“God fucking damnit,” Priscilla said, squeezing the horse with her thighs and urging it to move faster. She leaned onto the stirrups to keep her weight balanced over the horse’s center of gravity because the last thing she needed was to fall from the saddle.

  The horse thundered down the slope, with Sulaiman hot on her heels.

  “Do you see any smoke coming from the forest?” Priscilla asked even as she searched for signs herself. The bandits were supposed to attack after nightfall, but she didn’t want to blindly trust Kavil’s hesitant recount of the night, not when she could see potential evidence to the contrary in front of her eyes.

  “No,” Sulaiman said, his horse racing to keep pace with hers. “Do you know a faster way there than following the river?”

  Priscilla wanted to bite her lip as she thought but forcibly kept her teeth clamped together, far too aware she’d likely just bite through her lip. Instead, Priscilla searched over the tops of the trees, searching for any sign of the village.

  The village had been described as a hidden gem, a self-sustaining and peaceful place where followers of the Earth Mother Gaelea lived in harmony with nature. Priscilla wished they were a little less mindful of the earth and left more of a noticeable impact.

  There was a small area where the trees were shorter than their surroundings, making a break in the treetops, and the bandit camp was close to that area. Priscilla traced her eyes over the river’s path – if it kept on its course, then it would travel right by the patch of trees.

  “This way,” Priscilla said, pulling on the reins and readjusting the horse's path. That was the last they spoke, pushing the horses harder than they had dared to before, afraid of exhausting the beasts before they arrived. But now was not the time for caution.

  Priscilla felt every impact of the horse’s hoofs against the ground, the pounding of her heartbeat so loud that it drowned out everything else. Adrenaline ran through her veins, slowing down her sense of time, as Priscilla had to face the possibility that her first struggle against the fate of the world could end in abject failure, that everyone would be dead by the end of the night and this forest would be nothing but ashes.

  And that mere possibility filled Priscilla with a bright hot rage.

  The bond between her and Asha was awash with that rage, Asha’s own emotions responding to Priscilla’s within a second. The artifact’s anger was cooler but no less intense, determination fueling it so it was like the inevitability of an iceberg caught on the currents to crush everything in its path.

  They cut the travel time to just thirty minutes, but every minute that passed was one that Priscilla hated they had to waste. The sun had continued its steady path down the horizon, the shadows that they cast growing longer and longer as dusk began to settle over the land.

  Priscilla was panting hard by the time they reached the edge of the forest. She had kept her gaze on where she suspected the village was, never looking away even as they drew closer. Priscilla gave her horse just a moment to catch its breath before she pushed it forward again.

  The forest was too dense to keep at a full gallop, so Priscilla reluctantly let the horse set the pace as it picked its way through the underbrush.

  “Move to the right,” Sulaiman said from behind her, “there’s an animal trail.”

  Priscilla followed his instruction and her horse moved a little faster over the pre-flattened ground. Luckily, the trail seemed to be headed in the right direction. She stayed silent as they traveled further into the forest, the canopy blocking out the remaining sunlight and it grew steadily darker.

  Priscilla let her eyes unfocus without looking away, trying to adjust to the low lighting as they steadily moved forward. But she pulled the horse to an abrupt stop when she saw movement ahead of them.

  “Sulaiman,” Priscilla hissed.

  “I see it.”

  Two hundred feet ahead of them, there was the distinct sight of torchlight. It was difficult to see it perfectly, but Priscilla spotted roughly a dozen people crouching with the distinctive shape of a bow in their hands. The torchlight moved to the first crouched figure and Priscilla realized they were in the process of setting their arrows alight.

  The light didn’t spill out far, but when Priscilla squinted, she could see several dark buildings across from where the archers were kneeling.

  “We don’t have time to pick them off one by one,” Sulaiman said in a low voice, “not if they’re about to fire. I’ll send a flame sphere with you to give you a better view of things. So ride fast, Priscilla, and break right through their formation. I’ll deal with what remains.”

  Priscilla nodded tightly, fumbling for the whistle around her neck. She placed it between her teeth and kicked her horse’s side, sending the beast sprinting forward.

  The archer’s heard Priscilla’s horse crashing through the underbrush, but they were too slow to react since the horse had picked up enough speed to easily clear their positions, one hoof hitting a man square in the head.

  A few arrows were released prematurely, veering wildly off target into the forest as Priscilla’s horse landed in front of them.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Who the fuck are–”

  Priscilla blew as hard as she could on the whistle.

  SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

  When she finished, there was an echoing silence in the forest as the bandits were momentarily stunned, staring at her.

  “WAKE THE FUCK UP,” Priscilla bellowed towards the houses she could now see, “BANDITS ARE ATTACKING.”

  A small sphere of flames burst into existence next to her and Priscilla took that as a signal to leave it to Sulaiman and spurred her horse further into the village, passing around a bend and searching for…

  There it was – Priscilla spotted the bell tower at the same time that the bandits hidden in the shadows spotted her. They were flanked along the edge of the woods, swords and bows drawn and aimed at the town. With her sudden appearance, Priscilla saw many of the bandits looking towards the bell tower for guidance.

  A large man with shaggy black hair stood beneath the structure, a long, tattered duster coat draped over his frame. A sword was strapped to his side but more pressing was the crossbow in his hand that was aimed right for her.

