"Please, forgive me, my good sir, I must borrow just one of your lovely petals…ah!” A smile crossed my lips as I carefully plucked a petal from the Wildedrop daisy. “There we go! You have my thanks, Sir.” My tongue poking from my lips, I carefully placed the petal in the waiting alembic.

  “You must forgive me, but, in my defense, this is the moment for which you were conceived.” I laughed and adjusted the heat ,then turned to the flower. A breed of my creation, born from Lady Dewdrop daisy and Sir Wildekin vine, it was a marvelous little darling. Invasive and serpentine, but with the most delightful blue petals circling a center of sunburned orange. I had to keep him in his own pot, separate from the others, but he seemed to prefer it that way. More room to spread and grow.

  I leaned on my elbows, placing my chin on my upturned palms and tilted my head. “Will you have the properties I so desire, my good sir?” Wildekin berries were the foundation of restorative tonics, but even they had their limits. Dewdrop daisies were far less common and produced so little oil they were considered not worth the effort. But that oil was among the most powerful of numbing agents.

  Liquid slowly dripped into the collection glass, making a delicate plink as it hit the bottom. It would be some time before it finished, and I’d caught up on preparing the day’s deliveries and replenished our stock of the common remedies. “I suppose…I have some time to myself, don’t I? Hm…” I glanced at the Wildedrop daisy. “Would you care to hear a story, my good sir?”

  The flowering plant waved in the warm, gentle breeze.

  “Very good! Allow me but a moment, and I will return.” I rose to my feet and made my way back to the cabin. As I searched for the book, I spied a letter from my brother on the table, picking it up to peruse as I continued my search.

  It had been five Summers now since Vasco’s departure. Home had become quieter, Spring Hill emptier in their absence. They wrote letters. Elysium’s grace did they write letters. One per month each on a slow month.

  Tales of training exercises, brutal instructors, and rivalries forged and turned to friendships in the crucible of Champion’s Forge. The far eastern side of the valley seemed quite different from Spring Hill. More vibrant and lively, a constant shuffling of new recruits and grizzled veterans.

  Lucien’s letters were uplifting and inspiring, telling of their constant victories against the Fiend Lord’s forces, driving back Fellbeasts by the bushel. Vasco’s were more grounded, recounting exactly what transpired, assuring us of their safety, and their continued faith that the Promised Healer would soon appear. But with each year that passed, I felt my faith, once a brilliant, burning flame, starting to cool.

  “I’m back! My apologies for the delay, I could not recall where I placed this tome. Oh, but I think you’ll love it, Sir Wildedrop. It comes highly recommended by Miss Louise, and she’s not one for exaggeration.” I settled into my seat at the workbench, opened the book, and cleared my throat.

  “The Empty Guardian. Once, in a land far away, there lived a boy…”

  ***

  “…in the light of the rising sun, the wretched Beast at last met its end, reduced to nought but ash in the wind. Young Lyric returned victorious, Fair Madeline at his side, and the kingdom once more knew the peace it had long forgotten.” The last lines hung heavy in the air, their weight marred by crinkling of paper as I pinched the page’s edge between my fingers. My brow furrowed, lips pursed, and I turned it, hoping to see something more. But, I was left wanting.

  I sighed and closed the book, setting it on the bench beside me, and turned to Sir Wildedrop. “I suppose such an ending was inevitable, was it not?” He waved in response; I shook my head. “It’s always the same…a tragedy presented as a triumph.”

  With a frown, I turned back to my work. My eyes widened, and a smile found its way to my face once again. The collection glass was filled, a milky oil resting atop the distilled water. I turned off the burner and gathered a phial and a dropper.

  “Let us pray we’ve reached the end of today’s disappointments, shall we?”

  ***

  Another hour passed.

  I held my breath, adding the final drops of the Wildedrop oil to the mixture before me. It changed, fading from vibrant red to a pale orange-yellow. As I shook the phial, it grew thick, sloshing with the consistency of half-thawed ice.

  “Testing shows the Wildedrop oil has the necessary properties, restorative and soothing, producing a not-unpleasant chill when applied. Highly effective in small doses.” I spoke aloud the words I jotted down in my notes. Then, I smiled at the Wildedrop daisy.

  “I think you may, indeed, be the answer to my endeavors, my good sir.” My expression wavered, eyes narrowed, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. There was only one test that would prove my conclusion.

