Max continued to watch Grace as she moved the barrel they had filled with liquid onto a small cart.

“You look… relaxed?” he half asked, half stated. “For someone about to do what you’re going to attempt, you’re smiling and not like you’ve gone crazy.”

Bobbing her head, Grace gently set the barrel down and then began tying the rope to secure it.

“I told Levi a little bit about what I have to do. I know he doesn’t fully understand, but he told me to make sure they can’t hurt people anymore.”

Holding the rope in both hands, she paused her cinching down the barrel and turned to look at Max, who was watching her. “You told your person too late, didn’t you?”

Frowning, Max nodded as he crossed his arms. “I wasn’t the man they loved anymore… I’m still not the man I should be, but that hasn’t kept me from trying.”

“And the consequences for breaking your quests?” Grace whispered quietly.

“Oh, let’s not worry about that right now,” Max replied. “Had you and I met on the battlefield a few years ago, it wouldn’t have even been a fight. I’d have kicked your arse blindfolded. Now… it’s the other way around.”

Frowning, Grace focused on the rope, ensuring the barrel wouldn’t come loose. The liquid inside smelled awful, but Max had told her it would burn hotter than anything she had ever experienced before. Only magic would burn worse.

Magic…

“You don’t have to come with me,” Grace stated, almost done with her task. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Maybe, but I’m not going to let you do this alone. Think of this as a slight form of watching over someone I care about,” Max said before coughing and clearing his throat. “Not that I’m saying I care about you.”

Grace turned back and saw Max looking upward at the dark sky, doing his best to not glance at her.

“Fine, I don’t like you either. Now, let’s go. I don’t need you tripping over things in the dark.”

“You’re certain about throwing it?” Max asked, still gauging the distance they were from the house the guards stayed in. “Seems a bit risky… miss, and it won’t do what you want.”

“The other option is one of us gets closer and tosses it. The torches on the side will catch fire and ignite the liquid. If the men inside wake up before I can set the place on fire, I’ll have to worry about more guards and possible bows and arrows.”

Nodding slowly, Max was still frowning. Even in the pitch-black night, she could see the frown on his face. To her, it was still like daytime.

“The light of the fire will blind the guards sitting by the campfire,” Max informed her. “They’ll lose their limited vision for a moment. Use that time to get close, toss your stones, and get out.”

Patting Max’s arm, Grace adjusted the strap of her pack filled with stones once more and picked up the barrel of liquid.

“Wish me luck,” she said as she moved closer to the guard area, hiding in the darkness of the moonless night.

As Grace vanished from his sight, Max almost prayed, catching himself and shaking his head.

“Damn girl, is going to get me in trouble,” he muttered as he adjusted the sword on his belt.

The closer she got to the guard barracks, the realization that Max was most likely right about how hard tossing the barrel would be was setting in. The way it sloshed and moved had made transporting it difficult. It wasn’t full and not heavy, but Grace’s mind told her that if she was off just a little bit, the further away she was from her target, the higher the chance of missing completely.

Slowly, she set the barrel down on the stone sidewalk, looking at the small fortified bridge area that led to the guards' positions. They were about seventy-five yards away, but she needed to cut that distance in half. Glancing down the street, she saw no lights on any of the houses, so she didn’t have to worry about being seen if she moved past one. The guards weren’t really paying much attention either, sitting on benches, poking the fire with a stick occasionally and chatting. They hadn’t shaved, and two of them appeared to have a tankard next to them on the ground.

For having lost so many men, they sure seem relaxed and undici–

Grace didn’t need to finish her thoughts to know something was wrong. Peering harder, she realized that none of the men looked like a guard. They weren’t in shape; the armor and sword looked to be on wrong. Even more worrisome was that none of them had a helmet on or the usual standard haircut the other guards had worn.

It’s a trap!

Glancing behind her, Grace saw Max still waiting where she had left him, the big man moving around anxiously.

What to do… I can’t leave this barrel here, and hiding it will be dangerous…

The street should have had torches, and now it all made sense. Someone was leading her into a trap.

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Trying to look calm, Grace casually scanned the area a little more as she pretended to be messing with the barrel.

If another emissary is here, they might be able to see like me…

She hadn’t hidden or tried to because of the dark night. She was walking like a fool out in the open.

Grabbing the barrel, Grace lifted it and took a few steps closer to her target.

I need to toss this and get it over with… I need to run!

Panic began to set in. Max had tried to talk to her about how the Lord Knight operated and how he was a thinker, not a fighter. She was stupid and thought the man would be like Michael and Edward.

Hefting the barrel over her head in both arms, Grace took a deep breath, moving two steps forward, letting her mind work the problem of how she needed to throw the barrel.

Right as she began to toss it, pain raced through her as an arrow pierced her chest. She stumbled slightly and heaved the barrel, completely off course.

