Mom and Dad stare at me. This time, I don’t think they’re being dramatic as their eyes roam over me. My eyes, my hair, my shoulders—everything. They take in everything. Looking between them, I try to do the same. Dad’s scraggly beard and Mom’s barely pulled back hair. The scar on his forehead and each mole on her face.

  Thirteen people stand behind them. A mix of fear and determination linger on their faces as we huddle in the living room downstairs.

  “I love you,” Mom says. I lean down and press my forehead to hers. She pushes back and grabs my hands, eyes closed as she takes a shaky breath. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She takes a step back and Dad wraps his arms around me. “I’ll be with you.”

  “And we’ll be with you.” He gives me another tight squeeze before stepping back. “One more blessing before we go?”

  “Of course. Want to join me, Emilia?” She nods and I step back to her. Agnes and Tenley move to join the others. Agnes looks hesitant but stands still.

  We can’t sing to them like a real blessing would require, but we can dance for them all the same. A dance with priests of different gods is different than what I’m used to. Nkam’s dance is fast, meant for heat and sweat. Bir is different. Her dance takes space, moves slower. It focuses more on lighting up dark spaces with movement. Together we move. She orbits around me, our movements in synch as we begin to glow. Buttery yellow light radiates from me and crisp blues and purples pulse gently from Emilia.

  As we still, I watch as they perk up. Their eyes are brighter, and they stand a little straighter. It may not last as long as we need, but it’ll be a little something to help them through the trek.

  Mom and Dad look at me one last time, their backs straight and eyes are hardened. This will be the last time I see them.

  “Good luck, everyone. May Nkam and Bir find ways to watch over you,” Dad says.

  “One more thing,” I say. Elena is standing near my parents, fidgeting with her whips. For once she doesn’t look nervous. Her brown eyes meet mine and she stills. “Thank you,” I say. “For everything you’ve done for me and the people here. You’re exceptionally skilled and wickedly smart. It’s been a pleasure to know you.”

  She starts to tear up but wipes them away quickly. “I’m grateful to you, Yvanna. Peggy…she was mean to me, but I understand why now and I’m grateful for that, too. She wanted to keep you safe. Keep us safe.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I will see you again.”

  “Elena—”

  “I will see you again. In this life or the next.”

  I lean down and kiss her forehead. “In this life or the next.”

  <><><><><>

  In the month we waited for our opportunity, we trained. It wasn’t much, but it was better than simply sitting. We ran in place, did pull ups, pushups, sit it, squats—whatever we could think of to strengthen our bodies. Now, as we head to our positions across the village, our bodies move easily.

  Emilia and I take to the roofs as we get close to the Beast’s hiding spot. It’s easy to survey the land as we take the high ground. Agnes and Tenley weave through the houses, Agnes taking the far side. Their weapons are blessed, and we can only hope that it actually works.

  The smell is as choking as I remember, but our masks are secure as we wait. It’s quiet. There is no wind and the only sound is my breathing, my thundering heartbeat, and the gentle tapping that carries from Emilia at her watch point. Her foot taps the roof as we wait.

  It’s not long before the moaning starts. It’s low and rattles the windows along the wide street. The same street where I lost Peggy. I tense, readying my bow. We have ten arrows each and can’t afford to lose them.

  It comes from below. A metal disc on the ground shakes and rattles before it’s slowly lifted and moved to the side. Then it reveals itself. A hand, a shoulder, a head. With agonizing slowness, it pulls its bulk up and out. It scans the street, stopping at something to its right. Agnes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Emilia lets an arrow fly, and it hits the back of its head. The Beast stops its slow move forward and reaches back. It doesn’t seem particularly hurt, but it’s distracted. I let another fly as Agnes moves close. My arrow and her sword hit at the same time.

  She’s quick to back away as it screams. Her slash was too fast for it to take hold of her sword, and she backs away. I want to spare a glance behind me but maintain my composure. That was the signal for them to start leaving and if the Beast catches wind I know it’ll change its focus.

  It leans down on all four (no five—no six—no—) legs and twitches its head, white eyes shining in the dark. The two arrows pulse in its skin as it tries to push them out. One stays lodged while the other clatters to the ground.

  Agnes tenses, her knees bent and sword in position. She’s ready to run or fight but doesn’t have a chance to make the choice. Emilia and I fire at the same time, hitting one of its legs and its torso. It screeches, reeling in pain as it turns its eyes to us. Its eyes that seem to multiply every time I look at it. Half of them are fixed to me while the other half find Emilia across the roofs.

