To disguise that they were carrying a tied up human girl, Timur and the traitors had put Frances in a sack. Since Timur was disguised as a burly servant, he could easily carry the sack containing Frances.

He tried to carry Frances in what he hoped was comfortable. She didn’t seem to make any noise. Then again, the traitors—which is to say, Selena—had threatened to hurt Frances if she made a noise.

Timur’s solution to get out of Conthwaite castle, which was locked down, was a dangerous, but in his view, intelligent one. The castle had two sally ports, doors in the fortifications that would allow defenders to come out and harass enemy besiegers. They were guarded and exposed to view from the walls of the fortress.

However, Timur knew that everybody was focused on looking into the castle grounds, not looking outward. They just needed to knock out the guards.

The sally port they chose was the northern sally port. It overlooked a craggy path that snaked down from the hill Conthwaite Castle stood on and to the meeting point. Inside the castle, it was located in a remote corner of one of the castle's courtyards, isolated from the rest of the castle. There were two guards by it.

Timur took out the guards quickly by using two words of power that smashed them into the wall and knocked them down. They were so stunned that Claudia, Russell, Selena and Renfrey had a lot of time to rush the pair and tie them up. After pocketing the key to the sally port, they left, leaving the two guards on the outside.

As an extra precaution, Timur cast a heating spell that melted the lock and rendered the sally port completely inoperable.

“Next?” Renfrey asked.

Timur put the sack where Frances was in down and started to undo it. “We get down the path. No torches, though. So I’ll have to untie the blasted mage’s legs.”

Russell frowned. “She might escape.”

“We’ll make a rope tie around her waist then. If she tries to escape, she’ll fall to her death. I can see the path. She, and you all can’t. You need to follow me.” He unearthed Frances’s head and glanced at her. “Do you understand me, mage?”

Frances nodded and the humans quickly pulled the sack off her and undid her ankle bindings. Once they tied another rope around her waist, the group was off.

Although Timur could see the path as well as it was day, he picked his steps carefully and didn’t rush, often pausing to see how Frances and the other humans were doing. The path was almost like a goat’s track, littered with rocks that pressed up against boots, with one side constantly faced with sharp half-eroded stone.

The darkness didn’t help. As they picked their way down the trail, one of the humans would lose their footing and slip on occasion, and they all had staves for both balance and defence.

With her hands tied behind her back, Frances fell several times. Only a quick grab or tug of the rope around her waist would keep her head from slamming into the ground.

Timur had to mutter curses to play his part, but he felt they were getting less convincing. He was honest to Galena, the Alavari’s god, terrified of her hurting herself, and of the possibility of their escape going to hell. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, rattling his nerves, making him watch every edge in the dark with fear that she might slip.

He had no idea how Frances wasn’t just doing more than occasionally whimper or gasp. At least, he had no idea until he had to catch her by her arm one time when a rock shifted under her feet and she nearly went right over the edge.

That was when he realized that she was drenched with cold sweat, and trembling. She was horrified, which reassured him, and also drove that dagger of shame he felt deeper into his stomach.

The party heard the alarm bells ringing sometime after that fall.

“Shit,” Claudia muttered.

“Don’t worry. We’re almost there,” said Timur. He could see the flat ground at the bottom of the slope and the orchard that was their destination. It was an apple orchard, and since it was fall, he could hear his boots crunching leaves as he stepped to the last part of the path.

And just like that, they were off the trail and in the orchard and their rendezvous point. Timur could even see the horses too, tied to the trees and saddled for a long ride.

“Ignis! We are here, where are you?” Timur yelled.

There was no reply. Timur suddenly felt his tail stiffen and his ears stiffen. Something was wrong. Where was his troll—

Two glinting objects flew out from the trees. He followed them to see them smash against the narrow path they’d just gone down and burst into familiar red-orangey flames. Vials of Crownfire. They would go out soon without much to burn on the rock, but until then they couldn’t escape back up. The orchard was now bathed with a strange crimson glow.

The Alavari prince had already turned his attention back to the direction the fire had been thrown from to see two figures charge at them. One had a shield and was unnaturally fast. She leapt at Timur, hammer raised.

