In a small corner of Mexico, Esmeralda Ortega Cortez knelt in a church.

More than half of the buildings in the village are completely ruined, she thought. Was there some divine favor that spared this building? After everything she had seen over the last three months, it seemed completely plausible.

And if that is the case, God, will you help us out of this dilemma we find ourselves in?

As usual, the only answer to her silent plea was the sound of the wind as it pounded against the outside of the church.

Esmeralda rose to her feet, and at the same moment, she heard the door creaking open behind her.

“Is that you, Father?” she asked, hoping against hope that the priest would have returned.

But it was the little girl, Maria Garcia Cervantes, instead. The six-year-old was sniffling with tears in her eyes.

Esmeralda instantly took her into her arms and scooped her off the ground.

“Hey, mama, what’s wrong?” Esmeralda asked.

Maria continued sniffling in silence for a moment, and Esmeralda let her cry for those seconds in silence. Finally, Maria seemed ready to share what was wrong. She opened her mouth.

“Contreras is back, and he wants our sacrifice, Esmeralda,” she said. “What are we going to do? I’m scared.” Her lower lip wobbled as she finished explaining, and Esmeralda thought she would start a renewed round of crying, but Maria managed to hold it in.

“You know, all my friends call me Esmer,” Esmeralda said.

Maria’s eyes opened wide. “Am I your friend?” she asked.

“Of course!” I don’t have many, but I’m happy to add you to the list. “Tell me, why are you so worried, Maria? You know it won’t be you. No one could give up someone as cute as you as a sacrifice.”

Esmeralda cupped the little girl’s cheek, and she was rewarded with a smile and a tiny giggle. Then Maria frowned again.

“I’m not worried about me,” she said insistently.

“Then are you worried about me? You know I can hide?” Esmeralda said.

“No, not worried about you either,” Maria said.

Not even a little bit? Dang, kids are blunt!

“Well, then?” Esmeralda asked.

“I’m worried about cousin Martin!”

Esmeralda had to keep herself from laughing. She managed to maintain a serious face as the little girl stared at her earnestly. If I laughed, she’d never forgive me.

In this little village, everyone knew everyone else’s business. Esmeralda, as the teacher, knew more than most about the children’s business. She knew that Maria had a crush on little Martin for the better part of last year, until Esmeralda made sure that someone informed her that he was actually her cousin. Since then, the two had been the best of friends.

“It’s sweet of you to worry,” Esmeralda said. “Why do you think they want cousin Martin?”

“I don’t think Contreras wants cousin Martin,” Maria corrected.

Such a serious young girl, Esmeralda thought, carefully observing the way Maria’s facial expressions conveyed her sincerity.

“I think that our neighbors might be willing to give cousin Martin up,” Maria continued. “You know, he’s been sick ever since we came back from—from that other place.”

Esmeralda nodded. She knew vaguely about the other place Maria meant. The separate space where children had been taken during Orientation.

“Martin has been unwell,” Esmeralda said slowly. Her mind raced as she considered this. Despite herself, she was forced to take the wise little girl’s thought process very seriously. Being sickly, when the whole village was struggling to survive… Would they choose Martin as a sacrifice just for that?

Esmeralda would have liked to simply say, No, that will never happen.

But she had reason to believe otherwise.

In Orientation, didn’t people abandon the sick? The wounded? The dying? My mother…

Esmeralda stopped herself from going back down memory lane. She had learned a lot that she didn’t want to know about the people she grew up with in Orientation. That was all. What they were willing to do, and what they were not willing to face, in order to survive.

And now they were in a world where real monsters roamed free. Decency might be a thing of the past.

It would make logical sense for the villagers to choose Martin as their sacrifice if Alfonso Contreras was back, looking for human flesh to offer up to his dark god. No one wanted to be carved up and offered to Huitzipochtli.

Esmeralda swallowed. “You might have a point,” she told Maria.

“I knew it,” the little girl said. Little beads of water started welling up in her eyes again.

“You know what you need to do now?” Esmeralda asked.

“What can I do?” Maria asked.

“Think about how to escape. Can Martin walk?”

Maria nodded.

“All right. Now I need you to be brave and strong. I need you to go into Martin’s room and get him out of there. Take him somewhere no one else knows about. Do you have a hiding place like that?”

“I did,” Maria said. “Before the Earth moved.”

“Do you know if it’s still there?” Esmeralda asked.

Maria shook her head.

“Is that a ‘no,’ because it’s not still there, or a ‘no,’ you don’t know?”

“I don’t know,” Maria said.

“Then try taking him there anyway. If Contreras comes after you, I’ll find a way to distract him,” Esmeralda said.

“Are you going to be all right, Esmeral—Esmer?” Maria asked.

Esmeralda plastered a smile on her face. “Don’t you worry about me,” she said.

But she herself was worried.

Esmeralda and Maria emerged from the church together and immediately went their separate ways. Maria headed for one of the few houses that was still basically intact, where Martin lived. Esmeralda looked for where Contreras would be.