  Tenley emerges from the shadow of one of the houses. She doesn’t have a mask and didn’t ask for one. Her face is a veil of calm rage as she sneaks forward. Tenley didn’t use many weapons. Never liked the distance between her and her prey. Instead, she wore heavy leather gloves reinforced Valley Beast bones. The knuckles have four sharp spikes two inches long each. I had thought they’d been lost when I didn’t see her with them, but she produced them in almost perfect shape.

  She gets close. Close enough that if it were to notice her, it’d have no issue consuming her like it did with Peggy. Instead, she puts one leg forward and puts her weight into the punch that rockets through the Beasts bulk. It staggers to the side, almost falling over as Tenley dances backward into the shadows again.

  Agnes sweeps in as Emilia lets two arrows fly. It shuffles to one side, avoiding the arrows, but Agnes takes one of its antlers off. It falls to the ground with a soft, wet thump.

  It wastes no time on a scream, swiping Agnes with long claws. She holds her sword up to absorb the shock, but she’s blown away. She sails through the air, across the street and rolls on the grass of a garden. She’s still.

  The Beast begins to stalk forward. There’s no urgency to its movements. Despite the pain we’ve caused it, it doesn’t fully see us as a threat. Its neck begins to turn and click, and panic rises in my chest. Not again. Not now. I can’t have it take Agnes away from us.

  I run, jumping from roof to roof and keeping a wide berth as I start to fire. One, two, three arrows to the back. It stops, its back rippling and shifting. It’s trying to remove the arrows again, but they’re deeper now that I’ve moved closer.

  I blink and its neck snaps backward, white and green eyes pulsing. I close my eyes as it starts to take hold, Peggy’s voice surrounding me as I land. My knees shake and protest, but I keep moving, my eyes cast down as I try not to meet its gaze again.

  “You’re not at fault,” she says. I can’t see her, but her voice is clear in my head. “We both made the decision to fight. Stupid as it was.”

  “I know,” I say. My breath comes in quick as tears start to invade. I blink them away and nock my arrow. “I know it was both of our choices. It still feels like it’s my fault. I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

  “I made my choice, Yvie, and I stand by it.”

  The Beast shifts and I see its neck starts to move. Glancing up, it moves its head back again. Agnes is moving again, albeit slowly. Tenley is nearby. She just needs an opening to grab her and get away.

  I jump again, ignoring the way my chest tightens as I realize it’s the same house I where watched Peggy die. I pull the arrow with all the strength I have. I land hard, but I don’t land on my feet. Something under my feet slips and I fall back, my arrow whiffing and sailing up to the sky. My head cracks against the roof, tiles splitting under my skull. My vision goes double, and it can’t be more than a few seconds before my vision clears, but it feels like an eternity.

  Emilia is close by, a few houses away, saying something. Her voice is muffled behind Peggy’s insistent whispers. “Look up, Yvie. Look.”

  My eyes wander up, blurring in and out of focus. My arrow is above us, but it’s not falling. It stays lodged in something I can’t see. The barrier keeping us in perpetual night.

  “…the arrows.” I finally hear Emilia as she drops down to the street and out of sight. She’s going to retrieve whatever arrows she can.

  “Do you know what I said before I died?” Peggy asks as I stagger to my feet. Her voice is quieter now. Further away. Its power is fading. “You must have figured it out by now.”

  Ahead of us, the Beast is squeezing itself into an alley. Agnes and Tenley are out of sight. I’m unsteady on my feet but take a breath and narrow my eyes. I just need its attention for long enough that they’ll get some distance between them and the Beast.

  I know exactly what she said. As I sat at the table and replayed her death a million times in my head I looked at her mouth moving in silence again and again. “Live,” I answer, expelling a breath. “You asked me to live.”

  Something warm hits my shoulder as I release the arrow, and it explodes from my fingers. Faster and stronger than I thought possible, the arrow pierces into and through the Beast. A harsh, burnt smell radiates from the Beast like charred rotted meat as it screams. It doesn’t sound far away this time. It feels like two swords scraping against each other in my ears.

  A hole the size of my fist rests in the Beasts chest. It’s still screaming, but it sounds less like rage and more like a wounded animal.

  On my shoulder, a tiny spot of sunlight rests. I look up again. My arrow has fallen to the ground and left the tiniest hole in the barrier. It’s not much—barely a pinprick—but it’s there. Nkam is there.

  “Yes,” Peggy says. Her voice is further now, almost gone. “Live, Yvie. Live.”