  A twisting tightness stirred in my chest, equal parts anxiety and eagerness. Years of research and testing had led to this moment. I hadn’t the words to describe the joy I would feel should it prove successful, nor the crushing despair that would follow should it fail.

  The sound of the cabin door closing caused me to jump, heart leaping into my throat. I clutched the phial close to my chest and shot to my feet. “Pray for my success, Sir Wildedrop.” I thanked the flower with a slight bow of my head, then turned and hurried to back to the cabin on stiff legs.

  When I reached the door, I froze. My heart raced with the urgency of a hummingbird’s wings within my chest, threatening to burst free.

  “Celeste? Are you out there?” Mother called from within.

  I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, then entered. “I am. I have something I’d like to show you, if you’ve the time?”

  She was seated at the table, only now starting to show the first signs of age. A sprinkling of gray in her curls, the slightest discomfort in her movements. At present, her knees were sore from the trip down to Charles’ farm. Her hands — my eyes were always drawn to her hands — rested on her lap, clasped to relieve the ever-present ache in her fingers.

  “I do. Are you well, Dear? You’ve got that look about you, the one that tells me you’re up to something.” Mother chuckled and gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit. Before you faint, girl. You’re pale as a sheet.”

  “It is nothing like that, I assure you.” Despite my protests, I pulled out the chair and took a seat in front of, not across from, her. I unfurled my hands from my chest, revealing the phial I held so tenderly.

  “What is this?” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Celeste…is this what you’ve been working so diligently on?”

  I nodded. “It is. I believe I may have…well, I think that this ointment may be capable of relieving the pain in your hands. I know my other attempts have failed, and while I don’t claim to be even half the apothecary you are, I believe my experiments have proved to be most promising. In theory, at least, though I’ve only tested it on myself, but —“ I bit my lip when Mother laughed.

  “You’re rambling, Dear. You don’t need to try so hard to convince me.” She looked down at her hands, then held one out to me. “Go on then. Let’s see the fruits of your labor. Titania knows I’ll be the first to sing your praises if it works as you hope.”

  “Yes! Of course. Right away.” My hands shook as I uncorked the phial. Taking her hand in mine, I carefully applied a few drops to her knuckles, corked the phial once more, then set about massaging it in. My thumbs drew firm circles around each of her knuckles, alternating lines up the backs of her hands to her wrists, then back down to the tips of her fingers.

  As the mixture sank in, I could feel the muscles loosening and the surface ache dulling. But though it soothed down to the bone, lessening her suffering for certain, it could not pierce through to the pain at the root.

  “Try the other.” Mother said, placing her other hand atop mine.

  I nodded, clenching my jaw as I repeated the process with a few drops more than before. Again, it worked, but only so far. Lessened the pain, but did not remove it entirely.

  “I’m sorry…” I said after several minutes of kneading and praying.

  Mother took my hands in hers and shook her head. “Don’t be, Dear. You’ve not failed. This new tincture is quite miraculous. My hands feel as they did when I was young. I think you’ll find others quite satisfied with the results.”

  “But then why do you yet suffer?” I pressed my thumbs against her knuckles, feeling their ache reflected in mine, a burn buried deeper than any ointment could reach.

  “I never told you, did I?” She sighed. “Well, I suppose you’re old enough to know the truth of it.”

  “The truth of what?”

  “The source of this pain. It’s not age as I’ve told you before. Oh, some of it was, and you’ve mended the scar left by time’s arrow wonderfully, Dear.” Mother smiled, a solemn, tired smile, and squeezed my hands. There was a hint of hesitation in her voice, her mouth hanging open a moment longer than expected before she began to speak again.

  “It was the end of Vasco’s third Winter. A bitter, bleak Winter, one we barely made It through alive. Food was scarce…maybe that’s what drove it as far South as Spring Hill.”

  “Drove what, Mother?”

  Her brow furrowed, her lips pulled back into a scowl. “A dreadtusk, this hulking, vicious beast. It rampaged through Charles’ farm, would have slaughtered what little livestock we had left and left us destitute.”

  The memory of the injured regiment of Guardians from years back flashed in my mind. A tightness gripped my chest until I could not breathe.

  “We all came together, men and women alike, to drive it off.” Mother shook her head, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I can’t…I can’t begin to tell you the terror I felt facing that wicked creature. Spears and arrows broke against its skin, only enraging it. Hannah’s mother, Yvette, was the first to fall. Oh, Celeste, she was a dear, gentle woman. But she fought brave as any Hero to protect us.”

