A gentle prodding shook his shoulder. He mumbled under his breath, the fogginess of sleep drawing him back in. The prodding grew into shaking. He groaned and surrendered to wakefulness. Bleary eyes opened to the dreariness of reality. The grey colored sky cast the world into a drabness that suited the city’s name. A hand shook his shoulder, fully bringing him awake. He blinked as strands of hair fluttered into his eyes.

“You started snoring.”

Kid blushed as he pulled his head from Lissa’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. It was kind of cute. You sounded like an adorable piglet.”

Kid narrowed his eyes, unsure how to respond to that. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes. I didn’t want to wake you but then you started growling in my ear.” She pinched him.

“Ah! Gods. Don’t pretend you’re an angel when you sleep. I can hear you across the street some nights.”

“Can not.”

“Can too.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Kid smiled.

Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Do you want to see something amazing?”

Kid cocked his head. “Amazing?”

She grinned. “You have to see it.”

Kid hesitated. The last time she had shown him something ‘amazing’ it was a particularly large puddle that she promptly pushed him into. “Sure.” Kid ran a hand through his hair. He was going to regret this.

Lissa lit up and grabbed him by the hand. She pulled the two of them to their feet and they dashed past their tree to the crack between the two buildings. They edged through the gap and popped out into the street. The fog clinging to his skin like a wet blanket was dissipating in the heat of the day, and beams of sunlight shined through the clouds. The added warmth barely took the edge off the chill. Kid pulled his bloodied jacket tighter about him, wincing as his exposed fingers burned with the effort.

Lissa caught his pained expression and frowned. “Where we’re going, there’s somebody who can help with your hands.” She rushed off down the street, leaving Kid jogging to catch up with her. Passersby eyed Kid warily, taking in his bloodied clothes. But nobody seemed to care much. What were they going to do? Call the guards? Kid snorted.

Lissa led them several blocks deeper into the Outwalls and as they walked past the dilapidated shacks, Kid noticed they were being followed. At first, he thought it was an older boy looking to roll him over for an easy score. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Then he caught a glimpse of their stalker as they rounded a corner. It was a grown man. The glint of steel at his hip was burned into Kid’s eyes as the wall separated them.

Kid grabbed Lissa by the arm. “Run.”

She didn’t question him or hesitate. She took off, racing down the street. Kid followed in her wake, his feet pounding against the dirt road in time with his heart. A moment later he heard a distant curse sound behind them. Kid chanced a look over his shoulder and saw the man racing after them. His heart beat faster and his feet quickened with fear. He pulled Lissa down a narrow side alley. Rusted nails stuck out from the walls, threatening to reward their haste with blood. Running away was one of the few times being small served him well.

They darted through the alley, dodging the nails. As they reached the end, Kid looked over his shoulder to see their pursuer barreling towards them, heedless of the fresh blood flowing through the ragged tears in his shirt. Kid followed Lissa down the street they emerged into. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he looked for a place to hide. Nothing. Just empty street and bare houses.

Kid began to panic as he saw the man emerge from the alley, rage drawn across his face. Kid shuddered as he imagined the blade of the man’s axe slicing through his flesh. He became acutely aware of the blood flowing through his veins. Kid ran faster, following Lissa as she turned a corner. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the man getting closer.

Kid bowled into Lissa, almost knocking her down. He blinked in surprise as he found his footing. Why did she stop? Kid looked up. Three more men stood a dozen paces from them, weapons bared. The panic began to overtake him, and he felt his limbs begin to shake. Lissa ran to the door of an oddly upscale house and began banging on the door. Kid turned around to look for somewhere to run.

A hand grabbed him by the arm and flung him to the ground. Kid’s head bounced against the dirt. Black spots danced across his eyes. He scrabbled at the dirt, his hands feeling like he was back in the chimney again. A boot kicked him in the side, flipping him onto his back. Kid wheezed, looking into the eyes of the man who had chased him.

“This was a new shirt you little shit.” The man raised his axe.

Kid rolled away from the man. He screamed as the axe clipped against his shoulder blade. He tried to move that arm to scramble away but it exploded in pain, collapsing under his weight. He looked up. Lissa was only a few paces away, still hammering at the door. “Melna!” she screamed.

