It seemed like I sat in the back of the wagon for an hour before anything changed, holding a folded blanket to my chest, watching Nadine on the seat for any sign that something was wrong, and willing my hands to stop shaking. We were well past the last outpost when, as we'd come to expect, Mara was the one who spoke up.

  "So. That wasn't suspicious at all," she said over the crunching of hooves and wheels through the snow.

  Nadine looked at her in poorly feigned surprise. "Hm? Oh, they did not seem all that bad to me. Just a few crusaders stuck in the snow. I wouldn't worry about it."

  Mara snorted. "Nice try. I'm sure you two have got a really good reason to be hiding from templars and paladins, but if it's going to impact this trip, maybe you should let us know now."

  I stuck my head out of the wagon beside Nadine, where I could see her face. "Not all paladins and crusaders. I borrowed a book from someone in that camp. One of his favorites. And I may have left it inside the cursed zone of Valoria."

  Mara raised a brow at me, willing more of the story to pour out, but I only returned her gaze and held firm. Nadine did not.

  "Her betrothed is back there. She's hiding from him."

  "Oh, ho, ho!" Mara reveled in the drama. "That makes more sense than a missing book."

  "It's a really good book!" I shot back, slumping back to my seat in the wagon.

  "A terrible book. Shameful, even," Nadine said. "And it's better off where you left it."

  Mara laughed, "So, a lovers quarrel?"

  "It's complicated," Nadine answered.

  "Let me guess," Mara said slowly. "You two knew each other… Maybe you were best friends growing up, but you never suspected your parents would pair the two of you for marriage. He had demands. You had life plans of your own. There was a fight, and now, the two of you are on the run, out here to escape fate?"

  "No," I said flatly. "And it wasn't a fight. I bit him."

  "Mirella!" Nadine shouted in surprise, her outburst oddly muffled by the falling snow.

  Mara let out a bark of laughter. "Now this is getting good."

  I sighed, "I healed him after. He's fine, but he's probably upset about it."

  "Probably upset?" Tomas asked. "Shouldn't you know? You were there with him."

  "Not really," I answered. "I didn't stop to ask. I went out the window afterward."

  Tomas laughed, and Mara choked out, "I knew you two were going to be fun."

  I sat my blanket aside, held my hood low, and climbed up on the bench beside Nadine. We were well past any concern now, after all.

  Roderick cleared his throat. “Jests aside, it would have been good to know there was unfinished business behind us before we left. If this is something that could follow us, we should be prepared.”

  He glanced between Nadine and me. “Anything else we ought to know? Better to say it now than when steel’s already out.”

  Nadine answered him, but I didn't quite hear the words. My attention was dragged away by something else. It was a cord pulled taut. The rest of the world suddenly seeming less important, and my eyes drifted to the road behind us of their own accord. I had no idea what I was feeling, not at first, but the creeping dread clawing at my heart told me it was important.

  "Mirela?" Nadine asked, her hand on my shoulder drawing me back. "What is it?"

  I looked behind us one more time, then to her. "Something is wrong."

  She waited patiently for me to go on. I focused on the feeling, intangible as it was. A sense that grew more urgent even in the few seconds it took me to understand where it was coming from. I knew that my attention was being pulled back the way we'd come, but only when I focused on that inner flame, the divine power that fueled me as the Saint, did I find the source.

  It constricted almost painfully, a warning growing more desperate in a way that almost felt like grief. And that's when I understood.

  "I… have to go," I said slowly. "I think something happened to Laurent… or is about to."

  "What are you talking about?" Nadine asked. She glanced behind us, seeing only the blowing white. "I don't see anything."

  Instead of answering her, I turned to our escort.

  "You three seem to be opposed to the heretic faction. Tell me plainly. What is your stance on the bounties for the Hero and Saint?"

  I felt Nadine go still beside me, and for a moment, there was confused silence. Then, Tomas spoke.

  “The bounties are heretic nonsense. Political theater,” He shrugged. “The Hero’s a symbol they can’t control. The Saint’s worse. Makes people believe in things they’d rather tax or burn. We don’t hunt either.”

