Jack tugged Myrtle along, eager to improve the distance between them and the two knights who’d spotted them.

  “I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” she complained, but didn’t object otherwise. “My spot is just another dozen paces. Here, let me lead. You’ll run right past it.”

  She strode ahead of Jack and pulled him into a thin crevice no wider than Jack’s torso if he turned sideways. At her silent prodding, Jack shuffled deeper and deeper into the thin crack between two buildings, one of which had long since collapsed onto the other.

  “Over here! I saw them come this way!” one of the Red Knights shouted.

  “I’m not blind, you oversized idiot. What way did they go after they made it here?” a female voice demanded haughtily.

  There was a pause.

  “It’s not nice, you commenting on my weight like that. And does it imply that there’s a preferably sized idiot?” the male voice asked in a hurt tone.

  “Oh, bleed and boil me, I’m not dealing with your antics right now, Sathem. Did you, or did you not see where they went from here?” the woman asked pitilessly.

  Another pause.

  Jack continued to slide sideways deeper and deeper into the crevasse with Myrtle, doing his best not to make any noise even while he listened to their pursuer’s conversation. A thin strip of exposed brick clipped the back of his heel, and he bit back a curse. He closed his eyes, grimaced, and rested his forehead on the wall directly in front of him.

  Apparently, magical worlds filled with knights and orcs didn’t get everything right, or the blinding agony of hurting your feet might’ve been addressed.

  Her touch softer than the breeze, Myrtle placed a single hand on Jack’s arm. When he met her gaze, he saw something that might’ve passed for concern flash there. He gave her a silent nod, which was all the explanation he was willing to give due to the circumstances.

  “I didn’t see them, no… Sorry, Lori,” Sathem admitted.

  Lori sighed. “Let’s go, then.”

  Myrtle tugged harder on his tunic, and Jack slid the final distance to a small clearing entirely hidden by the nearby buildings. In it were only two notable features. There was a thin reed of a tree growing out of the cobblestone, and a teardrop-shaped hole in the wall. Jack crouched and examined the hole. It was dark in the tunnel, but he could barely make out the green of tall grass swimming in daylight just on the other side.

  “Here we are,” Myrtle said with a triumphant grin. “The best way out of Titanhold without getting all mixed up with Thistlebrush security.” She gave him a wry smile. “Come on by any time to get the answer to the rest of your questions. Didn’t quite manage to answer your second one, so we’ll just have to sit down for tea when people aren’t actively looking to shank us for our good looks.”

  Jack laughed. “Thank you, Myrtle. Truly. Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without–”

  His appreciation was cut off by the sound of footsteps on the roof overhead. He crouched low, ready to lash out at a moment’s notice.

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Jack,” Myrtle teased with a dismissive wave. “Runts and bonepickers like yourself sleep up on the roofs all the time. Shades, you saw all those poor sops following Rigs. It’s seriously not a big–”

  Metal tore from old hinges, and light spilled into the small clearing. Both of them looked up to see a round face blemished by a patchy blonde beard.

  “Found ‘em, Lori! Told you I would!” Sathem’s voice declared, and Jack felt a knot begin to form in the base of his gut.

  “Go!” Myrtle hissed through her teeth. “I’ll take care of these two. Go!”

  “Take care of us?” Lori cooed from somewhere on the roof right before she fell all four stories and onto the rocky earth beside them.

  A plume of dust blossomed in her wake. She was illuminated by the fresh sunlight above, looking like an angel of war as she stood directly between Myrtle and Jack. Her armor was sleek and looked built for mobility over tanking a bunch of damage. Now that she was closer, Jack noticed that it was not heavily plated like Derrick’s or made of leather like Barnaby’s. Lori’s gear was composed almost entirely of interlocking scales set in a diamond cast. They glinted and glittered in the fresh sunlight.

  The biggest components of her getup, however, were her gauntlets. They were massive structures that completely encased her arms to the elbows. And each hand was slightly curved in the shape of a claw, with each of her fingers ending in a serrated tip that looked more suited for maiming than murdering.

  She smiled at Jack’s gaze, likely assuming he was noticing something other than the mechanical composition of her gear.

  “Ardent must be smiling on me today!” Lori commented with a mocking nod to each of them. “I knew I’d get promoted when I handed Derrick the runt who got his whole squad killed.” Lori shivered with anticipation as she licked her lips. “But catching the infamous spider herself? I’m going to make captain for this.”

  To Jack’s surprise, Myrtle only smiled dryly at the looming knight between them, and she cocked one hip.

  “Lori, was it?” Myrtle clarified with a no-nonsense tone that he hadn’t heard her use before. “You really don’t want to be doin’ this.”

