the stock, shrugging. “Keep them off the others while they climb.” He didn’t look way from aiming as he began pulling the ropes of his shield and spear from over his head and shoulder.

  “That’s a good idea,” Hugo said between teeth gripping one end of the rope sling to tighten the knot so it held his arm in place. “Raphael, take Chase’s spear and shield. Bruce…can you carry Andre’s?”

  Bruce quickly unloaded his bolt and replaced it in his quiver before climbing up the slope. “Yeah, hand them down.”

  “I can carry his shield,” Damon took it as they were passed between him and Samma. “I lost mine.”

  Bruce took the spear and wedged it between two trees to bring himself closer to the rest before reaching down to help Dalfur up. “You praying, yet?”

  “What?” Samma blinked at him. “Oh, right.”

  “We should have brought a real Paladin,” Dalfur heaved to claw through mud and grip tree roots.

  “Forgot how helpful blacksmiths are in times like these,” Bruce grumbled at him. Dalfur harumphed as an answer.

  Raphael was at Hugo’s spear far above all of them, kicking at the slope to find grip. Once he found it, he kicked himself to grab the spear, lifted himself up to stand with his foot braced on it, and thrust his own spear into the ground. He looked down to the others, “throw me a spear!”

  “…Amen,” Samma finished just in time to press his back into the slope as Dalfur and Bruce came side by side to lift Damon over him.

  Hugo reached his one good hand over the side of the tree and grabbed Damon’s trousers to lift him toward the first spear. “Hand him your spear,” he said as Damon climbed past him.

  “Move faster,” Andre said over his shoulder. “There’s a herd of the bastards!”

  “Do they know where we are?” Dalfur asked as he laced his hands together for Bruce to step on.

  “No, they’re headed this way because the scenery’s pretty, you plowing moron!” Andre had found a spot to crouch further up the tree, where it split into several branches over the rapids. He aimed his crossbow.

  “Why do you always have to call me a moron?” Dalfur growled as he clawed his way up the slope.

  Above them, Raphael thrust another spear a few spaces ahead of his and reached back for the next that Damon passed up to him, now standing on Hugo’s. Below Damon, Samma was being pushed up by Bruce with a toss of a hand on his rump to catch Hugo’s spear.

  “Hear anything yet?” Bruce asked once Samma was on the spear and reaching to take the one that Hugo handed to him, now that he was beside him.

  “Nothing,” Samma winced, passing that spear to Damon before reaching for the next—the last. “I don’t know how it all works, yet.”

  “What did you say?” Hugo asked as he stepped with one foot on Bruce’s bent knee and the other onto Bruce’s shoulder so Samma could pull him onto his spear.

  “I asked for him to send them away and help us get to the cave without anymore injuries,” Samma looked worried as he made sure Hugo was braced against the slope before continuing to the next spear.

  “I guess that’s a start,” Hugo blinked, trying to follow with only one hand.

  An arrow struck a tree and tumbled between Dalfur and Bruce over the side of the cliff. They both whipped their heads in time to see both Andre and Chase send bolts into the trees, reloading the instant they could.

  Andre was the first to shoot the next bolt as an arrow flew past him. Chase shot his and had to jerk his head sideways for an arrow to miss him by a sliver, his hair fluttering around his ear as he growled in frustration to reload. More arrows tumbled like rain from the trees between them.

  “Come on,” Dalfur called from the tree behind them with a hand out so he could pull Chase over.

  Chase let another bolt fly. Arrows were no longer flying past them in ones and twos, but were becoming constant and numerous. He called for Andre to go first, since he was faster at reloading. Another shot of his bolt and there was the sound of tumbling. Chase let out a prideful laugh as he reached for another bolt from his quiver.

  A rattle of leaves from the branches and Andre was running across the tree to Dalfur’s outstretched hand. Dalfur pulled him across and pressed against the slope to give him room to leap for the spear, looking to Chase to come next.

  “Come on!” Hugo called as Samma held onto the next spear with one arm around him, lifting both of them toward it. “We need that spear!”

  “Chase!” Dalfur waved for him.

  Chase let another bolt fly. Arrows were whipping past his ears, slicing his sleeves, sticking into trees or bouncing off of them into tumbles through the air, sometimes in pieces. He heard the tumbling of his aim being true yet again. He loaded the next with an excited, “Got another one!”

  “Dammit, come on!” Dalfur called to him.

  “One more, one more,” Chase took aim again. More arrows made his hair flutter, filling his ears with their whispers. He searched the greens and browns for slivers of silver. He found one.

  Dalfur screamed when an arrow punched through his thigh from between his legs, carrying it over the side of the tree. He scrambled to catch himself from falling off. The arrow snapped against the tree as he gripped his thigh against it, howling and growling at the same time. He clawed and scraped to grip the tree but he couldn’t stop from sliding over it.

  “Dalfur!” Chase leaped and caught him by his belt just as he was certain he would be tumbling down the hill to his death. He pulled Dalfur towards him, hunched over as arrows continued to fly past them.

  Bruce was hanging from the last spear, braced on the slope, with a hand reaching. Chase helped Dalfur up and shoved him into Bruce’s arm hold. Dalfur clawed, Chase lifted, and Bruce pushed the blacksmith to Samma and Andre’s outstretched hands.

  “That was close,” Bruce shook his head at Chase before continuing back up to the next spear behind the others. “Too close. Don’t take so long, next time.”

  “I won’t,” Chase let out a sigh of relief. He shouldered the crossbow and took a step back, then leapt for the spear.

  An arrow punched out of his eye from the back of his head. Chase’s fingers brushed the spear as he arched past it to the ground, still reaching. He tumbled and rolled down the hill, his limbs flailing and twisting uncontrollably, until he went over the cliff like a ragdoll to be swallowed by the rapids below.

  “No!” Andre jumped for his brother but Bruce caught him with a hard slam into the slope.

  “You’ll die, too!” Bruce’s voice scratched through tears. “Climb!” He grabbed Andre by his shirt and tossed him to the next spear. With a jerk, once he had his own grip on it, he pulled Hugo’s spear from the ground and tossed it up the line. “Go! He’s with Alden, now.”

  “There’s a path on the cliffside ahead,” Raphael pointed, slapping Hugo’s shoulder once he was on the spear at the top beside him. “I think it’s the one that leads to the falls.”

  “How far ahead is it?” Hugo was having trouble staying on his feet. He slid the spear that was handed up the line over his shoulder instead of handing it to him.

  “Not far,” Raphael hesitated with a worried wince and tearful eyes. “I think.”

  “Get us there, quickly,” Hugo nodded, trembling against his own want to cry.

  Damon was weeping with each clawing reach upward. Andre, using his shoulder to brace Dalfur from behind while it became soaked by the blood pouring from him, was roaring against the tears streaming down his face. Dalfur wailed in between shrieks of pain but clawed and climbed regardless. Bruce punched the dirt again and again between reaches, growling harder and louder each time, and pulled the next spear from the ground to pass it up.

  Hugo glanced down, his wounded arm tight against his chest, darting his eyes from his remaining friends and the arrows that were slicing through the air at them, behind them, around them. He had to remember to breathe. He had to blink away the want to collapse in on himself under the weight of what he had done, leading them into this, leading them to their deaths. He fluttered the tears from his lashes as the next spear came to him. He lifted it to Raphael before climbing to the next with a scrape of his chest and arm against the slope that only made him hurt more.

  It was pain he deserved. And it would never be enough for what happened to Chase under his watch.