The prince didn’t have time to take his wand out. He had to cry out a word of power to throw his attacker backward into a tree. The effort made him wince as he felt the drain on his reserves.

To his shock, his attacker hit the tree with a cry, but instead of sliding down unconscious, leapt back to her feet and charged again, forcing Timur to draw the sword he’d borrowed from the Conthwaite armoury.

The other, an armoured knight, from the way fire glinted off of him, was going after Renfrey. The man blocked his sword with a staff, but the knight drove a gauntleted fist into the man’s face, knocking him down. He was immediately beset however by Claudia and Russell, who came at him from two sides, beating at him with their staves.

“Let her go now!” screamed the female. Her hammer scythed toward Timur. The angel forced the trogre to let go of the rope around Frances’s waist and parry the blow. Only his skill and agility let him deflect the constant flurry of hammer strikes.

“Martin, get Frances out of here!” screamed the girl, who had to be Elizabeth. The knight had to be Martin. Timur grimaced, this was bad, but maybe it was for the best. Ignis was either dead or wounded, but Frances was safe. If he could extricate himself from this situation without hurting Frances’s friends, everything would be fine—

“All of you drop your weapons or I’ll slit her throat!”

Everybody froe and Timur spun to see Selena, one arm around Frances’s shoulder, the other holding a knife to her throat.

Timur forced himself not to grimace and instead smiled. “Well done Selena—”

“You drop your weapons too, Timur.” The maid’s voice had dropped to a raspy growl. “I know you care about this mage.”

The prince felt his breath catch in his throat, and the sword in his hand drop limply to the ground. The maid’s lips were twisted up in a nasty leer. The edge of her knife was touching the side of Frances’s neck.

“Timur what are you— Oh damn, you were trying to leave her with us,” Elizabeth stammered.

The trogre nodded, glancing at Claudia and Russell, who were staring at their friend in shock.

“Selena, what are you doing. We have a deal. Unless you don’t want to escape to Alavaria?” Timur asked.

Selena snorted. “You, an Alavari prince, care for this mage. We can’t trust you.”

“I beat her up! Besides she is our only ticket out of here! Are you crazy—”

And that was when Selena drove the knife into Frances’s thigh and gave it a twist.

The worst part for Frances was that she expected something like this to happen, and so all her senses were honed in on the pain she was going to feel. Only, nothing could prepare her for how cold the steel felt as it entered her thigh. Neither could anything prepare for the agony that rattled up her leg as Selena’s knife churned her flesh.

Frances felt her eyes flare wide and her muffled, unrecognizable scream filled the night air. Timur lunged toward them, but the knife, now bloody, was suddenly up against her cheek again.

“You care about her.” The maid glided what was now the knife’s wet and warm edge against Frances’s face. “If you really hated her you’d have hit her face and broken her nose. Yet the only bruise I see is the one you gave her when you fought. You must not have recognized her.”

Frances shivered even as she lamented her misstep. Of course, she should have asked Timur to give her a bruise. She just didn’t think to do so because her own parents had been so careful not to show marks on her face.

Now Timur, a desperate, panicked look on his features was stammering, “Look yes, I have a deal with her but that doesn’t affect us! We can’t take her with us anyway so I thought we should just keep her for a bit then leave her! Remember, she’s Edana Firehand’s dearest student. Do you really want to enrage Lady Skinmelter more than you already have?”

“He’s right.” The woman that Frances recalled was Claudia said, looking increasingly horrified by Selena’s actions. “Look Selena, we need this. We need to get out. We can’t escape the war in the Human Kingdoms, especially soldiers like Russell and I. Only in Alavaria we might stand a chance of leaving it all behind us.”

Frances held her breath as her captor frowned. She could barely stand. Her leg was throbbing with pain, and there was a growing wetness trickling down her right leg. She knew that it was her own blood flowing out of her.

But Selena was in no rush. She frowned and relaxed the knife against Frances’s neck almost casually. There was nothing casual to the gesture for Frances, though. She could see the mad light in the woman’s eyes.