  Lori turned to face her. “Oh, but I really, really, do. You’re going to be what gets me out of this hellhole. And if I recall, the bounty on your head was dead or alive. I think I know which one I prefer.”

  “You know how I got that funny little name you bleeders gave me?” Myrtle asked conversationally. She lifted one hand and examined her fingernails.

  “You strung up Red Knights in our damned headquarters, is what I heard!” Sathem offered from above.

  “SHUT UP!” Lori bellowed at the man, causing him to wince back out of view. She rolled her neck and attempted to return to her intimidating posture, but they’d seen through the mask now.

  Jack forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to relax even as he readied for her to pounce.

  “Your little arm-candy up there is correct. I strung them up after they got a bit too friendly with one of my girls,” Myrtle confirmed, twisting her wrist so that her fingernails caught the sunlight. She met Lori’s eyes, and the woman took an involuntary step back. “But did you ever hear how many?”

  The mask slipped again, this time exposing just how thin Lori’s bravado really was. Jack didn’t need to know her to recognize the fear that was beginning to boil up there.

  “Care to find out how I did it?” Titanhold’s spider inquired.

  Myrtle blurred.

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  One moment, she was standing there with her back bent and rags pulled carefully over her thin form. The next, she was a dozen feet in the air, rags falling away to reveal tightly wound linen across her body. Jack watched in awe as she shot down like a meteor with the same incredible speed she just displayed, a thin dagger pressed into each palm.

  Lori screamed, the sound defiant yet rimmed with terror. Jack could just barely see the thin wires propelling and repelling Myrtle forward. She yelled and twisted, torpedoing downward with impossible force. The knight raised her clawed gauntlets to block, but Myrtle flipped at the last possible moment, slamming her own bare feet past the woman’s guard and directly onto her shoulders.

  “Like this,” Myrtle said instructively.

  There was a faint whining sound, and Lori shot skyward in the same moment Myrtle jumped off her shoulders.

  She made a pulley! Jack noted with no small amount of respect.

  To counter that much weight given to Lori’s armor, Myrtle had to have several compensatory gears or fulcrums hidden somewhere! It was incredible engineering, and he could only spot a fraction of what was going on.

  “Sathem?!” Lori screamed as she rocketed back up the four stories to the skylight above. Her spine crashed into the tin roofing, knocking the wind out of her in an audible gasp.

  “Sathem?!” she moaned.

  Someone on the roof began to scramble across the tin toward Lori’s location.

  “Best we make ourselves scarce,” Myrtle whispered to Jack.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Jack responded, shaking his head in wonder at the suspended Lori. “I can’t believe you managed to move that much weight with barely more than a tug. Seriously, you’ve got to tell me your recipe for that wire.”

  Myrtle opened her mouth to respond, but never got the chance. There was a meaty THWACK, and his guide took a single, staggering step forward. Blood started to drip from one corner of her lips.

  She looked down at the same horrifying instant Jack did.

  A harpoon fit for spearing a dragon was embedded in the center of her chest. W

  Above, Sathem held a crossbow that was nearly the size of one of the ballistae Jack had spotted earlier. With a jerk of his arms, she flew up several feet into the sky. Lori cursed, and Jack spotted her using her serrated claws to free herself from Myrtle’s wire. She fell to the ground, looking more frustrated than wounded.

  Above them, Myrtle hung suspended by a silver cord connecting the projectile to its wielder.

  She slumped, swinging slightly as her blood dripped first on the stone and then across Lori’s armor and face. The knight didn’t seem to notice.

  “Should’ve…” Myrtle groaned even as the life drained from her.

  Jack was speechless. It had all happened in the span of three seconds or less.

  “Should’ve what, spider?” Lori inquired without a care in the world, watching the old woman die with a bemused expression.

  Jack saw the thin smile etch itself across Myrtle’s face. He barely knew her, but even he could see the malice, the resignation, and the fire that burned beneath that single expression as she locked eyes with her murderer.

  “...Aimed higher.”

  At Myrtle’s words, she threw the daggers that had nearly fallen out of her grip.

  In an instant, both weapons were encased in a thin green film, and they moved with the speed of bullets. One cleanly sliced through the bowstring of Sathem’s weapon, which whipped around to slice a deep red mark across the man’s face. But it missed the harpoon’s cord by less than an inch.

  He dropped the massive crossbow, and the cord it was connected to made Myrtle fall an extra few feet. She jolted to a stop for the second time in as many seconds as the weapon caught on the lip of the roof. It had to be excruciating, but Jack’s guide didn’t seem to notice.

  Too busy was she with her vengeance.

