Surrounded by a group of friends and her sister, Siv found the courage to sneak through the dark streets just inside the inner wall. Strange, humanlike shapes moved in the shadows, but she’d seen them often enough before. They frightened her still, but this day she needed to be brave. Alvarn, the tall, chubby friend of Vidar, carried a heavy pack of metal plates, panting and sweating hard.

  Erik and Sven were covered in runes strapped over their clothes with leather thongs. Runes crafted by her. To think she could make such beautiful things. Usually a klutz with the needle and thread, runes were more to her liking. The lines spoke to her, sang her name, like this was what she was meant to do. Even now, skulking along the wall to reach the tower, Siv was excited to draw the necessary runes into the heavy arrows she was carrying. With Vidar missing and Alvarn busy, it would fall to her, and she’d make her teacher proud no matter what. Vidar had given her a world without the terror of thieving, and she did not mean to let him down.

  Ida was at the front of their group, in charge, the natural place for her sister. To think they’d become so different, the two of them. Siv brushed the tips of her fingers along the scars on her neck but pushed away the memories that threatened to bubble up to the surface. This was not the time for it.

  Their sneaking was not a silent affair. The three boys were useless at it with Alvarn’s huffing and puffing and the clanking and clumsy footfalls from Erik and Sven. Siv glanced at Erik and couldn’t help but smile.

  “Ready?” Ida whispered from the front. She’d reached the ladder. From here, there would be no more sneaking.

  In the distance, up the long slope to the keep, the dragon roared and fought against what must be hundreds of men and women. Soldiers were burned alive. Each time it made its fiery attacks, the brief light extended the shadows of the houses and made the figures longer, almost to the point of reaching the group.

  If one touched Siv, would she be pulled away, like the children spoke of in hushed whispers?

  “Siv!” Ida hissed.

  Siv blinked and looked at her sister before signing, “I’m ready. Scared, but ready.”

  Having Ida with them was a blessing. Only she knew enough sign language to keep up. Vidar was making progress and Erik, bless his heart, was trying his best.

  “I’ll protect you,” Ida signed back, with a grin that made her right eye twinkle. Not so similar looking anymore, after what they’d been through these last few years. Their personalities always were different. Now, their appearances reflected that.

  They rearranged their positions. Erik and Sven followed Ida, as they’d previously decided. Together, the three slowly made their ascent up the ladder on the inside of the wall, right next to the slightly raised tower. Their goal was right in front of them, and only a few soldiers stood in their way.

  A brief yelp sounded from up above, but then, only silence. Siv climbed and Alvarn followed close behind.

  “I’m going to drink so much Vidar starts sweating the coins it’ll cost him,” Alvarn grumbled.

  Siv wanted to ask him what he was talking about, but the two of them had no way of communicating. Not without pen and paper. The writing she was teaching herself was perhaps an even greater freedom than the runes. A way to reach the world around her that did not devolve into a guessing game of nods and head shakes from her side.

  She crested the top of the wall and found Erik reaching down a hand to her. Siv clasped it and allowed him to pull her up, blushing a little at how easily he managed it.

  “We did it,” Erik whispered, nodding to the two guards on the ground.

  Their arms and legs were tied and their eyes were wide with fright, but they looked otherwise unharmed. Good. Unnecessary suffering was just that, unnecessary.

  There it was. The reason they’d come all this way for Vidar’s plan. The ballista. It stood on a small, raised platform crafted from wood. Without wheels, there was no real way of moving it, or at least there hadn’t been.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Alvarn nervously glanced up at the raging battle between the soldiers and the dragon in the distance.

  He wet his lips. “It’s so far.”

  “I’ll make it. Just do your thing, scribe,” Ida said, forgetting to keep her voice low.

  No alarm had been rung, no shouts sounded. Maybe, just maybe, they’d managed to take the ballista unseen. If so, this might just work.

  Sven was pointing toward the keep now. Everyone turned to look.

  “It’s coming,” Alvarn said. “It’s bloody coming.”

  “By the angels,” Sven whispered.

  Ida showed Alvarn toward the ballista. “Do it! Hurry!”

  The dragon had taken to the air, its shrieks bellowing over the rooftops and the sound of its flapping winds reaching their ears even at this great distance. It bellowed again as it veered away from the keep, and this time fire followed as it hurtled through the air, burning whole streets of the upper city.

