Tom and his crew finish modifying the trailer in the early hours of the morning, and with Fynn’s help they hook it up to the tractor.

Astrid sits with her legs dangling out of the door at the side of the barn. She watches the others load everything, and feels terrible every single second of it. Being very focused might seem like a good thing, but right now Astrid despises it. Her mind is as sharp as a razor, allowing her to perfectly experience every feeling of hunger and boredom. She would think that having only a few hours of sleep and only vegetables to eat would leave her exhausted, just like yesterday, but today the exact opposite is the case.

When the others are finally done loading, baskets of fruits and other food take up the back of the modified hay trailer, while the sides are lined with barrels of water and sacks of grain.

They all meet next to the flatbed trailer and Fynn says that he wants to be there when they torch his home. Astrid and Elijah will stay as well. To Kilian’s dismay, he has to leave with the others. As a giant, he’s too big to ride a horse and too slow to keep up with one on foot.

Astrid’s mother wanted to stay too, but the Sheriff promised her that she and Noah would oversee the fire, and convinced her to go with the others.

With gasoline-filled watering cans at the ready, they meet at the center of the farm, while the tractor disappears inside the forest.

Fynn takes a deep breath. His eyes wander over the buildings, taking in every detail. “All right. Sheriff, you go light up the barn. Astrid, help me set fire to the house. Noah and Elijah, stay here and make sure no one sneaks up on us.”

Astrid follows him into his house and up the stairs. First, they enter his father's office.

Fynn looks around at the piles of paper and cabinets. He still remembers when his father would do the farm’s paperwork during winter and he would come bursting in, demanding he play with him. The young man swallows the tears welling up inside of him, takes a deep breath, and starts pouring gasoline over the floor and furniture. The sweet smell of gas quickly fills the room.

“No one really knows how much paperwork goes into owning a farm. Tax sheets, contracts, bills, and forms. Dad had to file and plan so many things. Now all these documents will be little more than fuel,” Fynn says as he pours gasoline over a filing cabinet. “Astrid, could you open the windows? The fire will need to breathe.”

Fynn takes one final look around the office, then they move on. While Astrid opens the skylights, Fynn pours gas over the guest bed. The bed his mother was tied to. Next is his sister’s old bedroom. The room is still filled with toys from days long past. Resting on her table with a few of her books is her tablet. Fynn chuckles.

“What is it?” Astrid asks.

“My sister left her tablet. She left it here the day before the fog.”

Astrid says, “You have a sister? You never mentioned her before.”

“You never asked,” Fynn replies, then starts pouring gasoline over everything.

They quickly move on to his room. This time, Fynn takes a bit longer. He walks through the room, brushing a hand over the furniture, then starts pouring gasoline over everything. “This is way tidier than my apartment,” he says.

“Your apartment?” Astrid asks as she opens the windows.

“I didn’t actually live here anymore. Why do you think I only have one pack of ammunition with me? The safe with my other guns and all of my ammunition is in my apartment. I actually live in Fridrichsport with my sister. Or rather, she lived with me.”

“Lived?” Astrid asks.

Fynn frowns, then snorts. “All the small towns around here are drowning in magical death fog. What do you think it looks like in the big cities? Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it. A few of her friends wanted to go to a party that day when the fog came. She was most likely at a club when the lights went out.” He brushes his hand over his old table, then pours gasoline over it.

 

The air is saturated with gas fumes. The smell is sweet but intense and forces its way into Astrid’s lungs. She tries to take only shallow breaths, so as not to breathe in the slightly poisonous vapors. They move on to the first floor, and once every room has at least a bit of gasoline in it, they lay a trail outside. The Sheriff is waiting for them with Noah and Elijah.

“You ready?” she asks Fynn.

Fynn takes one final look at the farm. It looks like he wants to say something but closes his mouth before a word can come out. With shaking hands, he pulls a lighter out of his pocket, lights a piece of paper, and then drops it onto the small puddle of gasoline at his feet. The flammable liquid ignites and three trails of fire race away from them. One towards the house and two towards the barns.

At first, nothing happens. The trails of fire burn for a few seconds, then the gas is gone and the fires die.

They wait.

The first orange light starts coming from the house.

Then smoke starts rising from the barns. Within seconds, the house’s windows begin spewing black smoke, while flames start roaring from the barns.

The group runs away to watch the flames from a safe distance. It had a slow start, but now everything happens almost instantly. Small flames turn into roaring infernos as they consume dry wood and hay. Metal creaks as its supports are turned to ash.