  Mara snorted. "Tax or burn, indeed. Anyone offering coin for a Saint isn’t someone we'd take coin from.”

  I looked to Roderick. He didn't say anything, only nodded at their words.

  That had to be enough. I felt the building dread, and I needed to go.

  "Keep going," I said. "I will catch up."

  I jumped down from the bench and walked clear to give myself space, but rather than listening to what I said, they all came to a stop, beginning with Nadine pulling the wagon up short. Even Altivo came to stand nearby.

  "Mirela, he can take care of himself. What are you doing?"

  I shook my head. "No, Nadine, I don't think he can. Just trust me." I paused, then worked the clasp on my cloak while looking at the others. "Before anyone panics, I should clarify something."

  Nadine’s hand rose in caution, hovered, then fell back as I took off the cloak, tossing it over Altivo like a second blanket.

  "I strongly prefer Red."

  Then I grit my teeth against the drain as my wings unfurled.

  Ignoring the stares of the others, I bent my knees, and launched myself into the sky.

  I climbed before I let myself accelerate, forcing my way up into the wind until the treetops fell away beneath me. It was worse higher up, the air turbulent and hard to read, but it was better than risking a misstep in the blinding snow. Below me, the world had been erased to white. The road only showed itself by absence, by the dark tracks cut into the snow as the wagon moved through. I didn't even try to follow its winding path. I followed the pull.

  It drew me forward with quiet insistence, the same cord tightening in my chest as I leaned into it and finally stopped holding back. I pushed with more speed than I'd ever dared before. The wind tore at me as miles slipped away in a blur, the ground scrolling past too fast to follow. I let it. I trusted the pull to keep me true.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The camp appeared all at once, a smear of motion and fire against the snow.

  Lines of defenders were already engaged, steel flashing as men fought back shapes that were wrong in subtler ways. Fur and bone and too many joints, creatures that couldn’t decide whether they belonged on two legs or four. Mixed in among them were men as well, some in rags, others in armor that mimicked the cut and color of crusader plate without the discipline. None of that mattered. My focus snapped inward, drawn straight to the center of it all.

  Laurent.

  He was fighting with his back to two fallen men, holding the line alone against a pair of massive ravenlike beasts, their wings ragged and black against the storm. I was already angling down, already reaching for my sword, when he flared with holy light. It burst from him like a beacon, the snow around him flashing gold as he smashed one creature aside and struck the other down.

  For a heartbeat, I thought he had it.

  Then I saw the opening.

  The second monster moved faster than it should have been able to, its bulk blurring as it slammed into him. Laurent went flying, a spray of red marking his path as he hit the ground hard and didn’t get back up. The creature turned toward him, disfigured wings spreading as it moved in for the kill.

  There was no time to land. No time to think.

  I abandoned the dive and hurled myself forward instead, recklessness taking the reins as I poured everything I had into speed. The wind screamed around me, the ground rushing up far too fast, and only at the last moment did instinct catch up with intent.

  I called on the Blessing of Light. It wrapped around me in a rush of warmth and pressure just as I struck, my sword and my body hitting the creature together with all the strength I could muster. The impact shattered the moment into noise and motion, and then there was nothing but the crash.

  When the world came into clear focus, I was several meters from where I'd expected to be. My protective shell shattered in a burst of light with the impact. So did my sword, and judging by the pain, a few of my bones. I'd stopped on my hands and knees, and thankfully, my wings were still intact, if battered. I felt my regeneration piecing me back together, and gave it a moment to be sure I'd hold together before standing. Carefully, I folded my wings in, broken sword raised, and scanned for my enemy.

  It was everywhere. A spray of gore and feathers that spread in a cone before me. My spell had protected me from the worst of it, not that it mattered. I scanned around, finding no other enemies nearby, and began moving toward where I'd seen Laurent land. The pull I'd felt toward him was gone, and I could only follow the trail of blood.