  The second blade, thrown at the same moment as the first, did considerably more damage. It blurred green through the air separating Myrtle and Lori, and sank deep in the knight’s collarbone. She screamed and rocked back, but Jack kicked at her, putting every ounce of strength he had into the strike. It was like kicking a telephone pole, but he managed to move her a few feet forward…

  Right into Myrtle’s waiting grip.

  The old woman grasped the hilt of her own knife, ripped it out of the knight’s flesh, and sank it into her neck. Lori sputtered and clung onto Myrtle’s frail body, pulling her down further and further along the harpoon’s shaft. Both women gasped as life escaped them. Lori fell to the ground while Myrtle swung limp in the trap that had killed her.

  “You… You killed her!” Sathem whimpered from overhead, taking Jack out of his shock. The whimper soon morphed into an unrecognizable scream of rage. “AGGGHHHHH!!”

  Above, Sathem slammed both of his meaty hands against the lip of the roof he was on. There was a deep rumble that shook the building, the wall, and then the ground beneath Jack’s feet.

  It started with a single root.

  One root shot out of the cobblestone and punctured straight through Jack’s bare right foot. He yelled in pain and tried to take a step back, but his impaled foot made the move clumsy. Then a second root shot forward, this one aimed at his left thigh. He twisted back, worsening the wound on his right foot, but turning the second impalement into a deep cut that extended from his knee to his hip on his left leg.

  More roots started to emerge from the ground as Sathem continued to sob and scream above him.

  “Die!” Sathem screamed. “Die, die, die, die, DIE!!!”

  Jack steeled his nerves, planted his left foot on the shifting stones, and yanked his right foot up and off the root. His vision turned red, and he saw a galaxy of stars float and fly around his eyes.

  He needed to get out of there. Stumbling once, he avoided another lance of wood, this one aimed at his chest. It was only then that he realized Sathem was controlling the sapling that grew in this small clearing, pumping it with life even as he destroyed its chances of surviving this encounter.

  For some reason, the graffiti message came to mind as he stepped over Lori’s corpse and made his way to the tunnel.

  Ardent, burn the bleeders.

  Seeing Myrtle’s limp body where it hung, he finally understood how the Red Knights got their nickname. They didn’t care who or what bled. That was all they were good for. Draining the life out of things. They bled the orcs. They bled him. Now they bled poor Myrtle, and God knew who else.

  And for what? What was so valuable to them that made life so worthless?

  Jack could feel an old anger he thought had died out get rekindled in that moment, and he honestly couldn’t say which he hated more—the Red Knights for what they’d done, or for reviving this all-consuming hatred inside of him.

  With a final glance at Sathem, Jack dove arms-first into the tunnel. His back and chest were immediately scraped by the jagged edges of its entrance, but compared to his foot and leg, he barely felt them. He crawled like his life depended on it, feeling Sathem’s control over the roots ebb behind him.

  He made it over a dozen feet down the long and narrow hole when a root-like iron grabbed at his bad ankle. He cried out, trying to kick its grip off with his good foot, but it was useless. He was being pulled back.

  “GOT YOU!” Sathem’s voice echoed from behind him.

  “NO!” Jack yelled, kicking harder.

  The root jerked backward, and his chin clipped a sharp protruding rock. His vision turned white for a breath. Still getting pulled backward, his fingers grazed that very rock.

  Not like this.

  He gripped the sharp stone with both hands, putting every ounce of rage, strength, and desperation into his arms. The root pulled back harder, but he held on.

  “Let go so I can kill you, runt!” Sathem called out to him.

  He ignored it, putting all of his focus on holding to that rock. Sweat formed on his palms. Then his fingers. A scream, fierce and primal, started to bubble up his throat. His chest felt strangely hot.

  The root yanked one final time, and he let his scream out even as he felt something in his right ankle snap.

  He did not let go.

  The root broke off, and all the tension in his body turned into an awkward push forward. He didn’t wait.

  He couldn’t.

  Jack knew that if he stopped now, he would pass out, and Sathem would find him. He crawled forward with his arms, his right leg dragging uselessly behind him while his left wasn’t much better off.

  It took a small eternity to reach the light at the other side of the tunnel. By the time he did, his vision was going black around the edges. He couldn’t muster the strength to care for the steep hill that the tunnel spat him out of. Jack rolled down it, accruing even more bruises across his already broken body.

  Groaning, he tried to get up, tried to stand and walk away from this accursed town, but Jack simply couldn’t manage it. He lay there in the tall grass as the sun beat down on him.

  Come on! he thought even as the darkness started to swallow his vision whole. Not like this! Please, God. I don’t want to die like this. Please.

  Please.

  Please…

  Not like this.

  Jack’s vision went black.

  What do you think is going to happen to Jack?!