Astrid stares at the burning buildings. The blaze has a dark beauty to it. Watching the flames roar out of the windows of the house and the barns’ roofs sag under their own weight is almost hypnotizing. She feels a sort of loss at seeing these buildings consumed, yet she can’t look away either.

 

The fire has spread to every part of the farm, turning the entire compound into a single massive blaze. The flames roar, louder than Astrid expected, while a massive plume of gray-black smoke rises into the air. Astrid can smell it. Even at a safe distance, the air is saturated with the smell of smoke and burning plastic. If the dragon is anywhere nearby, there is no way he'll miss this cloud of smoke.

They wait.

They wait until they finally see something flying in the distance.

“Look,” the Sheriff says. She points at the flying creature. It's quickly approaching and a closer look reveals that it has feathers.

“That’s not her father. That’s a gripper!” Fynn yells.

The group sprints for cover. Behind them, the gripper comes swooping down, gaining speed as it descends.

“Scatter!” the Sheriff yells.

Noah and Elijah run to the left, while Fynn and the Sheriff run to the right. Astrid keeps going in a straight line.

The gripper sees them run for the tree line. With an angry shriek, the monster leaves its dive and regains altitude.

The group doesn’t dare rest until they reach the safety of the trees.

Astrid crashes into the undergrowth and loses sight of the others. Above her, the giant bird turns back towards the burning farm. Astrid pants and looks around. She’s about to call out to the others as she hears the Sheriff’s voice nearby. “That was close.”

“You can say that out loud,” a voice Astrid doesn't recognize says from somewhere she can’t see. The man’s voice has a heavy accent.

Astrid freezes. Both her feet are planted on leaves and any movement would rustle them, giving away her position. Her heart, already racing from the chase with the gripper, pounds in her ears.

“Don't even think about it,” the unknown voice says. “Durum, get their weapons. I'll find the others.”

Astrid hears rustling from the direction of the voices and branches snap somewhere to her right.

“Stop!” a man yells from the direction of the voices.

Astrid uses the noise to move behind a tree without alerting the incoming person. ‘That rustling must've been Noah and Elijah. Are they running?’ She listens and hears their rustling moving away from her. ‘I can’t move without alerting that man.' The soldier's steps are coming closer. Astrid's expression turns blank. Her breaths are slow and shallow. ‘But I have to make sure Noah and Elijah can get away. What do I do?’ The steps are now right behind the tree she's hiding behind. Her heart is beating like an engine. ‘Now or never!' The urge to attack overwhelms her, purging her head of everything as her instincts take over. The footsteps pass right behind her and she steps around the tree.

The soldier is a human dressed in an Army uniform. His head is lowered and his eyes focused on the iron sight of his rifle. A shudder moves through his body. He raises his head, but before he can turn Astrid has closed the gap. She swings her left arm around his neck, while her other hand grapples his assault rifle.

“Ack—” The man barely makes a noise before Astrid pulls him against her chest. With her elbow just below his chin and her forearm and biceps on either side of his neck, she flexes the muscles in her arm and pushes his head forward with her chest.

The gun goes off, spraying bullets into the undergrowth. The noise deafens Astrid as the recoil causes the weapon to push itself in every direction. She can feel the black metal grow warm in her grip and she increase the strength of her stranglehold. Even with both hands, the man can’t lift his gun against Astrid's arm and his upper body isn’t strong enough to escape her grip. His legs kick against her shins, but the attacks don’t faze her at all.

“Sergeant? Did you find them? Is everything all right?”

The Sergeant's eyes flick towards the other man's voice and his jaws snap open and shut like a fish out of water. Astrid pulls him so hard against her chest that it’s starting to hurt. Her lips are against his ear. With no more than a breath, she whispers, “Shhh.”

Suddenly, a bit of the pressure on the gun disappears. Only his left hand is now holding the rifle's barrel, while his right hand frantically moves to something at his waist. Astrid's eyes follow his hand onto the pistol he's frantically trying to get out of its holster. With every second his movements become clumsier, but he just manages to pull his gun out. His arm moves up to aim at Astrid's head.

Refusing to release her chokehold, she lets go of the assault rifle. Her fingers close around the pistol’s barrel, instantly halting its advance towards her. Just as she manages to press her fingers against the steel with full strength, the gun goes off.

Bang. The loud noise is accompanied by a blast of hot air. It blows back her hair and the top part of the gun shudders in her hand. The slide tries to move back, but cannot overcome the elf’s grip.

The man’s finger moves against the trigger again, but with a quick twist, Astrid rips the gun out of his hand.

“Hey!” a male voice yells behind her.

The soldier in her arms is turning limp. Astrid places his own pistol against his head and drags his body around to face the other man.

He's standing behind a tree and is aiming his assault rifle at Astrid. “Let him go.”