One of the men who cut them off was almost on her. Kid’s eyes fixed on the glint of steel in his hands. The claws of terror sank deeper into Kid. Warmth spread across his legs. His limbs were going rigid. The man behind him cursed. The man in front grabbed Lissa by the hair, yanking her chin up. The dagger rose to her throat.

Kid drew the dagger Marc had given him. He pushed off the ground with his injured arm. Something in his shoulder popped and he collapsed, screaming.

The door next to Lissa slammed open, knocking into the girl and the man holding her, sending them stumbling. An old woman stood in the doorway next to the strangest creature Kid had ever seen. Its eyes locked on the man holding Lissa. It leapt forward on all fours and plowed into both Lissa and the man holding her, flinging them from their feet. Lissa scrambled away while the beast stomped across the fallen man. Bones snapped wherever it’s feet landed. It reared back, thick claws raised.

“Kryll. Heel.” The old woman commanded. The beast leapt from the screaming man and padded back to the woman, wobbling on its short legs. Kid glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him. His attacker seemed as dumbstruck as he was. Kid took advantage of the distraction and crawled to the creature guarding the women. The man let him go.

The only sound was the muffled sobbing of the man Kryll mauled. The other three men stared at Melna and shared uneasy glances. The old woman ignored them and walked to Kid, pulling him to his feet by his good arm. “Get behind the Keeper,” she whispered.

Kid stared at her, biting his lip to keep from moaning in pain. She stepped around him toward the men. They dropped their weapons as if afraid to point them toward her. The man who attacked Kid fell to his knees, head bowed. His mouth worked silently, as if trying to find words.

Melna spoke first. “Carver, I trust your sister is recovering past the worst of the flux?”

The man swallowed and nodded. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

She looked to the other two who similarly dropped to the ground. “And Ghram, Your son-”

“Me boy’s dead.” Ghram stared hard at the ground.

Carver spoke. “He’s dead because Marc-”

Hilda raised her hand and the man silenced. “I’ve heard enough. Whatever Marc has done does not excuse murdering children because you’re too craven to face him yourselves.” The men bristled but didn’t speak against her.

Melna shook her head. “Sons of the Reaper.” She spat. “Her sons are all men and I don’t see any of those here. Go home boys.”

Carver looked up at Melna. Kid could see the shame and anger warring in his eyes. Carver looked away, stashed his weapons and walked to his fallen friend. The three men hoisted him and walked away.

“Carver!” Melna called.

Carver looked over his shoulder at her.

“Don’t forget to pick up Ghretta’s medicine tomorrow.”

The man nodded, eyes on the ground. Then he led his men away.

Kid slumped against the wall of the old woman’s house, a dull throbbing pain shooting from his shoulder and down his arm. The adrenaline took off the edge, but it still made him grit his teeth. Tears beaded at the corner of his eyes while he watched their attackers disappear around a corner.

When they were out of sight, Melna turned to him and pulled him inside her house. “Come inside. Both of you.”

Once everyone was indoors, she bolted the door shut. Kid looked around the room. The first thing that struck him was the feeling of finished wood beneath his feet, an untold luxury in a place where most houses were cobbled from scrap. Claw marks covered the floor like the scrawling of a madman. Aside from that, the house seemed- comfortable. How he imagined the poorest of the inner city might live. Little was worth stealing but every creature comfort was provided for. Then he saw the altar at the far side of the room. Candles illuminated the rust-colored surface and the tapestry above it.

The tapestry depicted a woman dressed in black, her face cast in shadow, kneeling over one of the dark-scaled beasts. She rested a hand on its head as if petting a dog. Tall pines towered in the background. Kid blinked and almost cried out. He could have sworn the head moved up an inch, as if seeing who had entered.

Something licked his hand and Kid jumped. He looked down at the scaled thing. It was licking the blood on his hands. He pulled his hand away but it’s tongue extended from its small mouth, following him and lapping at the blood. Kid stared at the thing in bewilderment.

“Kryll. Off,” Melna commanded.

