The arrow missed flesh only by inches; lodging in his sword sheath.

Instinct had Valerlanta roll behind stone ruins, and Venic moved with her. They both pressed their backs against the cold, crumbling wall and swore in unison.

Behind her, both shouts and the sounds of quickly approaching horses steadily grew louder.

How had Valerlanta not heard them until now? It was true she was not in her normal mind at the moment, but this was a fool’s mistake.

Pain was shooting up and down her leg in pulsating heat from the strain, and clouded her mind.

‘Blast. If we don’t act quick, we won’t get away.’

“Can’t you tell them to not kill us?” she asked.

“You know,” Venic snapped. “They did not seem to care about my wellbeing much when they nearly shot me.”

That was a valid point.

Pulling out a knife, Valerlanta used the foggy reflection to glimpse over the top of the wall. The platoon was not overly large — maybe twenty or thirty men — but that still left them grossly outnumbered.

“Its not Wylfaren,” she said. “They have Alecaven colors.”

Which certainly should not be. How could they both be tracking her and knowing the terrain so clearly? She had underestimated her opponent…or worse, overestimated herself yet again. The thought sent a pang of pain in her chest.

'You have got to be kidding me!” Venic screamed. “Am I cursed? That must be the case. Why can I not have a moment’s luck? I can’t even get a decent sleep without being attacked by —”

“Oh, please! Do you really think this is the right time for this?" Valerlanta strung her bow. "Stop complaining!”

“I will gladly oblige if you get us out of here! Use your magic!”

“I can’t risk that! You know why.”

If just one of them survived and told the king, that would be the end of her.

“Then what do we do?”

“Just give me a minute to think!” She snapped back.

Again, she looked into the foggy reflection. As she moved along the ranks of people nearing every second, just one of them caught her eye.

A person who dressed in earthy colors.

A rope of panic suddenly tightened around her torso; lurching hers stomach and restricting her breathing.

'No. It is just the dagger. It is not a clear image.'

Risking the danger, Valerlanta tilted her head over the top of the ruins. The answer to how they were tracking her was standing right there.

Those ropes of panic pulled her so deep into icy depths that her body froze with the cold and not a breath could escape her lungs.

The boys face was so swollen with bruises, she nearly did not recognize him. Both tattered clothes and hair looked weighed down by either mud or blood. His hands were bound behind him while one around his neck dragged him like a dog.

Dyleik.

‘The kids...— ’

The heist had gone wrong.

The call to adventure tempted her, and the kids faced the punishment.

Frantically, she searched the lines, but did not see the twins. Maybe they got away…or maybe…—

A hard yank pulled her back under cover as arrows clattered overhead.

“Are you tying to get an arrow in the face? Wasn’t one in the leg more than enough?”

“My fault,” she whispered.

“What?”

A pressing feeling squeezed her chest until all she could muster was brief gasps.

‘My fault. My fault. My fault.’

It took everything in her to not crumple.

Venic looked at her face, and dread sunk over his expression. “Sard. Just...don't move. I will try to think of something.”

They had maybe a few good seconds before the platoon realized the two had no backup, and that it was safe to surge forward.

The knights eyes scanned frantically around them for any scrap of a plan. As he did, Valerlanta reached a trembling hand to her quiver and grabbed an arrow.

‘I do not want to do this,’ her mind screamed out. ‘Please, something make it so I don’t have to do this.'

Venic grabbed her wrist.

“What are you doing?” he snapped. “We can’t fight them. There is too many!”

“I don’t intend to.”

With a whirl of movement, she pulled from his grasp and swept around the wall at a crouch. The arrow released.

The platoon raised shields and called out in alarm, but the arrow was never intended for them.

It hit Dyleik and his whole body lurched back. The youth crumpled on the ground and lay there, unmoving.

Beside him, still holding the rope, the leader’s eyes went wide and narrowed on to her with obvious rage. Jerstain of house Elfailden. Valerlanta did not have to know his face to recognize him.

The commander was a man of bulky muscles, a jutting chin, and a broad forehead. All combined, he was intimidating in size and appearance even before adding in his cold, deep-set eyes and many scars. Greying blond hair sat in a wavy mess on his head, and dark circles were under his eyes as if he had been up every night planning how to catch them.

Had he heard of her? Had he heard of the mask-wearing daughter of the guild-master?

It was a possibility.

So, despite her stomach tying knots, Valerlanta gave him a smile and a little wave and watched as the older mans face contorted with unbridled rage.