Everybody waited with bated breath.

“Oh, we will. Just one more thing.” Selene pointed to Martin. “You, Otherworlder girl, kill my dear former lord.”

Timur blinked. “We have no time for this we need to leave—”

“You’re not calling the shots anymore, Fae-kin.” Selena sneered at Elizabeth. “Kill Martin, girl. Or I will kill your friend.”

Frances shook her head on instinct and for her trouble, got the knife pressed further into her cheek. She could feel the edge cutting the skin and she froze once more. All she wanted to do was to scream and fight this madwoman.

But if she did… she was going to die, and she knew what that meant.

As Elizabeth blinked back tears, Martin swallowed. “If I am going to die, I want to know why. Did I offend you in some way?” he demanded.

Selena laughed, a harsh, grating laugh that shook even her own comrades.

“Your mothers sent my son and daughter into battle under your sister, Maria’s, command. Your sister got them killed. I think it’s only reasonable that they pay for that with your death. That I get to stick it to some prissy Otherworlders just makes it better.”

“It was you… you leaked the plan to the orcs. You almost got us all killed!” Elizabeth glared at Selena. “We are trying to defend your homes and you repay us like this?”

Selena snorted. “It was a joint effort, but yes, we got the plans to Alavaria. And you, Otherworders, defend our homes? How can you defend our homes when you have nothing to lose. When you have no attachment to Durannon? And what do we have to give up so you defend our homes? Our food, our iron, our animals and our lives!”

Frances sniffled as the knife began to cut into her cheek, slicing open skin. She had to do something. Elizabeth was going to be forced to make an impossible choice.

“This war will take and take and take until those prissy nobles just work it out! At least Alavaria is offering us an out from this war,” Selena hissed. “Now do it!”

Frances watched Elizabeth tremble, staring at Martin. Her friends were looking at each other, poleaxed by the situation they were in.

She had to do something. Her hands were loose enough, but the knife was at her neck. She could die if she tried to escape, and if she died, she’d return home, back to her parents.

Only, that didn’t seem to be so scary to her. Frances was horrified by the prospect, but the option didn’t seem to paralyze her. She wondered why. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t want to be hit by her parents or see them ever again. So why… why did she dread her friend dying more than seeing her parents?

Because you know what you deserve, what you need. You know you deserve good things. You know you deserved nothing of what your parents did to you. They may scare you, but you can fight that fear and win.

As the answer hit Frances, she made her decision

Across from Frances, Timur frowned as he noticed his friend’s eyes widen in what seemed like some kind of epiphany. He was confused as to why she seemed to brace herself, however, but chalked it up to the pain she felt in her leg.

Martin suspected something different. He could tell that Frances was going to make a move, but he wasn’t sure what she could do. He thought she saw some weakness in their enemy and was getting ready to exploit it, or send him a signal.

Elizabeth saw her friend’s eyes widen too. She also noticed Frances tense her shoulders. Unlike the boys, however, she instantly realized what her friend was going to do.

“Frances, no!” she screamed.

It was too late. Frances slipped the loosened ties at her wrists and grabbed Selena’s knife arm, stepping backward into her. The pair fell over, grappling with one another, Selena shrieking like a banshee, Frances crying out a note to try to keep the knife away from her.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Martin raced for Russell, blocking the hit from a stave with his armoured arms, he tackled the man to the ground. Elizabeth easily dodged Claudia’s wild swing and began to wrestle for control of her staff.

Timur, having finally remembered that he’d loosened Frances’s ropes, only had eyes for Frances as she and Selena rolled over. Even as he raced toward the pair, though, he saw Selena flip his exhausted and battered friend over, and straddle her. Frances raised her arms in a defensive block and cried out, trying to force Selena away from her with her magic.

She managed to throw the woman away, but not before the knife colored red by the still glowing Crownfire, plunged her in the chest.

Then the traitorous maid hit the ground. But she quickly sprang up, charging. Timur froze, wondering whether to get to Frances or attack Selena.