Her mind spins as the cold rage mixes with fear. ‘Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.' Her mouth moves before her brain even realizes what she wants to say. “Or what? You're gonna shoot your buddy? Let go of my friends and you can have him back.” Despite the tornado of feelings and thoughts in her head, Astrid's voice sounds cold and menacing. Her yellow eyes flick over the man's body to take in every detail, while her face remains frozen in an expressionless mask. The only things that betray her fear are her fast, shallow breaths and the fact that she's biting down on her teeth so hard they threaten to break.

The man's body doesn’t hide his agitation. Quivering arms and fast breaths make it difficult for him to keep his gun on Astrid. “I know what we’re doing isn’t right, but come on. Just put the gun down and… and we can talk.”

Astrid narrows her eyes. The cold anger that fills her urges her to kill the man in her arms. ‘Kill them both. Only the dead are harmless. Don’t submit,’ her instincts urge. “Exactly. You put down your gun and tell whoever’s guarding the others to come over here,” Astrid hisses and presses the pistol harder against the unconscious soldier’s skull. She starts dragging his limp body backward. ‘If he starts shooting, I need to be in cover.’ She tries to recall every action scene from every movie she’s ever seen and every comment from her brother about how unrealistic they are and what would really happen, but nothing useful enters her brain. ‘Dammit, Astrid! Improvise!’ she yells at herself in her head, but that doesn't help her brain come up with a plan.

The soldier calls, “What are you doing?”

“Step out from behind that tree and I’ll show you.”

“Look. We need to come to an agreement here.”

Astrid contorts her face into a nasty grimace. “I have time, but your comrade here is suffocating. Let the others go and I swear I won’t hurt him.”

“You’re lying. The moment I let you out of my sight, you’ll shoot him. I have a better idea. Let him go, or we’ll start executing your friends.”

Astrid finally manages to drag him behind a tree. “Do that and I’ll kill him.”

The young man’s voice quivers. “You… asked for it… Durum. One here has got the Sergeant. Kill one of the others.”

A gunshot fills the air. As it echoes through the forest, Fynn calls, “Astrid—” but is cut off before he can finish his sentence.

A wave of anger overwhelms Astrid, and as soon as the loud bang fills her ears, she pulls the trigger of the pistol. The little lever is harder to pull than she expected, but she sees the hammer move back and then snap forward as she finishes pulling the trigger all the way back.

The soldier yells, “NO!”

The hammer strikes the back of the gun with a loud clack, but nothing happens. There is no bang. The same empty feeling Astrid felt when her revolver was empty expands through her chest.

The soldier’s mouth is open. He stares at Astrid and his Sergeant for several seconds before he realizes what just happened. “Let him go and drop the gun. Right now, or I will shoot you.”

Astrid is frozen. A weird emptiness spreads to her head as she stares at the soldier. ‘What do I do? Maybe if I drop the gun they won’t kill Fynn.’ Her fingers feel made out of steel as she tries to bend them away from the weapon. Her instincts scream at her not to let go, but she forces her fingers apart. They slowly obey, until the gun falls out of her hand and lands with a quiet rustle. Her entire body quivers as she starts decreasing the pressure on the Sergeant’s neck until his limp body falls out of her embrace. He too drops onto the ground with a rustle.

“Sergeant?”, the man asks.

It takes a few seconds before he starts gasping for air. He coughs and pulls in a deep breath. “Shiiiit!” he yells. His voice sounds rough, like he has a cold. With clumsy movements, he scrambles to his feet and picks his assault rifle up. Massaging his neck, he turns to face Astrid. After a few more coughs, he says, “Muller, tie that monster up.” He coughs again before he raises his gun at Astrid.

Muller slings his rifle over his back and pulls out a rope.

Astrid glares at him as he comes closer. Her muscles are restless and ache from the urge to jump him. Even though doing that would get her killed, it takes everything in her to suppress that urge. Which only becomes more difficult when he steps behind her and grabs her hands. ‘Maybe I should resist. I could try to grab him, even if it kills me… no. I made my choice when I let the Sergeant go. Now I have to live with that. But why didn’t that gun work?!’

She feels him twist the rope around her wrists and stiffens her arms. A small act of defiance. ‘At least Noah and Elijah got away. With a bit of luck, they will meet Dad and come to help us. Now we just need to stall for time.’

The soldier tightens the rope behind her back. It bites into her skin and causes her to writhe and pull against her bindings.

“Done.”, the soldier says and steps away.

The Sergeant walks back up to her and picks up the pistol.

Muller asks, “Sir, why didn’t it fire?”