Then she was back behind the wall as arrows pelted where she had been.

“There!” Venic pointed to the rotted side of a wagon, barely holding together and partly stuck in the soil. There was no guarantee the wood would even lift from the ground, and there was certainly a high chance of the rotted wood being too soft to stop an arrow.

"This is a bad idea." Valerlanta told him, but she did not have a better one.

They exchanged nervous looks.

She nodded.

Venic rolled out into the open towards it. Soldiers cried out in alarm at sudden appearance. Swiftly he hoisted the wood from the ground; ripping up moss and dripping clumps of dirt and rotted wood.

The very moment he had lit lifted, arrows slammed into its surface and broke through the other side. Sharp points stopped inches from Venic’s flinching face, but went no further.

“Come on,” he screamed.

Valerlanta rushed forward and knelt behind him.

Both thief and spy stood behind a piece of rotted wood, facing a platoon of at least thirty trained and well-armed soldiers.

Venic edged backwards, towards the forest, and the platoon stalked persistently.

The arrows had stopped, and the sound of boots and hooves thundered.

Within the thorny tangles of a rose bush, the wood shield was snared. Venic yanked at it, but the bush held tightly, catching between the planks. Venic abandoned their cover in a great toss and ran. Swearing, Valerlanta followed.

Branches and thorns bit at their skin.

Her leg ached as the movement straining the stitches.

Suddenly, the ground gave out from under her.

The earth swept sideways, and gave her no time to react. Valerlanata and Venic fell with it.

The world spun as she tumbled down rocks and dirt, then slid to a stop at the bottom.

Valerlanta quickly sprang back to her feet, but Venic was not so lucky. He was blinking at the sky; the wind knocked out from him. Her bow lay near him.

Archers appeared on the cliff side.

Her gaze flickered to the forest — her escape — then back to Venic.

The enemy arrows loosed. They arched and fell towards them in a deadly rainfall.

The blood from her many fresh scrapes and wounds snaked into the palm of her hand and magic burned into a gale of wind.

The force knocked her backwards. Above, the arrows wildly off course. They clattered against the muddy in all directions; much to the confusion of the archers.

“Come on!” Valerlanta screamed at Venic as she yanked at his clothes. "I can barely carry myself, right now! I am not going to try and carry you!"

He staggered to his feet, his breath returning. She snatched her bow, and the running continued.

“This way,” Venic said, leading them into the thickest of the brush. ”The horses won’t reach us!'“

Branches bit at their skin, but even Valerlanta did not question the logic. They were in a tangled maze of branches and trunks so thick that Valerlanta couldn’t see more than a few paces ahead. They ducked, crawled, and wove through the maze as quick as they dared.

Curses shouted out behind them as people tried to follow on foot through the vast network.

Thief and knight stumbled out into a meadow but kept moving. They passed more brush, more trees, across a stream, then finally—

“Stop!” Venic wheezed.

Stop? No. She couldn't do that.

Gasping, limping horribly, and trembling head to toe, Valerlanta took a step. Then another.

They had to keep going. She had to keep moving.

Venic grabbed her. “Valerlanta, stop! We have to stop! You have to stop”

Valerlanta pulled out of his grasp, but fell on all fours.

Staring at the ground, the tears welled. Just as she feared, stopping allowed her emotions to catch up and they were threatening to smother her with their force.

Her bow was still clenched in her hand. The bow that she had used to —

Valerlanta had killed before, but never a kid. Never someone she knew. Never someone that was supposed to be her responsible to look after.

Dyleik had already given her up, and Valerlanta had to protect what secrets of the guild were left. She had to do it.

She had to.

I should have been there with him. I should have protected him.’

Instead, she had abandoned him and the twins for her own selfish drive for adventure.'

A sob threatened to escape but she forced it back down.

“Val?” A voice asked and a warm hand set softly on her shoulder.

“I killed their tracker,” she said with her back to him, hating the raw emotion leaking into her voice. “They should be slower to follow us now.”

“The tracker...was it someone you knew?” Venic said carefully, and when Valerlanta did not answer — could not answer — he received his answer. “I am sorry.”

And it sounded like he meant it. Looking back, she saw equal pain of a man who understood.

“I'll be alright,” she lied. “I just need a moment. Please...just give me a moment.”

He waited in respectful silence as she stood with the steadily growing voices telling her of her guilt.

‘Murderer,’ the voices told her. ‘Children died for your selfishness.’