The beast snapped back it’s tongue and slammed to the ground, wrapping itself into an armor-plated ball. “Boy. Get on the table.”

Kid complied just as quickly. Walking to the dining table in the center of the room. He hesitated, looking at the pewter candlesticks and white tablecloth. Melna rushed around him and tore the cloth off the wooden surface, sending the candlesticks clattering to the ground. Kid stepped to the table, now aware of the old blood stains covering its surface. He winced as he used his abused hands to lever himself atop it and sat, feet dangling over the edge. The shirt on his back was growing sticky with blood.

His eyes darted to Lissa while the old woman dug around in a large trunk. She sat next to the Keeper, her arms wrapped around the head peeking out from its armored shell. They both stared at him, Lissa with a look of worry, the creature with one of curiosity.

Melna walked to him holding a pair of shears and a small wooden box. Kid flinched away from her but eased when she started cutting at the fabric of his jacket and shirt. He thought to protest but the cloth was ruined beyond repair after the day he’d had. Kid sighed. Besides, taking the damned thing off seemed an arduous task with his pulsing arm.

She cut the fabric from his back and down each arm. pain exploded in his shoulder as she peeled the fabric from him. He gasped ragged breaths. The divines must truly hate him.

“Mhhhhhmm. The bleeding isn’t bad. He just nicked you, clipped your wing so to speak. But yer shoulder blade is wrenched out of place.” Her lips twisted into a frown. “Lie facedown.”

Kid complied, shuddering as his cheek pressed against a dark stain in the wood.

“Lissa hold his arm up like this.” Melna gently lifted his injured arm into the air. He gritted his teeth against the pain and felt Lissa’s small hands hold his arm up.

He felt Melna’s hands trace his shoulder. “Don’t worry boy, this won’t hurt a bit.”

“Rea-” Kid screamed. He heard a pop and blacked out.

***

Images raced past his eyes faster than he could register as warmth suffused his mind. The ports of Bleakridge, ships in the distance. The streets he grew up on, bodies hiding beneath their surface. Kryll licking the blood on his hands. The images froze as he looked up at the flaming boughs of the tree he and Lissa planted. The heat warmed his face despite the frigid chill. A hand squeezed his. He turned, looking into Lissa’s eyes, their orbs as black as night and devoid of all feeling. A cut ran along her cheek, oozing blood. As their eyes locked, the dark in her eyes grew larger as if he were being pulled closer. The darkness enveloped him. He frantically looked around. All was dark.

“Kid.”

He whirled about to see his mother standing behind him. Her gaunt cheeks and gnarled hands standing at odds with her golden irises and the finery she wore. She grinned a yellow toothed smile, that was almost- motherly. He tensed as she approached and took him into her arms.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Kid broke.

A hand shook his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open and he gasped for air, a world of pain washing over him once more. He fought to control his breathing and wiped at his tears with the back of his hand. He caught a spark of pink light dancing over his arm and blinked in wonder. He noticed that he was wiping with his injured arm and stared at the limb. It ached as if he had only strained it. Kid brushed a hand along his shoulder to find it perfectly formed. Rough scar tissue was the only evidence he had been cut.

Kid yelped as Lissa tackled him into a hug, almost knocking him from his perch on the table. He grabbed her and held her tight, his breath still heavy. After a long moment, he released her. He looked into her brown eyes and a shiver ran down his spine.

His gaze shifted to Melna. The old woman looked drained, leaning heavily against the table, her breath almost as ragged as his own. “What hap-” he hesitated. “Thank you.”

The old woman smiled. Kryll padded across the floor to her and nuzzled at her hip with his head. Melna stroked the smooth plates of his forehead. The creature trilled in pleasure while Melna pulled out a chair and fell into it. “You’re welcome boy. I’m Melna.”

“I’m Kid.” He paused. “Ma’am.”

Her skin was pale and stretched thin across her bones, crinkling like parchment when she moved. She was by far the oldest woman he had ever seen, and Kid couldn’t help but wonder what was holding her bones together.

The woman’s eyes shifted to Lissa as she shot a strange look at the tapestry above the shrine. “What brings you here girl? Company or protection?”