Elizabeth sprinted by Timur, and in a textbook sweep, took Selena’s legs from out under her, before slamming the staff on her head for good measure. The maid crumpled, knocked out cold.

Timur spared the madwoman only a glance before racing to Frances’s side.

Blood was already pooling underneath her body. It poured out from her thigh, from the deep wound in her chest that soaked her cream white dress, and from a cut along the side of her throat. He hadn’t seen that. It looked like it had happened when Frances initially tried to break out from Selena’s grasp. He immediately pressed his hands against the neck wound trying to staunch the blood that bubbled up.

“Oh no, nononono. Elizabeth! Martin! Help!” he bellowed.

Elizabeth was by his side in an instant. Martin, who was tying up Russell, was a hair slower, but not far behind. They immediately pressed their hands against the wounds.

“Magic. Timur! You know healing spells don’t you?” Martin demanded, his tone shrill.

The trogre shook his head. “Yes, but I’m almost flat out. I can’t… it’s so deep! I’ll try—”

“Wait!” Elizabeth with bloody hands whipped out a wand from her belt. “Use Frances’s wand, it’s a Named Wand. I’ll hold her neck.” She pressed her shaking hands against the wound. “Oh, God. Frances, why?” she cried.

“It’s alright… I… I’ll see you soon at school. I’ll find you.” Frances didn’t want to cry, but it hurt too much. She couldn’t remember feeling so weak before, but she fought it. There was too much on her mind. “I… I’m only a little scared. Please, tell Edana I love her. She’s the mother I never knew I could have, and that I’m sorry.” Frances hiccuped, she felt so weak, like she wanted to just fall asleep. “Timur, I’m sorry. I hope you find someone to help you. Martin, don’t f-f-feel bad…”

“No! You aren’t going back to your parents!” Timur grabbed Ivy’s Sting, yelled out several phrases and touched Frances’s neck. Sensing its beloved master was close to death, the wand was all too eager to lend its power and Timur found it incredibly easy to cast his healing spell.

The stab wound started to knit together, but slowly, and the cut on the side of the neck slower still. Timur swallowed and drew everything he had, every last bit of magic and thrust it into the dying mage.

“Come on! Don’t give up! You can’t!” Martin begged. The knight was crying now, tears pouring down his cheeks

Frances sniffled. “Please don’t cry. I…I was so happy in Durannon—”

“And you’re going to be fine damnit!” Elizabeth screamed. Frances blinked as Elizabeth took her hands off of the now-vanished stab wound she’d been trying to cover with her bloody hands. She felt her friend touch her neck with a wet hand. The wound on her neck was also gone. “Oh God, you’re going to be fine,” she wheezed and sat back.

Frances blinked again, suddenly feeling… oddly alert and while exhausted, not so sleepy.

Timur stood up groggily, Martin steadying him.

“I… I sealed the bleeding. She needs to see a doctor immediately, but… Galena that was too close.”

Frances blinked again and tried to lever herself up, but Elizabeth immediately pushed her back on the ground. “You stay quiet. Timur, you need to get out of here.”

The trogre stared at Elizabeth but handed Ivy’s Sting back to the Otherworlder. “You’re… letting me go?”

Martin nodded. He briefly considered demanding Timur to stay, but a quick glance at Frances and he decided to get her help was far more important than getting into another fight. The knight pointed to the orchard. “You saved her life and you never wanted this to happen. The traitors stay, but your troll, Ignis, he’s just over there. We just knocked him out. Take two horses and get away before Edana arrives. I doubt she’ll be as merciful.”

“I doubt it too.” Timur levered himself off of Martin and smiled. “To an actually peaceful meeting next time?”

“I’m not betting on it,” muttered Martin, but he shook the prince’s hand. Elizabeth just gave the trogre a nod.

“Timur, thank you,” Frances rasped.

The Alavari prince managed an exhausted and relieved smile, with none of his usual cockiness.

“Until next time then, my lady.”

Frances felt her cheeks flush, and Timur quickly averted his eyes before turning around. Soon he was jogging into the night, leaving the trio of friends surrounded by unconscious or groaning traitors.