Climbing through the trap door, Ellis found Ameena hunched in the corner of the barn breathing hard, her hands holding a pitchfork that stuck out of her belly. Bodies littered the floor around her, most having slit throats or deep wounds in their sides or faces, except one of them was cleaved in half.

  Ellis ran over to Ameena and as he rounded the hay pile obstructing his sight, he spotted Michael. There were only three men left alive, and he was beating one of them to death with the antpisser Ellis had come face to face with the first time he had exited the trapdoor.

  He slid across the floor towards her, his crossbow aimed at the men focusing on Michael as he came to a stop next to Ameena. “What do you need!?”

  “Water,” she coughed, even Ellis’s ears having a hard time picking up what she was saying.

  He fished the canteen out of the bag on his back, dripping it into her mouth as a man flew over Ellis’s head. Michael’s voice followed not long after.

  “Ellis! We need to have a long discussion when I’m done here!”

  Trying not to feel like a dead man, Ellis ignored Michael, and focused on Ameena.

  “I’m going to pull it out!” he said, looking at her for permission.

  She nodded, so he grabbed hold of the pitch fork, put a foot on her belly and yanked with all his might. It came loose with a schlop sound, Ameena hissing through the pain. It started bleeding more, but with the amount of blue piling in her hands and drifting over the wound, Ellis knew she would live. He threw the pitchfork at one of the men who was still somehow alive, and noticed he was a farmer. He was crying, a look of resignation and fury on his face that captivated Ellis like a sunset as the pitchfork skewered his foot in place.

  Ellis dragged his gaze away, and looked at the dead men. Most had different hair colours, were of different sizes, one of them even looked more rabbit than man, his skin covered in fur… but three of the men were spitting images of that farmer.

  The pitchfork was the moment Michael needed to capitalize, cleaving the farmer's head off his body with a final swing of his sword.

  The head sailed through the air, bounced once off the floor and came to a stop at Ellis’s feet. He stared at its eyes as they lost their light, took a deep gulp and looked upward at the pair of feet stomping toward him. Michael loomed over Ellis without any of the usual humour to be found in his expression.

  Michael kicked the head away, then bent over until their noses were almost touching. “Where did that girl go, Ellis?”

  “I don’t know!” Ellis said, telling his rehearsed lie as he took a step away from the man. “I was knocked ou—”

  The slap made Ellis’s jaw quake, and his freshly broken nose screamed in pain as he fell to the floor. Michael grabbed him by the collar and hauled Ellis back to his feet before the world had stopped shaking. And then in the exact same tone, he said, “Where did that girl go, Ellis? Don’t make me ask a third time.”

  “I seriously don’t know!” Ellis tried, bringing his hands up. “She knocked me out before I could do anything! Look at my face! I wouldn’t willingly have this as a makeover!”

  He kept looking at Ellis. Not moving, not breathing, not blinking. Just a dead stare, like he would see his soul if he kept waiting.

  “Michael, Listen to me! Look at my neck, the only reason I’m alive is because I activated the ring before she could—”

  Michael did not, in fact, listen to him. He turned around, Ellis’s shirt still bundled in his hands and looked toward the other side of the barn. It had a staircase leading up to a loft with some stored farm equipment and more hay ready to be of use.

  Many of the pens that kept the antpissers lay below this loft, and the animals were all making this awful mewing sound, their eyes wide and as they stared at the one Michael had used to bash a man’s skull in.

  That’s where Michael threw him. Ellis flew through the air like an arrow, crashing against the stairs leading to the loft, bouncing off to hit one of the animals below, and then landing on his hands and knees in the middle of their muck. His ribs started screaming as Ellis tried to get his breath back, but no matter how hard he tried just couldn’t get the air in. He had two mana left, and he pushed half that silence into his ring, in the hopes it would save him.

  But the moment the mana left his chest, Michael was on him, hauling him back up as he tried to defend himself, prying at the iron grip that was now around his throat. This proved to be a mistake, because Michael slapped him for the effort, two of Ellis’s teeth coming loose from the blow that filled his mouth with blood despite the ring’s mitigation of damage.