“Company,” Lissa said with a smile. “I wanted to show Kid Kryll. It didn’t go quite as planned. Thank you for helping us.”

Kid looked at the thing, it leaned backward and used its thick tail as a makeshift chair. Kid shook his head in bewilderment. It might’ve been the strangest thing he’d ever seen. Melna waved a hand dismissively. “Men hunting down children in the streets. The world really is going to hell. Think nothing of it.”

She shook her head and turned to Kid. “I have some of my son’s old clothes stashed away upstairs. I’ll get you a fresh shirt and pair of pants.” She wrinkled her nose. “And maybe we can burn yours later.”

Kid clenched his hands into fists, noticing that they were still shaking. “Ah- yes. Thank you.”

The old woman rose to her feet and walked to the stairs. Lissa hopped to her side and took her by the arm. Melna smiled at the girl. “Thank you, dear.” Kid watched a moment as they ascended the creaky staircase, then turned his gaze to Kryll who stared back at him with beady black eyes.

The Keeper shifted its stare towards the tapestry on the wall. Kid followed its gaze to the woman in black. Her lips were twisted in a cruel smile. Kid swung his legs over the edge of the table and hopped to the ground. He walked toward the altar, feeling as if she were watching him. A warm glow fell across his skin as he neared the burning candles. He took in a deep breath and placed a raw hand on the rusty surface of the altar. The fresh blood on his hands began to move, flowing into the wood like a sponge. Kid jerked his hand away in terror, glancing nervously up at the woman in black.

He scanned the surface of the altar. Offerings lay scattered across it. The bones of small animals, interspersed with copper bears and even the occasional silver lion. Kid felt tempted to pocket a few but Kryll stared at him like a guard dog. The thing still made him uncomfortable and he fought to ignore its searching eyes.

He was about to put some distance between himself and the altar when the glint of gold caught his eye. He couldn’t help himself. He took a step closer. Careful not to touch the surface of the altar, he brushed away some small bones to reveal the twisted golden thorns of a small brooch. He grasped it with two fingers and lifted it into the air. Kid winced as one of the thorns pricked his finger. A drop of blood fell from his hand and disappeared into the altar. Kid frowned after it. Divines, this place gave him the chills.

“Careful with that boy. It’s sharp.”

Kid jumped, fumbling with the brooch and pricking himself a dozen more times. He cursed, cradling the gold in his palm. He turned his head to see Melna walking down the stairs, led by Lissa, a bundle of clothes in her hands.

“Sorry,” Kid mumbled. He lowered the brooch back onto the table, shuddering as the blood on its spines flowed into the altar. He backed a step away while Melna laid the clothes out on the dining table.

“That was my husband’s Briar. From before the war. Never got his body back. Just the Briar.”

Lissa raced over to the altar and looked down at the trinket. “Your husband was a Briar Guard?”

Melna nodded as she hobbled over to the trunk she had retrieved the shears from. “Yes.” She raised her hand, revealing a gold band around her ring finger. “Now all I have left are his two promises.” She looked to the brooch on the altar. “For some men, duty is the most important thing in the world. He gave his life to prove it.”

She grabbed a small box from the trunk and as she turned, her lips twisted. Kid couldn’t tell whether she was trying to smile or frown. “The Earl brought it to me himself, nigh on twenty-one years ago. Put it right into the hand of my son. Little shit has been trying to follow in his father’s footsteps ever since.”

Kid pulled on the fresh sweater while she opened the box. It was much too big and draped down to his knees. He pushed the sleeves back around his wrists, staring at his mangled hands as he did. Whatever she had done to his shoulder, she hadn’t given his hands the same treatment. The makeshift bandages were filthy and stained with blood.

“When I touched the Altar it-”

“It took your offering. That’s what it’s supposed to do.”

Kid blinked. “My what?”

“Did you plan on using the blood it took?”

“No, but-”

“These are lean days for the Reaper, most places like this were torn down after the war. There is power in blood and our lady is starving.” Kid looked to the tapestry, wondering at the paleness of the woman’s skin. “If you didn’t want her to take it then you should have made your intent clear.”