  Siv stood there, frozen, until she heard someone call her name. It was Alvarn, now working the rune scribes’ guild’s contraption onto the underside of the ballista. He looked up at her. “Siv! Algiz!”

  Her eyes widened. How could she have forgotten? She slapped one down right next to the ladder, then added them all along the parapet and on top of the tower with the ballista. Vidar had said they didn’t last long against the dragon’s fire, so they’d brought a whole lot of them.

  Having emptied both pouches she carried, Siv kicked snow in all directions to clear a small space for her to work.

  “The tools,” she gestured to Ida, who punched Sven’s arm.

  “Get her the tools, you dummy!”

  “Ouch!” he yelped, but then hurried over to spread out the thick blanket they’d brought.

  Siv placed the arrows on top of it, working as fast as her cold fingers allowed. The styrka rune was new to her, but these were the most important lines she’d ever paint in her entire life. Biting her lip, she finished the first runic symbol and got started on the second.

  “Here it comes!” Alvarn shouted.

  Ida, Erik, and Sven hid behind the low stone wall, throwing themselves down near the ground. Only Siv and Alvarn continued their work. Unsure of how many styrka runes to craft, she just kept going as the dragon approached.

  The entirety of Siv’s peripheral vision turned into yellow, orange, and red flames. Incredible warmth consumed the tower, and she found herself screaming the pathetic garbled noise that was all she’d ever been able to manage. Moisture forced itself from her skin from the life-ending heat, but it was brief. Temporary. Just as soon as it enveloped the entire tower, it died away.

  A translucent shimmer persisted around the area for a breath longer. Then that, too, disappeared. The dragon’s shriek almost sounded disappointed as it passed over them, close enough to see the individual scales on its belly. Arrows clung to its thick hide, hanging precariously and near falling.

  “The troops hurt it!” Sven shouted, pointing up.

  “It’s running!” Erik added.

  Siv returned to her work after allowing herself that brief glimpse, and she saw Alvarn doing the same. The algiz runes would not hold for another such attack. Next time, the fire would consume them all.

  Ida pointed out toward the sea a moment later. “It’s coming back!”

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Erik asked, his voice full of angst.

  Having finished the second arrow, adding a touch of her own, Siv stood with dread in her chest, thinking she’d see that dragon swoop in for another attack at their little tower. Fire raged all across the streets below. They would not reach up to them, but Siv understood Erik’s fear. As long as the flames consumed everything below, no one would be able to come to their aid, and they would not have the means to leave.

  Again, she wondered where Vidar had gone. Then she poked her sister’s side to get her attention.

  “Ow!” Ida yelled, turning from the dragon as it once again landed by the keep, at the front this time, lashing with its massive tail and claws.

  Siv pointed to the arrows and Ida nodded after flicking Siv’s nose in retaliation.

  “Alvarn! Almost ready? The dragon could leave at any moment!”

  “Or kill everyone in Halmstadt!” Sven added.

  “Ready to trigger!” Alvarn shouted back, sweat pouring down his face. His glasses were misted and his face red with exertion.

  Siv and Sven got into position at the front of the ballista, while Alvarn would be in charge of the two at the back, where Ida waited at the firing position.

  Erik placed the finished arrow in the slot and began cranking the ballista to arm it.

  “Trigger!” Alvarn bellowed.

  Siv triggered the stakra rune in her corner.

  The ballista tilted precariously as three of the four runes triggered with the agreed-upon slow release of force.

  “It’s not working,” Sven muttered, his sweat-soaked hair plastered against his head.

  Siv hurried over and placed a gentle hand on Sven’s. He glanced over at her, winced in frustration, then sighed and removed his hand from the rune. Siv triggered the last rune, allowing the ballista to hover above.

  Ida grabbed hold, her eyes wide and her mouth open in delight as she aimed the whole ballista like a giant crossbow, turning it around to face the keep.

  “It’s up to you now, sister,” Siv signed, before leaning over to trigger the kenaz rune she’d added to the head of the arrow.

  “Better hurry before the stakra runes run out!” Alvarn shouted. He was standing by the parapet looking into the city below, down at the sea of fire separating them from the keep and everything else around them.

  Ida took aim, tilting the ballista so the arrow pointed up to a ridiculous degree.

  Then she fired.