“She tried to shoot me?!” the Sergeant croaks. His eyes lock onto Astrid. He turns his rifle around and rams the stock into her stomach.

Astrid gasps and doubles over. In an almost instinctive motion, she kicks at him. The man jumps back and easily avoids her attack, causing her to lose her balance and fall backward. With a grunt, she lands on her back.

The Sergeant laughs and slings his rifle over his back. “Let’s see.” He pulls the magazine out. “Still full… wait….” He puts it back in and pulls back the slide. An empty shell flies out of the weapon, before the top part of the gun snaps back in place. The Sergeant aims at the ground and pulls the trigger. A loud bang sends a bullet flying into a pile of leaves. “You know what happened?” He looks at Muller. “When we fought, she grabbed the barrel and stopped the slide from repeating, so when she pulled the trigger it just tried to fire the spent shell.” He laughs and kicks Astrid in the side. Pain explodes through her lower body, but she just grunts and pulls her legs closer to her body. “That’s for trying to kill me. Now get up. Before I decide to kill you.”

Astrid glares at him while she slowly stands up. His neck is rapidly turning blue where she choked him. A fact that puts a smile on her face.

“Move!” The Sergeant pushes Astrid forward, forcing her to stumble after Muller.

‘Come on. Think. I need to keep them talking… No. I’ll wait till we get to Fynn and then I can stall with a few questions. Hopefully.’

The dense forest opens onto a clearing. Two other soldiers – a female elf, like Astrid and a brown-furred kobold – are holding Fynn and the Sheriff at gunpoint. The elf has thrown Fynn to the ground and is covering his mouth with her hand. The kobold is aiming a pistol at the Sheriff, who is quietly watching everything. Her hands are secured behind her back with her own handcuffs.

Astrid’s eyes flick from one to the other. ‘What? How? They tricked me!’ She grinds her teeth.

Muller lets out a sigh. “Oh good. I thought you actually shot one of them.”

The female elf doesn't take her eyes of Fynn as she replies, “Telling me to shoot one of them was a crap idea! You’re lucky she didn’t shoot the Sergeant as soon as you said that.”

The Sergeant glares at Muller. “She did try to shoot me, and if the gun hadn’t been jammed, my brains would be painting the forest.”

Astrid hears movement behind her, before the Sergeant pushes her. She stumbles and, without her hands, loses her balance. She hits the floor face first.

“Agh! Stop pushing me,” Astrid hisses.

A kick in the side sends another wave of pain through her body. “Shut up. Consider yourself lucky I’m the forgiving type.”

Astrid glares up at him. ‘We'll see who’s the forgiving type when my father gets here'. She imagines her father unleashing a torrent of that magical golden energy-acid on them. She’s not sure what effect the dragon’s breath attack has on humans, but it can’t be too different from what happened to the plants. She imagines the skin of the soldiers turning black and melting, while they desperately try to fire their disintegrating weapons and the air is filled with that satisfying electric crackling. Thinking of their screams as they fall apart helps her take the humiliation of lying in the dirt with her hands tied behind her back.

“You wanna go first?” the Sergeant askes Muller.

Astrid’s hateful gaze moves onto Muller. ‘First with what?’

The man blinks, “What?”

“That whore tried to murder me. I don’t like killing women, but I do like plowing them.”

“No. I… I'm good,” Muller stammers.

“Suit yourself. Now you…” the Sergeant leans over Astrid, “are going to pay me back for that attempted murder.” He ruffles her hair.

Astrid shivers and struggles against the rope securing her hands behind her back. ‘Dad, now would be a really good time to show up.’ She tries to think of something to say. Anything that could stall for more time, but everything is clouded by a weird mixture of anger and fear. Her racing thoughts move too fast to form any coherent idea.

“Leave her alone!,” she hears Fynn yell.

The Sergeant stops touching Astrid’s hair. “Hey Durum, could you do me a favor and show him that silence is gold?” Astrid can’t see his face, but she's sure he's smiling.

“Of course,” the elf says. Astrid hears a dull thud and a grunt of pain from Fynn, as the elf rams her rifle’s stock into his stomach.

Astrid wants to cry out, or do anything to make her stop, but before she can, the Sergeant grabs her arms. Her words turn into a pained screech as he tries to lift her to her feet. Even though her arms hurt from being pulled like that, she refuses to move. He pulls her up a little over the ground, before he lets out a loud, “Uff,” and drops her. Her jaw is slammed shut by the impact. Her teeth hurt and she’s afraid she might have broken one.

“Damn. What are you made of? Bricks?”