  My head felt fogged, though from the impact, or the sudden fear, I wasn't sure. I came to Cedric first. His eyes tracked my movement, but he didn't move, only taking quick, shallow breaths. I knelt, and reached for his face. Small as the movement was, I saw when he tried to flinch back. He knew, then. I put that aside, resting my hand on the side of his head, and pushing my Healing Touch into him. I felt the magic take hold, spreading and binding, and I stood, walking on.

  I found Laurent's second companion next. A paladin, from the look of him. He was unconscious, but still bleeding, so I knew he was alive, if barely. I only stopped long enough to heal him, and then moved on.

  There was too much red in the snow, but I couldn't stop until I saw him for myself. My feet carried me forward in the still air, the crunch of my boots in the snow the only sound that registered. I moved around a broken cart in my path, only to stop when I saw a familiar book in the wreckage, knocked free and waiting for me. I bent to pick it up. It was the first novel I'd ever snatched from Laurent. The one he'd taken back, and I'd never had a chance to finish. I stared at it for a moment, then holding it tight to my chest, moved on.

  It was only a few steps later that I saw him. He lay unmoving half buried in the snow, red creeping through the crystals around him, his sword far from his grip.

  I froze for an instant, unwilling to step closer, but then I forced myself onward. My own breathing felt loud in my ears. The wind gusted, throwing my hair into my eyes and snow into the air. I hardly noticed. When I reached his side, I knelt. His eyes were already closed.

  I could only stare for several long seconds. Then I bent forward, laying my head on his chest, the breastplate hard against my face. I heard nothing but the howling wind in my ears, and I closed my eyes.

  "I'm sorry, Laurent."

  The words felt empty even as I said them. What could I have even done differently? If I'd stayed, maybe we could have talked, and maybe far more of the city would have been destroyed. Maybe he'd have just died then, instead.

  I wasn't really sure what to do. Leaving him here to rot felt wrong, but I didn't have a lot of options. I took a deep breath, my lungs filling with the scent of blood and snow, and gathered my wits. I couldn't stay here.

  "Mirela."

  My eyes flew open.

  "You're… heavy."

  My head snapped up, and I looked down at him. His eyes met mine, flicking just a little as he took me in, and finally ended at my chest where I was still holding the book tight.

  "Seriously?"

  I glanced down at the book, then back to him. "You were bleeding out. I needed a memento."

  My own words shook something loose in my mind. I tucked the book into my mantle and put both hands to his chest, already alight with Healing Touch before they landed. The magic took hold right away, and I felt how much damage had been done. The bleeding stopped. Wounds began to mend. And I could feel he still needed more.

  He let out a small, relieved sigh as the pain eased, and met my eyes.

  "You lied when we first met." My heart sank, and I almost started to explain, but he went on. "You told me you weren't an angel."

  I let out a breath, "I'm still not an Angel, Laurent."

  His eyes flicked over my shoulder, and he raised a brow. "All evidence to the contrary. How exactly do you explain those, then?"

  I bit my lip and flexed my wings in a helpless shrug.

  “…Honk?” I offered.

  He snorted a laugh, then winced at the pain. It was a stark reminder I wasn't close to done, and I pushed more into the healing. I saw in his face that it eased the pain somewhat, but I could feel damage, especially in his spine, that was beyond my ability.

  I shook my head. "It's not enough. I... can't. My class is still too weak for some of this."

  "It's alright, Mirela," he said, much of the strain in his voice gone now. "It doesn't hurt too bad. I'm sure someone here can do something. The others are alright?"

  I finally looked around, paying attention to the fading sounds of combat. His defenders had won. They were still closing in on the few beasts that remained, but their human masters were dead or fleeing. I could see sparks of divine magic as a few priests moved through the fallen, healing who they could.

  "Your friends won, for what that's worth," I said, but I could sense the magic around us. It was too much like my own.

  "You didn't have to run," Laurent said, dragging my attention back to him.

  "You're not mad?"

  "No," he said, with a small shake of his head. "You're still you."

  "Yes. I am. And that's why I had… have to go," I said. He opened his mouth to respond, but I spoke first. "It's also why I can heal you. Only, not as the Saint. Like I did before, with the venom."