  Ellis was still reeling from the slap, but Michael gave him no respite. He threw Ellis through the loft floor above their heads, the wooden boards not even an obstacle as he crashed through them, his back smacking into the barn’s ceiling. He hung in midair for a moment, like the momentum was confused as to where to take him before he fell, landing with a thud next to the new hole in the floor. Michael was climbing through it a moment later.

  He dusted himself off before throwing Ellis’s crossbow at his side. Ellis hadn’t even realized he had lost it in that scuffle.

  Then Michael leaned over Ellis, who was staring at the ceiling while coughing up the blood in his mouth.

  “I don’t know if I need someone who can lose a fight to a girl, if I’m honest. So Ellis, put your hands up, and let’s see if you're worth keeping in my party.”

  Ellis still couldn’t breathe, but now that pain subsided and the adrenaline kicked in. He knew he couldn’t win. But he couldn’t afford to lose. Or not to prove himself useful.

  So he nodded, spitting out the blood as he rolled onto his hands and knees. Michael took a step back, rolling his shoulders as he sheathed his sword. Ellis capitalized on the moment, reaching forward and grabbing the loose crossbow, before swinging it under his arm and pouring the last of his mana into the weapon with a grunt, letting all the bolts loose right into Michael’s chest.

  Michael stuck his hand in the way, many tearing into his arm with repeated thuds, but the rest flew right past his defense and buried themselves into his stomach and chest.

  He didn’t even flinch.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “That was almost fine, Ellis.” He nodded in slight admiration. “Why couldn’t you do that to a little girl?”

  Ellis staggered to his feet before he ditched the crossbow. Michael would never let him reload it in time. He tore the knife from its scabbard, then flew at Michael with a snarl. Michael caught him by the throat, wearing that same expressionless face as he watched Ellis thrash in his hands.

  But he had made a mistake. Ellis’s hands were free, and he thrust the knife towards Michael’s eye with a shrill cry.

  ~break~

  The floor beneath Ameena was hard, digging into her back with the soft hay she thought would have cushioned her as lay on the floor, unable to sit up. The wound in her stomach was like an aching cancer, painful and unyielding. She was healing herself, but the pain of it only seemed to make her feel worse.

  She groaned with every slight movement. The farmer had been lucky, stabbing her despite her numerous illusions, which made her groan more. That mistake had almost cost her her life, and if Michael had been a second late it would have.

  Ameena had tried to shout at Michael when he was standing over Ellis, but her voice had barely come out as a whisper. She assumed Michael’s temper would subside, and Ellis’s slick tongue would get him out of the man’s temper tantrum…

  But then Michael had attacked him. Slapped and thrown the boy about, a loud crash following soon after. Michael should stop in a relatively short order. When he came down, she would have to smooth over his temper before admonishing the man for attacking Ellis.

  One of the farmhands had gotten away, and Ellis was the only one who could track them down. Every moment Michael continued his temper tantrum would delay Ellis from finding him before he alerted the city guard to their location.

  She shook her head and winced at the pain. The only reason they were in this mess was because of that stupid girl. Ameena cursed under her breath, annoyed she felt grateful to Ellis for saving her. Then cursed herself for her role in letting that girl trick them. She should have said something sooner when she realized the girl wasn’t heading in the direction of the palace, but she had decided to give Vanya the benefit of the doubt just because she was a mana user. It was stupid.

  And worse than that? It was soft. The boy must have been rubbing off on her.

  A shrill cry snapped her attention away from her thoughts. The sounds of fighting continued, but she could hear Ellis’s voice grunting and snarling. Every time that sound rose into the air, a deep thud would follow, reverberating around the entire barn.

  She had healed herself enough, so she sat up in time to see Ellis fall into the doorway of the loft above, his face a bloodied mess, his eyes rolling in his head before a hand grabbed his foot and dragged him out of her view.

  No… this is wrong…

  Ameena tried to stand, but the pain was too much. She spent even more of her diminished mana, trying to get this stupid wound to close as the thuds continued, every single one making her shiver.

  He was doing as he was told…

  She saw one of the walls cave in as she finally managed to stand. Michael’s voice floated down the stairs. “Ellis, you can’t be unconscious already. That’s why that girl beat you.”

