Grim managed to stay on his feet until the door shut, then he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. Divines, his gut hurt like hell. The back of his head felt sticky and wet from where one of the men nearly cracked his skull open. Grim groaned. That did not go how he planned. Rough hands grabbed him beneath the arms and hauled him up. Grim struggled in their grasp.

“Easy son. Calm yourself,” a voice said, James.

Grim stopped struggling and began to help as the man half dragged him to the singular table he hadn’t destroyed. “I’ll pay for the damages,” he mumbled.

James Ignored him and heaved him up onto the table. Grim moaned and tried to curl up around his midsection but James pulled him apart. “I need you to work with me Grim.”

Grim gritted his teeth as the man began to probe his stomach, asking if it hurt when he pressed down. Grim ignored him until his gut exploded into pain when the man pressed down. “Stop, Stop Stop.”

Lissa walked up to Grim and took his hand. She winced as he squeezed it harder than he meant to but did not object. She stroked his hair with her free hand and wiped away the sweat along his brow.

James grimaced down at Grim. “Shite. Something inside him ruptured.”

Lissa looked up at her father. “What does that mean?”

“Bad things, hon. Will you be okay alone with him? He needs a healer.”

Lissa nodded to her father. “I’ll make sure nobody hurts him.”

James smiled at his daughter. “I know you will. I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Hang in there Grim.” He turned from them and rushed out the door, his sense of urgency evident in his pace.

Lissa squeezed Grim’s hand tighter as he grunted from a fresh lance of pain. Her large brown eyes met his and the sadness he saw there only made him feel more wretched. Grim forced words from his lips through sheer effort of will. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this.”

Lissa lowered her head, seeming to not want to meet his eyes. “It’s not your fault. Mom thinks I don’t notice when she disappears, and dad acts like nothing is ever wrong. I’m not surprised, only sad.” She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Why’d you do it Grim?”

Grim let a slow breath out, mastering the pain. “I wanted to know what the Sons wanted from-”

“No,” she cut him off. “Why’d you do-” her voice faltered. “It.”

Grim darkened. He knew what she meant. “My life was on the line. They were going to die either way.”

Lissa opened her mouth, looking as if she were going to correct him. She paused and looked away from him. A long moment passed before she spoke. “I once asked Dad why Uncle Marc did what he does. He told me something your father said, ‘These lives we give, for the remembrance of tomorrow.’” Lissa met Grim’s eyes. “Is this how you want to be remembered, Grim?”

Grim scrunched his eyes, not from the pain, but to hide the tears in his eyes. “It hurts,” he whispered.

Lissa wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Grim shook his head, gritting his teeth. “No.” He shook it again. “No, You’re right. I needed to hear that.” He paused. “I was afraid. A coward. I should have stood with those people rather than against them.”

Lissa frowned, looking uneasy. “We’re all afraid,” she said, more to herself than him. “I just want my family to stop fighting and for my friends to be safe. The Sons hurt them and the Greencloaks hunt him- I mean them.” The girl blushed, but Grim scarcely noticed. “I just think people deserve better.”

Grim released the girl’s hand and forced himself to sit upright, ignoring the stabbing pain in his gut. He put a shaky hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye. “It will get better, I promise.”

He blinked in surprise as she pushed him back, flat against the table. “Get back down you idiot. What are you thinking?”

Grim groaned. The door did too. Lissa whirled around, staring wide-eyed as a man who wasn’t her father walked in, axe held firmly in his hands. Lissa screamed, not moving from her position between Grim and the door.

The man in the doorway winced. “Divines lass, quiet down.” Girm recognized the voice. Edgar.

The Captain’s face was illuminated as he walked closer to the dim candlelight. Lissa backed up further against the table, seeming to try to push Grim and the entire table backward. Girm raised a hand to her shoulder, and she looked over at him. “It’s okay,” he said.

Edgar looked Grim up and down as he walked closer. “God’s balls man. What the hell were you thinking, coming into the Outwalls after today? Honestly, I’m surprised I found you still in one piece.”