  Her grip on my hands grew painful, the ache in her fingers flaring up worse than I’d ever felt. “We only survived thanks to Giulio. He was the strongest man I’ve ever known — Vasco comes by it naturally, I assure you — and when he saw Yvette fall, he was taken by righteous fury. He took his old woodcutting ax and carved a canyon through that wicked thing’s throat.”

  “Oh, Mother…” Fresh tears flowed down my cheeks, the pain in my chest reflecting hers, one so deep, so profound that it eclipsed that in her hands. I held onto her with all my strength, but deep down, I knew there was no medicine that could soothe this damage.

  “But, with it’s dying breath, it r-ran him through.” Mother’s voice broke, and she began to weep. “I tried to save him. Did everything I could and more, soaked my hands in the fellblood that vile beast spilled on him. But, I’m no Healer, just an apothecary. He died in my arms, and I was left with this.” She gestured to her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

  I rose from my chair and wrapped my arms around her. We wept together, hearts aching in unison. Though I’m certain her story was meant to excuse my failure, to assure me that I could give up on this dead end dream without judgment, it only reignited my determination.

  ***

  Following her story, I chose to make the afternoon deliveries in Mother’s place. Though disappointed that it had not lived up to my hopes for it, I tucked the phial of Wildedrop tonic away in my pouch all the same.

  My wandering led me to the Emerald Sundrop, Spring Hill’s tavern. Big enough to seat us all — a common occurrence on those nights where we gathered for celebrations or to simply enjoy one another’s company — it was maintained by the owners, Leon and Sara, at great expense. An expense they paid for with Spring Hill’s sole export of note: Snakebite ale. A drink both delightfully sour and decadently sweet.

  I admit, though it brings me no small amount of shame, I had developed a powerful taste for it. Whenever our deliveries were bound for the Sundrop, I urgently searched for an excuse to be the one to make them.

  That day was no different. As I strode into the tavern, I was greeted by the sight of the proprietress, Sara, sweeping the floors. Immediately, I was hounded by the blistering pain in her feet and back, my hands moving to clutch my stomach as if I were the one a couple months from birthing a child.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Leon is out, I take it?”

  She looked up at the sound of my voice and chuckled — breathless and weary. “He is, the lout. Said he needed to see Ari about an order we placed, but I think he just grew tired of me bellyaching.” She set aside the broom, leaning against the counter to catch her breath and rubbing her pronounced stomach. “You have the medicine? This little menace is driving me up the wall. Haven’t held down a meal in two days.”

  I nodded. “I do, my good lady. And,” the wheels in my head began to turn, bringing a smile to my face despite my anxious shuffling from one sore foot to the other, “I’ve a new remedy I think you’ll find most alluring. If I may?” I gestured to a table, but Sara waved her hand.

  “I’m well enough, Celeste. You needn’t go to the trouble on my behalf. Just the medicine is all.”

  “Nonsense. You’re in quite a bit of pain, my good lady, pain I am well-equipped to combat. Now sit, or I’ll be forced to treat you standing, a task neither of us would find preferable.” I offered her my hand, which she accepted with a sigh.

  “Your mother’s right, you know? Worst girl since Eve. Bullying a poor, pregnant woman.”

  I laughed and kneeled down at her feet, slipping them from her shoes. Her ankles were swollen, soles red, heels bearing the brunt of her agony. “Quite the contrary, my lady. I’m here to offer you a bit of ease through these difficult times. Now, you may feel a chill, but I assure you, it’s temporary”

  As I worked the ointment into her feet, I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the pain start to dull. Sara sat back, shoulders slack and eyes shut, a serene smile spread across her face.

  “My word…I’ll never doubt you again, Celeste. Was this Demi’s doing?”

  A smile played at my lips. “I must claim credit for this mixture. Months of effort well-spent, wouldn’t you agree?” I finished up and wiped my hands off on my apron, then placed Sara’s shoes back on her feet. When I helped her stand, we both beamed at the results.

  “I would, indeed. You have my thanks.” She kissed my cheek before returning to pick up her broom.

  My frown wavered. “Miss Sara, would you not be willing to take a break? I’d feel a fair bit more at ease if I knew you were lying down before I left.”

  “Much as I’d love to, Celeste, you know how it goes. Leon needs me to run this place, he gets far too distracted with misadventures and gossip.”