  She didn’t beat him… he despised her… yet saved her anyway…

  Ameena stumbled to the stairs as a scream echoed through the barn, like a dying animal being ripped in half. She could hear awful snapping sounds, like twigs being broken. Every step she took made that scream grow louder, and the sound of snapping twigs became more numerous.

  Please…

  The scream turned to sobs. The sobs turned to begging. The begging stopped altogether right as she reached the last step.

  “Do not touch him!” Ameena roared, finally stepping into the loft.

  Ellis lay flat on his back with Michael straddling him. One of his knees sat on Ellis’s bicep, keeping the arm locked to the floor. Michael’s arm was full of bolts, and blood covered his fist, which was frozen in mid air.

  Michael turned back to her, a knife sticking out his eye. “What?”

  “I said, don’t touch him! We need him!” Ameena said, her eyes locked on Ellis’s broken face.

  His nose was almost flat into the back of his head, both eyes swelled up and closed, his breathing ragged and uneven, like he was drowning in his own blood.

  “Why would we need him? Even a little girl beat him,” Michael said with a shrug, turning back to Ellis.

  “He’s not here for his ability to fight Michael! You are! He gets us into places! And one of those men downstairs got away! You wouldn’t be able to track them now could you!?” she cried, stumbling forward to lean against the door frame, trying to ease the pain threatening to take her to her knees.

  “First of all, yes I could. Secondly, I was thinking about the last few days and we don’t really need him. He got us into the city, sure, and we couldn’t kill him because of that little stunt at the gate or whatever other bullshit reason you gave. But now we’re not in the city, are we? And the guards are after us anyway, so we don’t need to worry about whether they recognize him or not.”

  He waved his hand like it was a foregone conclusion. “And now he can’t even pass my little test. Honestly? The fact he’s lived this long is already a miracle. But it’s time that came to an end.”

  Ameena could only stand there and watch as he crashed his fist into Ellis’s broken face, her brain scrambling for a reason to keep him alive. Then she stopped.

  Why should she keep him alive?

  A thousand reasons flew through her mind before she had even finished the question. He was useful, he made the right calls in bad situations. He had gotten them far further than Michael ever had, he had saved her in that alley when they first entered the city, he actually listened to her and had smart alternatives rather than most of the brutes she had dealt with all her life…

  And… and he was good. Almost kind. He didn’t deserve this.

  She would not let him die.

  Ameena scrambled forward, grabbing Michael by the fist just as he raised it up from Ellis’s face once again, and used it to pull him off the boy.

  Michael was on his feet before she could blink, looming over her. She grabbed him by the shirt, tried not to hit the knife sticking out the man's eye, and stuck her lips on his, kissing him for all she was worth. Michael froze like he was struck by a lightning bolt. His lips tasted like bread, and his spit got into her mouth.

  She suppressed the shudder, let go of his shirt and looked up at him as he stared down at her with wide eyes.

  “I like the boy. Let’s keep him around. He has proven very useful.”

  Michael blinked, like he was unsure of what he heard. “Uhm… yeah… okay…”

  He scratched the back of his head, and turned back to Ellis, still laying on the floor.

  “Oi! Ellis! You still alive?”

  Ellis tried to reply, but his body racked with a deep cough, making him spit blood all over his face and neck. Then he raised his hand. Ameena realized it was the hand he used to shoot the crossbow with, since every finger was bent backward, the bones of every knuckle sticking out of his palm as he tried to give a thumbs up.

  Ameena took a step back, unable to process what the boy had just gone through. She took a step forward to throw herself at his side, to staunch the bleeding, but Michael’s gaze snapped back to her, and she stopped.

  “We need to get to the woods and hide there for the night. Michael, can you hunt down that one who got away? I’ll bring the boy there when he’s well enough to walk,” she ordered, hoping he would go along with it.

  He didn’t move for a moment, but then his fingers grazed against his lips, and he smiled. He was out the door a minute later, bumping his head against the doorframe as he left. Ameena threw herself onto her knees scraping them against the hard wooded loft floor, and used all her remaining mana on Ellis’s destroyed face.

  Both his eyes were swelling up from the bruising. She met one just before his eyelids closed.

  “You cannot die, Ellis.”

  He coughed, his voice a pained whisper. “I’ll… I’ll try my best not to.”