Grim sighed through the pain. He really didn’t want a lecture. “Why are you here?”

Edgar rubbed his eyes. “Well, half the castle saw you dragging a kid covered in soot through the halls and out the gate. I’ll tell you, the maids seemed particularly upset about that-”

“Have you found your point yet?” Grim growled.

Edgar narrowed his eyes at Grim. “After the night I spent looking for you, I wasn’t about to let you out of my sight, lest daddy send me after you again.”

“Gee thanks, you were a lot of help here.”

Edgar shrugged. “I don’t get paid enough to get my face smashed in on my own initiative. Definitely not while I’m off duty. I’ll leave that to you.”

Grim chuckled, the motion making him cough. Pain wracked his body. He tasted iron.

Edgar frowned. “You look like somebody took a meat tenderizer to you. The hell happened?”

Grim shook his head. “This is Lissa.” He just wanted to stop talking.

Lissa perked up at the mention of her name and turned to Edgar. She held out her hand. “Melissa Elaina Haverson, but my friends call me Lissa. You can too.”

Edgar couldn’t seem to help smiling as he clasped her arm and gave it a firm shake. “Edgar of Nordburrow, at your service m’lady.”

Lissa gave him a weak smile but couldn’t seem to contain her curiosity despite the somber mood. “Are you a Briar Guard? Do you work with Grim? Would you like something to drink? Or eat? Have you ever been outside the city? Is it nice in the castle?”

Edgar blinked in surprise, mouth open and looking unsure how to respond to that.

The door groaned open and James walked in. He started at the sight of Edgar. “Hey! If it isn’t obvious, we’re closed.”

Lissa turned to James. “It’s okay. He and Grim are friends and now so am I.”

Edgar raised a skeptical eyebrow. James relaxed as he walked to the table, an angry expression on his face. “Asshole healer said he wasn’t going to walk the streets this late at night.”

Edgar grabbed Grim by the arm and began to haul him off the table. “Come on, I know somewhere nearby to take him.” Edgar pulled Grim to his feet.

Shooting pains raced through his side and Grim lurched forward. Edgar stumbled, nearly dropping Grim to the ground before James caught him by the other arm.

“Divines, he’s heavy. Lissa, get the door.”

Lissa raced to the door. Its hinges screamed as she opened it for the three men to pass.

Grim winced with every step and his head spun as Edgar and James pulled him outside. Moonlight illuminated the empty streets, glinting off the puddles along the side of the road. A door opened a block away, the warm glow of firelight spilling out on the road. A woman peeked outside and emptied a bucket in the gutters. The door shut, and the light disappeared as quickly as it came. Hounds barked in the distance.

Grim focused on putting one foot in front of the other as the two men pulled him down the street. Each step sent waves of agony coursing through his abdomen. He fought the urge to vomit as nausea threatened to overtake him. How much further?

Edgar led them down several streets with a familiarity that made Grim uneasy. As James began to lag under Grim’s weight, Edgar shouldered more weight onto himself without so much as slowing his stride. Lissa followed on their heels, her arms crossed about herself as she shivered in the cool night air. That above all else kept Grim moving. If she could get through this night, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up.

After what felt like miles, Edgar came to a halt before a wooden door as fine as any Grim had seen in the inner city. The house attached to it looked like a proper house, complete with wooden supports and a thatched roof. It stood in stark contrast to the shacks that surrounded it.

James stopped before the door, his face aghast. “No, we cannot bother her with this.”

Edgar ignored him, walked up to the door and pounded his fist against the wood. James winced and Lissa shrunk back into the cold and darkness. Grim puked onto the street, his vomit red with blood. Edgar grimaced, shaking it off his boots while they waited in silence.

The night was quiet. Grim could hear the creaking of stairs from beyond the door over the pounding of his pulse. A light came on inside, its glow creeping through the closed shutters. The creaking of floorboards grew nearer, then the door opened.