  Priscilla didn’t have time to dodge, but it turned out the bolt wasn’t aiming for her.

  Instead, it sunk deep into her horse’s chest, the beast’s legs crumpling beneath it as it let out a loud whinny of pain.

  “Shit,” Priscilla breathed before as her body was flung forward. But she just barely got her feet untangled from the stirrups so she didn’t get her legs pinned beneath the horse’s body as it collapsed to the ground.

  She hit the ground hard, a riot of pain radiating from her left shoulder, hip, and chest as she slid across the dirt. It was a little difficult to breathe but adrenaline helped Priscilla ignore it as she pushed herself to her knees to take stock of the situation, her ball of flame moving forward to give her a better view.

  “Got some pipsqueaks to deal with,” the man in the duster yelled to his men. “Fuck stealth and start pillaging! Whoever finds the treasure will get his pick of the loot!”

  “What if I want the treasure, boss?” a bandana clad bandit called while he lit a torch.

  The leader gave the man who spoke a nasty smile. “Try it and I’ll skin your hide.”

  The other bandits jeered the one who had spoken up before lighting their own torches or pulling out their swords, while the bandit leader settled in next to the tower.

  Priscilla didn’t have a chance at stopping all of the bandits before they got into the houses, but the bandit leader was just one man. Admittedly, a strong-looking one, but Priscilla hoped if she took him out, then the others may be lost without his leadership and struggle. She was only fifteen feet away from the bell tower and ten feet from the bandit leader himself.

  There were the sounds of fighting behind her where the archers were. Priscilla had to trust that Sulaiman had that handled and pushed herself to her feet.

  The movement drew the bandit’s leader’s gaze and he laughed when Priscilla drew herself up to her full height, balling her hands into fists. It hurt a little to do so with her left fist but Priscilla ignored it, keeping her gaze on the man with a crossbow.

  “This is what’s trying to stop us?” the bandit leader asked, his gaze mocking as he took her in as he reloaded his crossbow. “A suicidal girl?”

  “You got it in one,” Priscilla said conversationally, resting her hands near her side, near the weight that steadily pressed against her hip, “and this suicidal girl might even kick your ass.”

  The bandit leader paused at that, cocking his head.

  “Delusional as well,” he said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “You can tell your pathetic gods that Captain Azurin was the one to put you out of your misery.”

  Azurin pulled the trigger on his crossbow and that was exactly what Priscilla was waiting for. She threw her head to the side, the arrow sending red strands of hair falling through the air as Priscilla grasped the dagger at her side and flung it at Azurin with Asha’s aim adjustments.

  Then Priscilla sprinted as fast as she could right at Azurin.

  Azurin seemed to not expect the dagger throw and only just barely missed taking the dagger in the eye, leaving the man’s ear bloody as the dagger cut through it. But Azurin proved he did have decent reflexes, swinging his crossbow down like a mace at Priscilla before she got close enough for a clean hit.

  Priscilla pivoted at the last second, whispering, “Spike on,” as she slammed her right fist right into Azurin’s overextended arm. Spikes sprung forth from Asha on Priscilla’s knuckles and sunk into his bicep right above his elbow, tearing through the coat like butter.

  Priscilla tore her hand away from Azurin immediately, throwing herself backwards out of the range of his attempted backhand. The bloodied spikes slipped back into the glove and a chunk of flesh and leather hit the ground. Asha’s vicious satisfaction mingled with Priscilla’s but she didn’t let her guard down, not yet.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Azurin growled. He no longer looked mocking or arrogant, instead his eyes were hard as he looked her over again, this time assessing her as a threat rather than a nuisance. His right arms hung awkwardly at his side, his grip on the crossbow much looser than before. Priscilla hoped she had taken that arm completely out of commission, but she didn’t know if Azurin had any way to heal himself.

  “A suicidal girl,” Priscilla repeated, stepping further out of his reach and readjusting her footing in case he came for her again.

  Azurin let out an angry noise but Priscilla kept going. She had to keep his attention on her rather than let him wise up and do the smart thing to call his minions to surround Priscilla, and what better way to do so than doing what she did best – pissing people off.

  “And being suicidal sure as hell beats being a goddamn cowardly captain launching sneak attacks like you,” Priscilla taunted, eyes on Azurin for any sort of tensing of his muscles though it was difficult to tell with his coat, “especially when a coward’s skills only amount to so much. Tell me, are all bandit captain’s skills this shit or are you just special?”

  Azurin went completely still, his gaze focused on Priscilla. In the background, his men had reached the first house and were attempting to set it ablaze. It seemed that some of the villagers had woken up and were trying to fight back, but Priscilla couldn’t focus on them now, not when Azurin stood across from her with murderous intent.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing a bitch like you,” Azurin spat, tossing his crossbow on the ground as he pulled his sword free with his left hand. He held it steadily with no hints of uncomfortableness or awkwardness, which probably meant he was ambidextrous, damn.

  “I’ve been called far worse than a bitch before,” Priscilla said, trying to judge Azurin’s new reach with the sword while letting her mouth run on its own. “Can’t you use more original insults, or is your brain as small as your cock?”

  Azurin’s face went stormy just as the reassuring ball of flame Sulaiman sent with Priscilla flickered out of existence. Priscilla swallowed the panic building in her throat as she prayed that Sulaiman was still alive.