Denny was used to being cut, bashed, and stabbed by every weapon under the sun, but she hated bullets. The hot metal mixed with the impact of the small pellet going faster than the eye could track was unbearable on her skin. It was always sudden and unpredictable, and she had to live with the pain.

She shouldn't have suffered such pain. The boy was a spoiled rich kid who had never been in a fight before. When Denny first saw him on the ship's deck, he had no scare on his hands or face. Yet he managed to outmaneuver her.

The black feathered harpy scratched on a tree in frustration. She was on a small island she stumbled upon after flying south from the town the boy was in. She could have chosen to roost on many islands like this in the Mediterranean, but with so many being occupied by one faction or another, she wanted to be alone as she gnashed her teeth and shredded the tree into wood shavings.

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It should have been easy.

Tears started to flood Denny's eyes as the weight of her failure began to sink in. Any further attempts to take the blue pearls would be impossible by herself. The boy and his family would be on high alert, and even if they didn't have the means to kill Denny, they could still hurt her.

Imprison her.

She needed help, but anyone considering helping her would want the pearls themselves. But what other choice did she have?

After wiping her tears, Denny took to the sky and flew west. If she was going to get help, she might as well go for the best.