  Her pain was minimal, no more than one would expect from someone in her state. A nagging part of me wanted to argue, to take her by the hand and lead her to bed, to not settle until she agreed. But, Uncle Gus’s advice echoed in my head and I bit my tongue.

  Instead, I settled for placing the nausea tonics on the counter. “Just a sip before meals and you should be able to hold it down. If you run out, don’t hesitate to let us know, day or night, I’ll brew more myself if needed. And please…try to rest.”

  “Thank you again, Celeste.” She paused, glancing up at me with a playful glint in her eye. Then, she ducked into the back and returned with two bottles of Snakebite ale, placing them in my hands. “Don’t think I forgot. Try not to drink them too fast and do something foolish.”

  I chuckled as I took them. Though I had quite a thirst for the drink, my constitution proved unflappable. No matter how strong the brew, I couldn’t seem to feel the dizzying effects as others did.

  “I will do my best, Miss Sara. Thank you kindly. Please let me know if the pain returns, lest we both suffer needlessly.” I bowed my head and left with a prize in either hand.

  ***

  I exited the Sundrop, my deliveries done. The bottles weighed heavy in my hands and on my mind, my tongue especially dry after holding it earlier. Overhead, the Sun was just beginning its descent, the first hints of orange on the edge of an otherwise blue sky.

  ‘I have the time.’ I told myself, strolling to the bench at the edge of the square and taking a seat. A short search through my pouch for a bottle opener, the pleasing pop of the cork coming loose, and soon I was sipping the sweet-sour nectar and letting its taste wash away the disappointment from earlier.

  The ointment wasn’t what I had hoped, but had proved helpful nonetheless. That was at least some silver lining to the dark, gloomy clouds looming over my thoughts.

  Across from me, Eldwin was chatting with Hannah and her father, Ari, who were proudly showing off a pair of wolves they’d procured on the day’s hunt. Ari wasn’t impressive to look at, standing barely a hair taller than his daughter, but he was reliable and talented.

  Hannah glanced my way and raised a hand to wave, one I returned with a smile and another sip. We hadn’t much time to talk these days, consumed by our vocations, but with Vasco and Lucien gone, she was the closest to me in age.

  I considered going over to speak with them, but no sooner had I corked my drink, I was struck by a sudden, blistering sensation, like fire flowing through my veins. It took my feet out from underneath me and sent me crashing to the ground.

  “Celeste!” Hannah rushed over to me. “Is something wrong?”

  We turned at the sound of shuffling feet and a low, droning moan.

  There was a traveler dress in tattered linens at the entrance to the hamlet, just outside the Emerald Sundrop. He swayed from one foot to the other, eyes glazed and wandering, lips blackened and face pale. His shoes were worn, soles coming undone with each dragging step he took, arms limp at his sides, fingers throbbing, nails chewed to the quick.

  He was the source of the blinding pain.

  My body moved with no need to be told, picking me up from the ground and approaching him. It hurt to walk, to stand upright and not mimic his jerking, unnatural movements, but with all the strength I could summon, I forced a smile to my face and called out to him.

  “Greetings, my good sir. You seem to be in a bit of distress, is there something I can do to help?” As I drew closer, I could make out the dark scrapes and bruises along his gaunt frame. In particular, a swelling on his collarbone, as if stung by some great insect, though far larger than any I’d ever seen. “Sir?”

  The traveler’s head swiveled toward me, eyes focusing first on my boots, then on my face. They grew wide, pupils dilating, and his hands flew to his face, gripping and clawing at it in a fright. The pain from the sting throbbed and his veins burned hotter.

  “You…you’re another one. Kn-Knife-eared Fiend!”

  The man’s voice rose to a strangled scream, and he charged at me, knocking me to the ground with dreadful force.

  “Celeste!”

  “Get back, you!”

  Several voices called out. Hannah rushed to my side, arrow drawn. The men grabbed the traveler by the arms, halting his charge. He fought against them for a moment, then his eyes cleared and his pain subsided.

  “No…no, no, no, what have I done? Are…are you ahh…” The traveler’s head fell; his body went limp.

  Ari caught him around the waist and gestured with his head. “Outside of town. Charles has some ropes we can use.”

  “Right. Easy does it, lad.” Eldwin hooked his arm under the traveler’s shoulders, and together they carried him out of town.

  Once they were gone, I turned to look at Hannah. She still held her bow at the ready, arrow drawn, but shaking in her grasp. She flinched when I touched her arm.

  “Are you all right, Hannah?”