Grim lifted his eyes from the ground to see an old woman regarding him. Her skin was withered with age, and her hair colored a silver that glowed in the moonlight. She wore a robe that seemed to be made of feathers plucked from ravens and from her neck dangled a necklace laced through with the skulls of small creatures. Her eyes were sharp enough to cut and locked onto Grim, seeming to sense the weakness in him. She leaned heavily against the door frame, not in the least diminishing the power Grim felt radiating from her.

“Like a child, you still bring me wounded creatures to be healed. Some things never change do they Edgar?” she asked.

Edgar smiled up at the woman. “Nice to see you too, Mom.”

“Come,” she beckoned, gesturing for them to enter. James and Lissa shifted uncomfortably as they entered the house.

Grim’s head was woozy but it was impossible to miss the sight that greeted him inside. Beyond the hearth and foyer sat a large wooden altar. Dozens of candles were stacked upon it, illuminating the tapestry hung above. It depicted a woman in black, her eyes cast in shadow. In one blood-drenched hand she held a similarly stained dagger at her side. In the other she held an orb, blacker than the darkest shadows. Her lips were curved into a smile, at odds with the tears of blood running down her cheeks. A creature covered in armored plates lay curled about her feet, seeming content. The work was the finest craftsmanship Grim had ever seen and the sight halted him in his tracks.

James and Edgar had to pull him forward before he averted his eyes. The healer cleared the table in the foyer and the two men lifted Grim onto its wood. “He’s bleeding inside, can you fix him?” Edgar asked.

The old woman rolled her eyes at him. “You know I can, you lummox, but why should I?”

“He’s the Earls son.”

The woman sniffed. “Those who give death should be prepared to accept it themselves. I don’t see why I should take on his burden.”

“Mother, please.”

Grim’s vision grew hazy as the two argued his fate. A scraping noise drew his attention from the far corner of the room. A ball of scales on the ground seemed to unravel into a creature that resembled a badger crossed with a dragon. It was the same creature depicted in the tapestry above the altar. The beast rose onto its four short legs and lumbered towards Grim. The claws of its forelegs carved gashes into the wooden floor with every step. It was then that Grim noticed the ground looked as if an army of cats had used it as a scratching pole.

The creature flicked a forked tongue towards him. Lissa noticed it first and let out a small shriek as she backed away from the beast. James rushed to her, putting himself between her and the creature. Edgar spared it a glance, then turned his attention back to his mother.

The old woman looked to James and Lissa. “Calm down you two. He won’t bite until I tell him to.”

That didn’t seem to put either of them at ease, as they watched the creature make the last few steps to the table. The plates along its sides and back rasped, as it raised its head to look at Grim. Grim met its gaze, watching as it flicked its tongue out at him like a snake. He reached his hand out to it and caressed its head.

The creature let out a low rumble. Grim flinched as the plates beneath his hand exuded warmth and seemed to flutter. His eyes widened as The scales along it’s body rippled like the waves of the ocean, each pulse giving off a wave of heat that warmed the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared, mesmerized by the beast before him.

The old woman smacked his hand away from the animal and the pulsing heat abruptly stopped. “By the Reaper, boy. Are you trying to give an old woman heat stroke?”

Grim blinked in surprise as the creature flicked out a long, narrow tongue, licking his hand and seeking to rekindle whatever had just happened. He struggled to sort through his feelings as Edgar unlatched the shutters on the windows, letting in cool gusts of air. The sweat on Grim’s brow quickly cooled and chilled his skin. He felt even more tired than he had a moment ago. But The warmth had felt so good, and he was so cold. Grim sat up and reached toward the creature again.

“Edgar,” the woman called.

The Captain turned to Grim and rushed toward him. His hand slammed into Grim’s chest, forcing him down against the table. Grim grunted as his head banged against the wood. The old woman touched a hand to his forehead.

Sparks of pink light came from her fingers and danced across his eyes as they flowed down his body and sank into his skin. Warmth cascaded through him with the light. His eyes rolled up, and his eyelids drooped.