  He swallowed, his eyes drifting automatically to my hand. "That seems dangerous with others around, Mirela. I'm sure someone else will have the magic. There's no need for the risk."

  I gave a slow shake of my head. "It's your spine, Laurent."

  He somehow managed to pale further. "Right. Of course it is." A faint, bittersweet smile settled on his face for a moment. "Always the damsel in distress with you. Maybe they should have made you the Hero."

  A soft laugh escaped me at that thought. "Oh, always seems like a pretty serious exaggeration, don't you think? Besides, it's already enough trouble with me as the Saint."

  "It's not… Look, Mirela—"

  I didn’t give him time to finish. I leaned down instead, my finger still at his lips as I closed the distance between us. His breath caught against my mouth, warm and uneven, and for a heartbeat I hesitated, feeling the weight of what I was about to do.

  Then I bit my tongue.

  The copper taste bloomed sharp and familiar as I kissed him, slow and deliberate, letting the blood spill between us. He stiffened in surprise, then relaxed, his hand curling weakly into my cloak as he accepted it. I stayed close, steadying him as I felt his body respond, the tremor of pain easing as the blood did what it always did, carrying the healing deeper than my touch ever could.

  When our lips parted, we stayed close, breathing the same air, his eyes searching mine as if he were afraid I might vanish if he looked away.

  “Mirela,” he said quietly. “There’s something I need to—”

  I was already sitting up when the bolt hit me.

  The impact knocked the breath from my lungs as it struck just below my ribs, driving me back into the snow. I tore it free on instinct, the pain cold and distant, and saw the silvered tip gleaming against the dark ebon shaft.

  I looked up to see figures moving in through the smoke and drifting snow , one with a crossbow already being reloaded, their coats and armor unmistakable even at a distance.

  “Stop her!” one of them shouted.

  Laurent was scrambling for his sword.

  I didn’t give them the chance to finish.

  I launched myself straight up, the ground dropping away as the wind caught me, leaving Laurent below with his words unfinished and the hunters shouting into empty air.

  The shock only lasted a moment. Then rational thought caught up to me. They might have been after me, but that didn't mean Laurent was safe. I twisted in the air, already angling back toward the camp—

  —and saw Laurent on his feet. His sword was already moving. The crossbowman nearest him didn’t even have time to scream before steel passed through his face, the blow carrying through into the man behind him. Shouts broke out as the rest of the hunters scattered, suddenly aware of what they’d walked into.

  Crusaders surged forward from the line, weapons raised, confusion and fury crashing together.

  That was enough. If I stayed, this would only get worse. Instead, I ascended high enough that tracking me in the snow would be difficult, but not impossible, then headed north. Only when I was confident I couldn't be followed further did I change direction again and circle back toward the road, searching for our wagon.

  It was just past sunrise when I finally found them again. The gusting wind and blowing snow had easily hidden their tracks, but fortunately for me, they'd stopped a couple of miles outside the next town to make camp and kept a fire burning.

  Mara was on watch and spotted me before I'd even touched the ground. It gave me a lot of confidence in her abilities.

  By the time I was walking into the camp, everyone was awake. Nadine ran to my side, immediately kneeling to look at the bloody hole where I’d ripped the bolt out.

  “It’s okay, Nadine. It’s healed.”

  She stopped, then looked up at me, her expression tight. “That could have been far worse. You really got lucky. Are you alright? Laurent?”

  I smiled at her. “He’s okay. It’s his fault the shot missed my heart. I’m sure that’s what they were aiming for.”

  I hesitated, then added, “I was close to him at the time. Kissing him, actually. I’d just leaned back when they fired.”

  “Mirela!” Nadine admonished.

  Mara laughed. “Well. That is lucky. And now I want to hear more of the story.”

  “If their aim had been true,” I said, pulling the book from my mantle, “this would have been ruined.”

  Nadine stood, reading the cover, then shook her head. “Did you really steal another one of his books?”

  “Borrowed!” I replied automatically. “Also, yes. I’m keeping this one.”

  Reality Warp is here to ask the important question: what if you just had actual cheat codes?

  CHEAT CODES.