She found him in what had once been the village cantina, a building she had never spent any significant time in. Half of the building’s roof had caved in. But the bar was still standing.

Of course the bar is still standing. The System couldn’t get rid of alcohol, which makes men behave like animals. Then it would be doing us a favor…

The proprietor of the establishment, Jose Gomez Vega, was serving Contreras from the meager stock of alcohol that had survived. Beads of sweat stood out on Vega’s forehead, and although it was hot and sunny today, Esmeralda didn’t think it was the weather that had him sweating.

Contreras was playing with a knife as he drank—a pre-System weapon, not something he’d acquired in Orientation. The shiny metal glinted brightly in the sunlight that streamed through the collapsed ceiling.

“Well, hello, there, Esmer,” Contreras said, without turning.

She kept herself from flinching. Esmeralda had hoped he wouldn’t spot her so soon. She wasn’t certain of what she wanted to say just yet. But now she had to say something.

“Hello Alfonso,” she said quietly. She couldn’t keep the sadness from her voice. “I heard you were visiting.”

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“Oh, yeah?” he said, turning his head back to look at her. He smiled. His face was the same, besides the thin mustache, but somehow it was hard for her to see the boy she had thought was cute in school. “I wonder who told you that.”

She ignored the question. Contreras got up from the bar stool where he was sitting.

“You know I won’t be here long,” he said. “We could have some fun before I go. For old times’ sake.” He stepped closer to her. Almost close enough to kiss her. She smelled the sour odor of cheap whiskey on his breath.

“We don’t have any ‘old times’ to get nostalgic about,” she said.

“Just a girl with a crush,” Contreras said.

Her face grew hot. I can’t believe I ever liked you.

“That was when I thought you were smart,” she said. She would have gone further, but she had to remind herself that she wanted to keep him in this place for a while. She’d been lucky to find him here.

“Before I fell in with the wrong crowd,” he said under his breath.

Understatement of the century. The Azteca Cartel were the worst crowd he could possibly have fallen in with. People around here hated them. But they looked at Contreras differently after he joined, too. Showed him a kind of respect he’d never experienced before. The only real downside, if he cared about it, was that it closed some people off from him forever. People like Esmeralda.

She nodded. “But we don’t have to talk about that now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It seems kind of pressing to why I’m here—ah, but you probably already know that. Esmer the Wise knows everything. Let our friend here get you a drink instead of dwelling on unpleasant things.” Contreras gestured at the bartender, and he immediately began rummaging under the counter.

“I don’t drink,” Esmeralda began. But then she saw Jose was getting her a bottle of water from somewhere.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. A look that said, I know.

“Of course you don’t drink,” Contreras said. “You don’t do anything fun.” He made a lewd gesture.

“If you’re going to do that, I’ll drink elsewhere,” Esmeralda said. “I thought we were just going to talk about our school days, and maybe catch up.”

“Don’t be like that, Esmer,” Contreras said. He placed a hand on her arm, and she forced herself not to push it away.

“Then you behave yourself,” she said sternly.

He chuckled. “I can believe you became a teacher,” he said. “You were always so prim and proper.” He turned to Jose. “You know, she considered becoming a nun.”

Her face grew hot again. “I told you that in confidence.”

“A long time ago, yes,” Contreras said. “Since then, I seem to have lost your confidence completely.”

“You’ve done a lot to keep me from giving it to you,” she said quietly.

The conversation between them was awkward. By turns mocking and sentimental. Two people who had known each other for years in school, briefly dated, exchanged first kisses, and then gone down very different paths. But she kept him there for an hour.

She thought she might have rekindled some old feelings in Contreras, which was not her intention. Worth it, though. The children had to have hidden themselves away by now.

She tried to think about what she would do when the village offered someone else up as a sacrifice. She knew they would accede to the Aztecas’ demand. They would give someone up to Contreras. There was no spirit in the village to fight. But she despised them for it.

Once upon a time, I thought the people here were the type to stand up for what was right. She wrestled with what she would do after today was over. Take the kids with me and get out of here? Go where—South toward the city? North toward the border? Either way, she would be wandering through the desert with no equipment. She was no Mage who could conjure water. She had thought the Healer path made the most sense—and then had been forced to fight for her life with her stave and anything that came to hand.

How would she survive the desert? Let alone keep two children alive with her…

This crappy little village was in the middle of nowhere, but in itself, it was technically somewhere. By some miracle, the village well still stood. They still had access to water.

No, she thought. Have faith. God had sent her dreams during Orientation. She had heard the voice of an angel. And most importantly, she had survived. Esmeralda had to keep reminding herself that she had survived when many others had died. There had to be a reason for that.

If God wished for her to try something impossible in order for her to keep faith with Him and honor her convictions, he would give her the tools. She mustn’t be afraid.

The cantina had grown quiet, Esmeralda belatedly realized. She turned to face Contreras only to find he was staring at her intensely.

“I always loved the way you look when your mind goes elsewhere,” he said. “You were always imagining yourself in a better place—a better life, a higher position, just being somewhere doing more important things than whatever was happening in this shitty little village.”