Lissa walked over to the altar. She eyed the brooch then pricked her finger on one of the thorns. She watched as a drop of blood fell and disappeared into the altar. The second drop splashed against its surface. Kid waited for it to sink in, but it didn’t.

“You’re a natural girl.”

Lissa smiled, looking up to Melna with wide eyes.

Melna tapped Kid on the shoulder. “Hands.”

Kid turned to her, seeing fresh bandages and a jar of ointment on the table. He placed his hands on the wood and Melna began to treat them, unwrapping the fouled rags, spreading the ointment and applying fresh bandages. While she worked, Lissa continued to play with the altar. Kryll nuzzled up to her waist and watched the drops of blood with interest.

As Melna finished wrapping the first hand, a knock sounded at the door. Melna started to move to answer but Lissa raced past her. “Let me,” she said in passing.

Kid watched Kryll follow close on her heels, his armored plates bristling. Lissa undid the latch and cracked the door open. She peeked through and slammed It shut. She turned back to them with an annoyed look on her face as she walked away from the door.

A voice came from outside. “Lissa? What the hell? Melna! Open the door!”

It was Marc. Melna sighed. “It’s unlocked ye lummox.”

Kid stared as the door cracked open and Marc strode in. Through the doorway, Kid could see a dozen heavily armed Sons behind him. Marc, himself was draped in heavy steel chain, it’s links glittering in the candlelight. Marc raised an eyebrow when he saw Kid. “Boy, you’re like the southern pox. Always in my business and I can’t seem to get rid of you.”

Melna scrunched her nose. “Tell me you’re not actually here because of that.”

Marc shook his head. “What’s my niece doing here?” He turned to Lissa. “You should be at home. It’s not safe outside.”

“They came to my door chased by men looking for blood. Your men if my memory serves. They get the picture.”

Marc paled, and rushed to Lissa. “Are you okay?”

Lissa scrunched her face and backed away from him. Marc halted, a hurt look across his face. He nodded and turned back to Melna. “I want names.”

“No.”

Marc closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Kid. Names.”

“Carver and Ghram. I don’t know the other-” Kid yelped as Melna smacked his unbandaged hand.

“Lil shit,” she muttered. “What do you want Marc?”

Marc walked to the table and took a seat next to the old woman. “I need your help.”

“You’re beyond my help.”

He narrowed his eyes while she finished bandaging Kid’s other hand. Marc’s visage softened, and he looked down at the table. “I’m not asking you. I’m begging. Please.”

That got Melna’s attention. Her eyes shifted from her work to regard Marc. The man continued. “I need you to give me the Lady’s blessing.”

“Piss right the hell off.”

Marc reached out and took her by the hand. “Melna, please. If the Sons start to fracture under me the Outwalls will erupt into chaos. Mine won’t be the only family to die.”

Kid fought the urge to wring his hands. What the hell was happening? He’d never seen Marc like this.

“I need to make a statement and strike a blow so great that nobody will be able to question my place. A show of your support and the strength the ritual will give me is the first step. I need this Melna.”

Melna met his stare. “Have you ever considered that maybe leading is not your place.”

Marc leaned forward. “Never for a moment.” He lowered his voice. “You and I both know what’s at stake. It’s bigger than you, me or even the Rills.”

That piqued Kid’s interest but Marc didn’t elaborate.

Melna glanced over her shoulder at Lissa. Weariness washed over her face. “Why does this fall to us?”

“Because southerners lack the mettle.”

Melna didn’t respond. Marc rose to his feet and walked to the altar. Kid watched him draw a steel dagger and run the blade across his palm. He pressed his palm flat against the altar and looked up at the woman in black. the reddish hue of the altar pulsed like the beating of a heart. Marc’s brow furrowed and the muscles in his neck went taut.

Then, as quickly as it started, the pulsing ended. Marc drew away his hand and let his shoulders slump. His breathing was heavy and he looked almost as pale as the woman in the tapestry. “Do you think it makes a difference?”

Melna tied off the bandage on Kid’s hand. “A drop of rain in the driest of oceans.”