  “Me?” She laughed. A short, frightened sound. “You’re the one on the ground, Celeste. Would it kill you to worry about yourself for once?” Hannah lowered her bow and returned the arrow to her quiver. Then she helped me to my feet.

  “Thank you. Have you seen such a malady before? He’s in such immense pain…it’s maddening.” I rubbed my arms, trying to shake off the lingering sting, but though it was fading, it was still too close to ignore.

  She shook her head. “Never seen it before, but Father told me about it. Blight-touched, I think they call it. It’s what happens to a man is infected by fellblood. Slowly drives them mad, until they become little more than a Fellbeast themselves.”

  “Fellblood…” I massaged my hands, feeling the memory of Mother’s pain in my fingers.

  ***

  At dinner that night, I sat across from Mother without an appetite. My mind was across the hamlet, down the hill, and with the traveler who was now tied up at the side of the road. Even now, I could still feel the prickling sensation in my veins, the throbbing in my collarbone. Every so often, it spiked enough to make me flinch, a reaction that wasn’t lost on my mother.

  “What do they mean to do with him?”

  “We’ve sent word to the Valeguard.” When my eyes remained locked on her, Mother set her silverware down and raised her head to meet my gaze. “When they arrive…they will likely have to put him down.”

  My lips screwed into a scowl. “That’s awful. He’s done nothing to deserve such a fate.”

  “Perhaps not yet…” Mother paused. I could see her mulling over how to proceed, choosing her next words carefully. “There’s no cure for a fellblood infection, Celeste. Just as there’s no removing the burn.” She started rubbing her hands, their pain agitated. Soon, I was doing the same. “Given time, the man he was before will be gone and only a monster will remain. He stopped himself from harming you, but eventually, he will hurt, even kill, someone.”

  I turned away from her, staring at the door to the cabin, imagining that I could see through the wood to the place where he was held. Bound, writhing in pain and madness, his final moments spent in agony until we — the good people of Spring Hill — tossed him into Oblivion’s embrace.

  “Leave it be, Celeste. No good can come from being reckless. Not this time.”

  A long pause followed. My teeth sank into my bottom lip, then I lowered my head and stared at my untouched dinner. “I promise.”

  ***

  The early morning was still pitch black when I crept out of my room. Mother was asleep in her rocker, facing the hall that led to my room.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” I whispered before stepping out into the night. A vicious howling echoed through the valley, followed by strangled sobs and pleas for help. I followed those sounds and the suffering that caused them to the source at the edge of the forest.

  The traveler was on the ground, neck and wrists bound in rope, tied to a thick Serpent oak. He sat with his knees drawn to his chest, scratching deep gashes into his face with his fingers. Every so often, he lurched forward, howling like a beast, before collapsing back into pained, desperate sobs.

  When I drew close enough, he looked up with a start.

  “No! Stay away! St-stay away from me!” He tried to back away, but the rope around his throat left him little room to move.

  I raised a finger to my lips and shushed him. “It’s all right, my good sir. I am not here to seek vengeance or to harm you. I’m an apothecary, and I want to help you.”

  “Did you — No! No, no, no! Liar! You’re one of them. You’re just — oh Titania, save me. Someone please.” His shrill cries dwindled to pathetic whimpering, face buried in his hands. “Just finish me already! Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  His pain was the worst it had ever been. Sharp enough to sap the strength from my legs. I gently lowered myself to the ground, holding my hands up to show him I had no weapon.

  “I am not here to harm you, my good sir. My name is Celeste. I’m told you’ve been infected by fellblood?”

  “As you well know!” His voice turned sharp, bestial and snarling. Fighting against his bindings, he clawed at the air. When he realized I was out of reach, he went slack and clawed at his face. “Please don’t hurt me!”

  My brow furrowed, and I pursed lips. I could not blame him for his fear. The anguish that wracked his body was immense, more awful than my darkest imaginings. I could not begin to comprehend the suffering that had infected his thoughts. “I wish to help you, sir. What might I call you?”

  The traveler trembled. Slowly, he drew his hands away from his face, peering up at me with wide, shaking eyes. “W-William. My name was — my name is William. I’m…” His eyes went unfocused, staring into the distance. “A teacher. I was a teacher.”

  “It is my pleasure to meet you, William. Whence do you hail?” I kept my voice soft, biting back the bile that crept into my throat with every painful beat of his heart.