Images and sounds flashed through his mind. The echoes of screams mingled with whispers just beyond his hearing. Shadows flickered without light, darkness seeming to bend. A forest of vast trees swayed in the wind, a field of corpses before it. The bodies rose to their feet, every head turning to him. Empty eye sockets stared accusingly at him. He could hear the buzzing of flies. The sound grew louder and louder. He blinked, and it stopped. His eyes opened to look into a familiar face he had seen in dozens of churches. The Goddess stood before him, her golden irises giving off a warm glow as they regarded him. She reached out a warm hand and caressed his face. The touch seared his flesh. He tried to scream but no noise fled his lungs. She gave him a sad smile.

Grim bucked upwards, heart pounding and heaving for air. He scanned the room with wild eyes, finding himself back in the old woman’s house. He locked eyes with her. Her skin seemed paler, and her eyes a shade more intense than before. She graced him with a grimace. “Don’t play with things you don’t understand boy.”

Grim blinked in surprise and felt his stomach. The overwhelming pain that was there had disappeared. His bruises and split flesh remained, but he felt whole. Better than he had felt in years. He looked to the old woman. “You’re touched by the divines.”

She made no move to respond, only stared into his eyes. She waited a long moment, forcing an uncomfortable silence over the room. Grim was unfazed, used to long silences from his time with the Earl. James and Lissa shifted uncomfortably, as far from the creature by the table as possible. Grim watched it, as it settled onto the floor and curled into an armored ball, seeming to have lost interest in what was happening.

The old woman finally spoke up. “I’m Melna. And as you probably noticed, this lummox is my son,” she said, gesturing to Edgar. The captain narrowed his eyes at his mother but didn’t speak up.

James relaxed as the creature stilled. He approached Melna and fell to his knees with his fist over his heart and head bowed. “I see you, priestess Melna. Reaper guide your way.”

Melna rewarded the man with a wide smile. “It’s wonderful to meet a man of decency and respect in these times.” She shot Grim a pointed look out of the corner of her eyes. She walked over to James and touched a finger to his forehead. “I see you, child of the Rills. Reaper guide you home.” She smiled. “But not too soon I hope.”

James nodded with solemnity and rose to his feet as Grim climbed off the table. He couldn’t help but stare at the creature curled up into a ball by his feet. Laying down, it’s back rose higher than his knees. “What is that?”

“A Keeper,” Melna answered. There used to be a few dozen of them in the city alone, but the Greencloaks took a liking to hunting them for their skins. Old Kryll is the last I know of here, but you can find thousands more in the Highlands.”

Lissa cautiously approached the beast. “What does he Keep?”

Melna gestured to the tapestry on the wall, "The fire under his scales is said to keep the coldness of death away. A load of rubbish If I ever heard it. But he makes for good company and keeps the riff raff away.” She turned her eyes to the Keeper. “Kryll.”

The Keeper unfurled itself, it’s long, heavy tail stretching outwards as it rolled to its feet. Kryll looked to Melna. “Rise,” she commanded.

The creature curled its armored tail beneath its feet and levered itself into the air. Standing with its tail fully extended, it was as tall as Grim. The old woman reached out to its soft belly and stroked the tender flesh there. The Keeper trilled in pleasure, it’s short legs wiggling in the air.

Lissa giggled at the sight. “Can I pet him?”

Melna nodded and gestured to the Keeper. Lissa looked to her father. James bit his lip nervously, as he looked at the creature but nodded his assent. The girl slowly approached Kryll who turned to regard her with beady, black eyes. She reached out her hand and stroked his underbelly. The Keeper trilled at her touch. A long, narrow tongue shot from his snout-like mouth and licked Lissa along the cheek.

The girl let out a yelp and leaped backward. Kryll slammed to the ground, curling into a ball faster than Grim could blink. Melna laughed at Lissa’s reaction. “He likes you girl.”

