“I need light,” the man whispered.

Grace groaned but had already prevented the man from running into something twice.

“Fine,” growled Grace. “Stay here and don’t move.”

The man nodded, and Grace saw a small candle on a counter near the wall and moved quickly, her feet barely making a sound as she grabbed it and brought it over to the man.

“How are you going to light it?” she asked, not seeing flint, steel, or a fire going anywhere.

“I have something that will work, but I need to get to my drawer on the other side.”

Unsure if the man would try to be brave, Grace decided to enact the plan she had already thought of.

She moved to the hall they had just entered and opened the door slightly.

“You two, go stand by the stairs. If he doesn’t help or something happens, go kill the girls.”

After speaking quietly in the hallway, she shut it and moved to where the man stood, swaying slightly in the dark.

“You only get one chance and remember that. They’ll slice your daughter's throats if they're lucky.”

The man nodded, and Grace moved him to the counter, watching as he felt where he was and followed it around. He opened a drawer, and Grace stood a little bit away and behind him, dagger ready in case he tried something.

“I’m going to light this with a fire stick. So please don’t think I’m doing anything to fight you,” the man whispered.

He pulled out a wood stick and rubbed it against the counter, which caused the tip to erupt into flame. The room lit up quickly, and the man’s fingers shook as he held the firestick to the candle and lit it. Blowing out the wood, he turned and saw Grace watching him.

“You’re just a girl,” he whispered, a look of shock in his eyes.

“No, you’re wrong. I’ve killed more men than I want to admit, and right now, I’m not afraid of killing more. I need your help, and you can either help or die.”

She watched as the man studied her, seeing how she stood and talked.

There was no doubt Grace wasn't bragging. He could see a killer behind her eyes.

“Just don’t hurt my girls!” he exclaimed louder than he meant. “What do you need?”

“I need a cure for some poison. My entire side of the town was poisoned by some food they ate last night, and now everyone is sweating, vomiting, and ev–”

The blade was pressed against the man’s shirt, the tip ready to slip through and into the flesh behind it.

“We didn’t steal a thing. We paid for it all! What is it? What did the knight have you do?!”

Looking down at the knife and then at Grace’s eyes, the man pressed himself against the counter, trying to ease the pain of what she was doing.

“I… I can make a cure… it… it will take a bit, but I can! Trust me!”

Grace was shaking. She was so mad and realized she was digging the knife into the man’s side.

Forcing herself to pull it away, she saw blood on the tip and growled.

“How long?!”

“How many people? How many are sick?”

It only took a moment to do the math in her head, but realizing how many there were almost made her knees buckle.

“Over two hundred.”

The man’s face went white. “Two… two hundred? I… I’m not sure I can make that much.”

“Why not?” Grace growled, moving the knife back toward him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I don’t have the supplies. Getting them would be impossible right now. I can maybe make enough for a hundred… maybe.”

Grace wanted to shout and break something. What she really wanted to do was cut every inch of skin off that knight's body. She wanted to hear him scream. Wanted to feed him the very thing he had, for some reason, done to her and her people.

Would any of this have happened if I had just died that day? Would everyone be alive?

Grace was angry with herself, where she was, and how trapped she felt, so she did what she had to do.

“How long for that much?”

“Six… six hours. It won’t be quiet, though,” he replied, glancing at the door.

“Do what you can and start now,” Grace said, moving to the door and holding a hand outside.

The man nodded and began moving frantically around the shop, grabbing ingredients from the shelves in jars and pulling out all sorts of equipment.

Grace crushed the charcoal the man had given her. She saw the three large bags he had pulled out and realized most of the time would probably be spent preparing to crush it all.

He showed her how to do it once, and her mind picked it up immediately, able to mimic it exactly.

With that task being done by her, the man had changed the time to maybe three hours.

As she ground charcoal nonstop, she watched Fransisco combining different ingredients while heating up others and making liquid boil.

When he shared his name and never got hers back, he realized she wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Hours passed, and Grace was exhausted but alert. The sun would be coming up soon, and she needed this done.