  “J…” William cleared his throat and shook his head. “Jade Hollow. I was…I was well-respected back in Jade Hollow. Then I —“ He winced, clutching his head. A pounding, splitting pain squeezed his skull, like a handful of knives digging into his brain. “A rotfly. J-just one rotfly. I was protecting someone, but I don’t remember who. Then…then he appeared. Oh Titania, why him? What did I do?”

  I pulled my hand away from my head. Thoughts swimming, vision blurred, I fought to maintain my composure. He needed me to be strong if I was going to help him.

  “I am so sorry to hear that, William. I don’t…” I bit my lip and shook my head. “I know not how to cure you. But, I might be able to offer you some relief.” From my pouch, I produced a small phial. “This is Stillroot Extract. It can quiet your thoughts and give you a dreamless sleep. It won’t undo the damage the fellblood has done, but perhaps it can slow the effects while I seek out the cure?”

  William drew his hands back from his head. Eyes flitting between the phial and my face. “Why? Aren’t you…aren’t you like him?”

  I tilted my head. “Like who, William?”

  He raised his hand to his head, pointing at his ears. “You have…your ears. They’re…they’re just like —“ William lurched forward, clutching his face. Eyes bulging, bloodshot veins about to burst, he ground his teeth, spittle pouring from his lips.

  "William? Are you —“ But when I reached out for him, he threw his head back and howled.

  The traveler’s once bloodshot eyes were now ink black, his teeth growing into fangs before my very eyes. With a roar, he tore free, snapping the rope around his throat as if it were a frayed thread. His wrists were tied, but his hands — fingernails grown out to a razor’s point — reached for my throat.

  “Wait! You can yet resist it, William!” I caught his wrists, but I was not Vasco. My strength was meager, even for my frame, and he forced me to the ground without the slightest hesitation. The veins beneath his tattered skin pumped black with fell strength. Claw-like nails dug into my throat, spilling rivulets of blood onto the ground.

  His face, twisted into a mask of mindless fury, lowered toward mine, mouth easing open like a wolf set to devour a hare.

  “Don’t…don’t give — ugh! — don’t give into it, William! You can still be s-saved —“

  My feet kicked, pressing into the dirt, body thrusting to dislodge him. But beneath his weight, I was powerless, unable to do anything but writhe in our shared pain and fight the urge to scream. When his teeth sank into my shoulder, my willpower faltered and I cried out.

  In the next instant, the weight was gone. My hands flew to my injured arm, clutching desperately to stem the flow of blood seeping through my fingers. I lifted my head, my eyes, blurred with tears, struggling to follow the clashing silhouettes.

  One burning in agony; the other quickly joining it.

  I heard a familiar voice shout, “Stay away from her, monster!” It was the Huntsman. He held the traveler’s wrists, body shaking with effort to try to pin him to the ground. But every attack glanced against the fallen teacher’s withered frame as if he were made of stone.

  He tossed Ari aside and turned toward me again. The Huntsman tackled him once more, beating his fists against his face. I felt my knuckles burst, flesh tearing open as the traveler bit down on Ari’s fist. In the time it took my savior to recoil in pain, the traveler struck, clawed hands tearing at his throat with a powerful strike that splattered the ground in blood and silenced Ari’s cries.

  “Ari! No! No, no, no!” Though every inch of me burned in phantom pain — my throat the newest among them — I pushed myself to my hands and knees, crawling toward them. I saw Ari’s glassy eyes, felt the cold, haunting grasp of Oblivion’s wings embracing him. His hands continued to hold on to the rampaging traveler, even as the last light left his eyes and his body went limp and frigid.

  The traveler lunged for me.

  “NO!” A shriek split the night, followed by an arrow that caught the traveler in the temple. It sent him crashing to the ground, stunned, but still raging. Another arrow struck his throat; a third struck his neck.

  Hannah appeared, kicking him away from me before unloading arrow after arrow into his still twitching body. Her quiver was empty before the cold finally claimed him.

  She glanced back at me, eyes sparkling with tears, then turned toward her fallen father. “No…no, please, don’t leave me, too.” Hannah slumped over him and sobbed, the first tears I’d ever seen her shed.

  My legs were numb, my body trembling from the cold, as I made my way to her. I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, burying my face in her back. I wanted to say something, anything, to ease the agony twisting like a knife in her heart. But no words came to mind. Nothing did, save for selfish, guilty thoughts.

  Wishing I could have saved Ari; still wishing I could have saved William.

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