Rising quickly, Grace knew where the arrow had roughly come from and immediately turned, sprinting toward safety, zig-zagging randomly, and heard an arrow hit the stone street behind her.

Pain surged with every step she took, and glancing down, Grace saw the shaft still sticking out of her left breast. Blood was coming from her lips, and she was struggling to breathe.

Yanking on the arrow brought more pain as she felt it catch on her ribs and flesh inside.

It’s barbed…

Her mind was swirling as she turned around a corner.

“Max!” she called out, a gurgling sound coming as she tried to speak.

He was only thirty yards away, but she saw him look in her direction.

“Trap!” she grunted, struggling to stay on her feet and glancing back at the area she had just been. An arrow whizzed past the corner, missing her by a foot.

Staggering toward Max, Grace felt like she was drowning.

“Grace?!” Max shouted out, trying to find her in the darkness.

“Max!” she tried to cry, but only a garbled sound came out.

He began to move forward, listening to the sounds of her steps and the heavy breathing.

They almost crashed into each other as Grace stumbled through the darkness, unable to stop her momentum.

“No!” Max shouted, finally able to make out Grace enough and the arrow through her chest. He tried to pull it and immediately stopped as she made a pained noise, blood coming from her mouth.

She was gagging, coughing, and choking, blood coming as Grace tried to breathe, unable to get the air her body needed.

“Listen!” Max exclaimed as he took a knife off his belt. “This is going to hurt! Trust me! I need to push this through, and then you can heal yourself!”

Grace could hear Max, but her mind was going dim. Her will pressed her to fight even as her mind ran out of the air it needed.

Max pulled her to the ground, wrapping his massive legs around her, and put his huge hand up the back of her shirt and leather armor. “I’m going to push!”

There was no other warning, no counting to three. The moment Max told Grace what he was about to do, he pushed the arrow deeper, holding her as she began to buck.

He cursed as he felt it hitting a bone, not feeling it against her skin.

“I need to shift it and push it. This is going to be a bitch!”

Grace’s eyes were as wide as a full moon, the pain of what Max was doing sending waves of agony through her body. She felt the tip of the arrow scratch against the back ribs, and then suddenly, Max jabbed the arrow between them, the metal barbs grinding along the two it passed between.

“Almost!” Max said, panting from the concern. He could feel the tip of the arrow now pushing out her back. He quickly made a hole in her armor with his knife, tearing it wider with his fingers.

“Last part!”

Grace wasn’t sure what would be worse. Dying in this moment or the agony of each of the barbed arrows that ground against her skin as Max pushed more of the arrow through her chest.

She could feel him fumbling with the tip against her back, the slickness of her blood making it hard to grab with his massive fingers.

He pushed again, earning more of the arrow to grab onto. He started to pull, blood gushing from both wounds and when he knew he could pull it out, he quickly snapped off the end of the fletching.

“Be ready to heal yourself!”

Max yanked out the arrow as best as he could, wishing he could do it without scrapping the bones like he did, but there was no time.

“Now!”

Grace blinked… her eyes were so wet, and she knew what she needed to do but couldn’t make her mind focus.

“Grace! Heal!”

The word Max shouted echoed through her mind.

Heal…

Suddenly, warmth and a soothing sensation took over. Moments passed, and Grace wasn’t sure when, but suddenly, she could breathe again. Her chest ached for a moment as she continued to breathe, feeling the blood inside her lungs begin to vanish, unsure of where it had gone.

“We need to move! Hold on!”

Suddenly, Max had her on his shoulders and was moving along the street.

Grace realized there was shouting and some noises coming from back in the direction of the guard shack. During all that pain and suffering, she hadn’t been aware of the commotion behind her. They were coming, ready to capture her or find a dead body from whoever had shot her.

Even as she bounced on Max’s massive shoulder, she felt amazing. The pain that had felt unbearable was gone.

“I’m fine now!” Grace said, patting Max on the shoulder. “You can put me down.”

“In a moment,” he replied, ignoring her request. “How far are they?”

Grace looked behind and saw that about fifty yards away were the guards, lanterns, and weapons out, searching for her, following the trail of blood she had left.

“Fifty yards. They're going to slow down soon.”

“Good,” he grunted. “I’ll put you down in a minute.”

Grace watched Max run through the streets, not stumbling in the dark and saw that he was quickly leaving the men behind.

As they came to an intersection, Max turned south and then stopped after a few more yards, setting her down on the ground.

Max was breathing harder than usual, taking a few deep breaths as he began to walk, now free from his very light burden.

“We need… to get… home,” Max said between breaths.

“Why?”

“You didn’t see… the arrow… it makes sense now… they fired a flaming arrow into the air.”

Grace saw the grim look Max wore.

“They’re at our home?”

Without waiting, Grace took off running.

Max called out once for her to stop, but she didn’t look back. Nothing would slow her down.