She opened her mouth to reply. “I—”

“Don’t deny it,” he said, cutting her off. “I know. I’m not so different. I wanted something different too.”

And even though she still felt as if they were a world apart, she understood him. She saw things through his eyes for a moment—though her mind instantly rebelled at the shift of perspective. The next words she said came out harsher because of it.

“If you wanted to get something higher than this village, then why did you reach so far beneath you to find something different?” She had spoken her knee-jerk reaction aloud before she could take time to consider the wisdom of it.

“Oh, Esmer.” He shook his head. His eyes had a glint of sadness in them. “I am no saint, but my family is well provided for.” Contreras had moved his mother and little brother out of the village after he rose high enough in the cartel to take care of them.

“At whose expense?” she asked.

Contreras rose from his seat. “I think the village has had enough time to choose their offering to Huitzipochtli,” he said. “If they haven’t—well, I’ll help them make up their minds.” He flashed Esmeralda an ugly grin, and then his expression became more somber. “It’s been a pleasure having a drink with a lady. Don’t ever change, Esmer. I hope I see you again in fifty years, and you’ve become a nun. Then you can lecture me all you want.”

He put on the leather jacket he’d left lying on the bar stool beside him—Contreras seemed to prefer his pre-System clothing over the armor he had acquired in Orientation—and he walked out.

“Phew.” The bartender let out a long breath he’d been holding and smiled at Esmeralda. “I think you calmed him some, for what that’s worth. And old Felipe’s had time to say goodbye to everyone.”

Esmeralda’s heart sank. She had been contemplating walking away from this insignificant place if people here were really willing to sacrifice one of their friends and neighbors just to keep the village alive. Because Huitzipochtli would undoubtedly be thirsty for blood again soon.

But this was too much to bear. Felipe. He was such a kind man. Whenever Mama needed a ride into town, or if we were running low on food, he was always there. It had been a recurring problem after her father died, when Esmeralda was just a little girl.

Now he was going to his death—willingly, if she knew the old man at all—so that others would not have to die in his place. She imagined him saying goodbye to his two adult children, and hot tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sure he appreciates the extra hours of life you bought him,” Jose said, clearly trying to be comforting.

“Not good enough,” Esmeralda said, almost under her breath.

It only takes one person to decide to stand up for what’s right, she thought.

“What?” Jose was asking, but she ignored him.

She reached for her Small Bag of Deceptive Dimensions and she drew out the great bow she had obtained in Orientation. She had decided.

To hell with this village, if they want to give up one of their own. I’m not going to let it happen.

“Jose, is there a back way out of this place?” she asked.

His face took on a look of consternation.

“Now why do you need to know that? What are you going to do with that bow?” he asked.

“Just answer the question, please,” she replied firmly.

Finally, Jose led her out the back door. It was hidden by the collapsed roof.

Then Esmeralda ignored his pleas to know what she was going to do. She climbed up a nearby hill, until she reached the highest point that she could. She looked out over the dirt road that led out of the village.

This is the road Alfonso will have to ride down to bring Felipe back to his gang, she thought.

Esmeralda looked down, thinking about angles and the effect of wind and gravity on even an energy-based projectile like her magic arrows. She would only have one, perhaps two shots at this. If she missed, she might kill Felipe herself.

Finally, she steadied her breath. She heard the sound of Contreras’s motorcycle revving.

She drew the bowstring back, a gesture she had needed to perform hundreds of times in Orientation. She focused and materialized her arrow, a glowing shape of pure light and energy.

And he came into view, riding on his motorcycle with Felipe close behind him. Esmeralda would have to be more than precise. She would need to be perfect.

She didn’t give herself time to doubt.

Esmeralda loosed the arrow, and she saw the motorcycle instantly spin out of control.

She allowed herself a smile before she rushed down to check on Felipe and Contreras.

Both men were gasping when she reached them. The arrow had taken Felipe through his right lung, and he was extremely short of breath, though he still managed to smile at her.

“Es. Mer. Alda.” Every syllable was a struggle.

“Hush,” she said, and began Laying On Hands.

Her eyes strayed to Contreras, who had a hole right through the center of his chest and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Why couldn’t you have been different? she thought.

His lips were twitching, and she realized that Contreras was trying to speak. She tried to lean in and listen while still keeping her hands on Felipe’s chest.

“You are starting a war,” Contreras said.

“I know,” she replied.

“You can’t win,” he rasped, the words coming shallower as his body failed him.

“Probably not,” she said, “but I couldn’t find another way to do things. Better to have the fight now instead of later. We would only be weaker.”

“You, you have an answer for everything,” he said, almost laughing but running short of breath. “That’s why you were top of our class.”

I’m just thinking out loud, Esmeralda thought. I only did what I thought was right. I could not do otherwise.

“Not much of an achievement in this place,” she said.

“Goodbye, Esmer,” Contreras rasped.

“Goodbye, Alfonso,” she said.

Esmeralda leaned in and kissed him on the forehead as the last gasps left his body.