Fransisco had started making paste from everything, mixing and mashing as she finished crushing charcoal. He then pressed it into metal tins she had never seen before, filling each one full. Soon the counter was littered with them, and Grace wondered how many more Fransisco might have.

“We’re almost done,” he said as he finished mixing the last batch. “You’ll need to give them a spoonful of this, mixed with a large cup of water, and force them to drink it. It will taste horrible, but this is the only way.”

“How long will it take to work?”

The man swallowed and brushed his hair back that had fallen over his face often during the night. “They need to keep drinking water. Wait an hour before they drink and then every few hours after that. In a few days, they will be well. Also, if they can try to eat soup or broth, meat and –”

“We don’t have that other stuff… the meat that we had was poisoned.”

Her tone kept Fransisco from saying anything else. He just nodded and finished the task he was working on.

Slivers of sunlight were starting to come in through the windows, and Grace could feel her heart beating faster. She needed this done and needed to be gone.

Grabbing a sack that had charcoal in it earlier, she moved to the counter and began stuffing the tins into the bag.

Fransisco said nothing, mashing and scraping the stone bowl he had everything in.

As she finished putting the last ones in the sack, he began filling up more tins.

“Thank you,” Grace said, her voice soft for the first time.

He nodded and gave the only smile she could remember him showing.

“You realize if this doesn’t work, even the knight and guards won’t be able to protect you?”

He fumbled the tool he used to put the paste in the tin. It fell and hit the counter, depositing the mixture he had on it.

One moment, they had been almost cordial, and the next, he saw and heard the truth of who Grace was.

He nodded, scooping the black-colored paste off the counter and moving faster.

Grace held the bag in her hands. A few pieces of coal they hadn’t needed were on top in case someone needed to see what she had.

She could see Fransisco looking at her, the door, and the light outside, knowing that time was running out before his girls might be up.

“I pray we never need to meet again,” Grace said.

He nodded, and as Grace grabbed her sack off the floor, the door from the house side of the shop opened, and one of twin girls in wearing a wrinkled night gown entered the room. She rubbed her eyes in shock at seeing Grace standing in the room with her father.

Cursing to herself, Grace felt the quest she had hoped to complete slip through her hands. She was going to use her Persuade skill and make it so the man didn’t remember her, but now that wasn’t an option.

In the time it took for the girl to say, ‘Who's this daddy’ Grace knew she had only two real choices.

Do I kill them all, or do I allow one to go free?

She saw Fransisco’s face begin to change. He had believed that he and his daughters would escape harm. He had done what had been required. Seeing his daughter and knowing what it meant, Fransisco opened his mouth to say stop.

The little girl’s eyes glossed over, and Grace caught her in her hands. It looked like the girl would fall over as well.

Staring at her were eyes that looked like Levi’s when he woke up in the morning. Not aware yet of the setting he was in.

“I want you to go back to your bed upstairs and sleep. Do not get up until someone wakes you up. When people ask what happened, you will not remember me or what happened to your father. Do you understand?”

The girl's head nodded slowly.

“Good. Now go back to bed.”

She turned around slowly, moving back through the open door and down the hallway toward the stairs.

Grace forced herself not to look at the body at her feet. Running to where the bag she had dropped was, she scooped up the charcoal that had fallen out and put it back in.

She almost considered setting fire but knew other houses might burn if she did.

I’ve killed enough… what would Levi think about me if he knew what I did to that…

Cutting that thought off and the pain of those blank eyes staring up at the ceiling, Grace couldn’t help but know that she still had so many more people to kill.

I swear I will make that man suffer for what he has forced me to do!

Running to the back door, she quickly undid all the locks and latches and moved into the alley. Lilly appeared from behind a crate. Shutting the door behind her, Grace began to scurry down the street, trying not to draw attention from those already out.

I need to get home… please don’t make me have to kill anyone else…

With her bent toward the ground, Grace assumed a role she had played far too long. Nobody who didn’t belong here and just doing a task to survive.