Lissa blushed in embarrassment. She knelt down to the ball of plates and stroked Kryll’s armored back. The Keeper shifted his tail and peeked at the girl from behind his armored shell. A gentle trill echoed from inside. Lissa smiled, seeming content to sit next to Kryll.

Melna shared the girl’s smile for a moment before turning her attention back to the men in the room. “I suppose you all are staying here for the night?”

James spoke, “I wouldn’t want to infringe on your hospitality.”

Melna narrowed her eyes. “That wasn’t a question. I’ll not have a little girl wandering these streets at night.” She turned to Grim. “I know you feel full of energy after being healed, but you need to rest more than anyone in this room.”

Grim still had his eyes locked on the Keeper. The creature didn’t seem to have pupils, but Grim could have sworn it was glancing at him from inside its ball of plates.

“Did you hear me boy?”

Grim blinked. “Uh. Yes. Rest. Sure.” He shook his head. “I thought the Venarans took all the god-touched south after the war.”

Melna frowned, her wrinkles mirroring the motion of her lips. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I am far past the expiration of my usefulness. I can’t even begin to remember how many men I healed in the war, only for them to go back to the front lines and get themselves killed. Every wound I healed took a toll on me. To give life, you must take life. There is a balance and an order that must be observed.”

Melna staggered to a chair by the table. Edgar rushed over and took her by the arm, helping her ease into the seat. She patted his arm in thanks. “By the end, I was so shriveled up, they left me behind. They had plenty of fresh bodies touched by the goddess to take home.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Those touched by the Reaper were less fortunate.” Her eyes grew distant, as if reliving old memories. “That trollop they worship gives out her favor like a whore at midsummer festival. No, I was not needed.”

Melna looked up to her son. “Edgar. My bones feel hollow with weariness. Be a dear and help me to my feet.”

Edgar nodded and helped Melna rise to her feet. She looked at Lissa who still petted Kryll with a look of wonder on her face. “Darling, I don’t think I caught your name.”

Lissa perked up and hopped to her feet. “Oh, I’m Melissa Elaina Haverson but my friends call me Lissa. You can too! Uh- ma’am.”

Melna smiled at her exuberance. “I have an extra bed you can sleep on upstairs, my dear. I’m sure my son won’t mind you using it.”

Edgar quietly sighed.

Lissa’s eyes widened. “An actual bed?”

Melna nodded. “Yes. Come, help an old woman up the stairs and I’ll show you.”

Lissa leapt over to the old woman and took her by her free arm. Melna turned to Edgar. “I think I’m in capable hands, Edgar. You boys make yourself at home down here.” Lissa helped Melna ascend the stairs to the second floor. “Goodnight,” she called down.

The men responded in kind before sitting down at the table. James held out his arm to Edgar. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m James.”

Edgar clasped the man’s arm from across the table. “Edgar.”

James nodded. “Never thought I’d ever be in this house unless Lissa was on the edge of death.”

Edgar unclasped his weapon belt and placed his axe along the table. “What she did is not something you ask lightly,” he said looking at Grim. “She gave you a piece of her life to make you whole. Don’t ever forget that.”

Grim frowned and nodded. “I won’t,” he promised. “But how is she your mother? She looks older than any woman I’ve ever seen before.”

Edgar leaned toward Grim. “Never say that around her, bastard. And If I hear you speak of it again I’ll make the beating you took today look like a tickle fight.” He paused. “My mother is forty-five Grim. What you see is the price she paid to save hundreds of lives and you will respect her for it.”

Grim ran a hand across his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He turned to look at the altar. “Isn’t worship of the Reaper forbidden?”

James snorted. “Yes. But if you think anybody in the Outwalls would let something happen to her, then you’re a fool. The priestess can do as she pleases.”

Grim turned his eyes to the altar. Its candles flickered, casting shadows that seemed to writhe across the tapestry. The rusty hue of old blood stained the wood. His eyes were drawn up to the woman. Despite her shadowed eyes, he felt as if she was watching him. The sensation sent tingles down his spine. He turned his head to look at Kryll. The Keeper stared intently at him from inside his shell.