Now's her chance to talk and buy some more time. Even though she tries to make her voice sound confident, it comes out oddly high pitched, and through her clenched teeth it only sounds more pathetic. “Muscles and bones, actually. Maybe a little bit of fat too.” For some reason her ever-confident voice has finally decided to leave her.

He doesn’t try to lift her again. His voice sounds amused as he says, “Is that so?”

“If you're too weak to lift me, just untie me. Then I can get up on my own and show you exactly what my hands and feet are made of.” ‘If I can get him angry, he might even agree to a one-on-one fist fight. At worst he'll beat the shit out of me, which would buy a good bit of time. It might even cause him to exert himself so much that he won't be able to do anything else. Either way, it'll keep my pants up, and my new body can probably take a good beating pretty well…’

A kick in her ribs interrupts her line of thought. It sends a burst of pain through her, but nothing more than a quiet gasp escapes her. Astrid blinks quickly several times, then says, “First you can’t lift me up, and then you can’t even kick properly. If they let people like you become sergeants, no wonder the Army is such a joke.”

She hears him laugh behind her. Then she feels his shoe against her stomach. “You know, I'm starting to think you're enjoying this,” he says, using his foot to turn her onto her back. Her tied hands force her to arch her back in an awkward way, but at least she can now see the others.

“Tell you what,” the Sergeant says, “I'm gonna have my fun now and then I'll beat the crap out of you so you can have yours.” He pulls out a knife.

Astrid screeches and tries to kick him as he leans down, but he avoids her legs with ease.

“Come on, she's just a child,” the Sheriff says.

Both Astrid and the Sergeant halt mid-motion and turn to look at her.

The Sergeant stands back upright and says, “She doesn’t look that young. She looks older than you and she definitely chokes like an adult…”

It sounds like he wants to continue talking, but the Sheriff interrupts him: “Yeah and I bet that one over there wasn’t a woman a week ago.”

“Good point,” Durum says. It seems she's gotten bored of punching Fynn and is now sitting broad-legged on a rock.

The Sheriff looks at the elf, then back at the Sergeant and continues, “Let’s you and me head behind that bush over there and do some adult things.” She winks.

The Sergeant looks at her, then at the bushes, then at Astrid. Astrid glares at him, her breathing heavy. She wants to say something, but her mind is still filled with a weird mixture of anger and fear that blocks out all other thoughts.

“All right,” the Sergeant says. He turns away from Astrid and walks up to the Sheriff. The Sheriff is actually taller than he is.

“Let's go.” He slaps her behind, causing her to stumble forward.

The Sheriff barely manages to regain her balance.

Astrid sees the other elf roll her eyes and then swallow. She stands upright and stares straight ahead, while the Sergeant says, “You three. Keep an eye on these two while we do our… business. If I scream or the like, it means shoot these two in the head, then come help me.”

The others nod, then the Sergeant leads the Sheriff behind the bushes. She walks with stiff legs, but at a brisk pace.

Everyone's eyes follow them until they disappear behind the foliage.

The elf bandit looks at Astrid and says, “Dodged a bullet there, didn’t you? Be happy that Jon over there is a coward and I’m a woman or you'd both be getting it behind those bushes. Who is she anyway? Your sister or something?”

Astrid just glares at the she-elf in response.

“Oh shut up,” Muller – whose first name seems to be Jon – says.

The elf smirks and turns to look at him.

The man continues, “Just because I don’t force myself on people we capture doesn’t make me a coward.”

She laughs. “If you really weren't a coward, but a man of principle, you would have at least said something and not just quietly tied them up like you were told.”

The man glares at her, then says, “What about you? Shouldn’t you have a little bit more sympathy considering you're now a woman yourself? And if you’re so tough, why don't you do it with that guy there? He probably wouldn’t even mind.”

“Screw you. You're both assholes,” Fynn spits.

The elf woman ignores him and says to her fellow soldier, “I don’t need to. If I want to be rammed, I'll just ask one of you.”

Muller opens his mouth, then closes it again. Like a fish. The elf smirks at him and he just says, “Whatever. Let’s just guard them until the Sergeant is done and we can head back.”

Astrid wants to insult or taunt them, but the words get stuck in her throat. ‘I shouldn't anger them. Especially since the Sheriff just sacrificed herself for me.’ She's glad that the Sheriff took that bullet for her, yet at the same time, she feels awful. Both for the fact that the Sheriff has taken something terrible upon herself to spare Astrid, and because she's glad of it. She doesn’t want to feel glad, but she can’t deny that she does. Which makes her feel even more guilty about everything. ‘We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. We wouldn’t have bothered with burning down the farm if we weren’t looking for that dragon that may or may not be my dad,’ Astrid thinks. There's still the hope that he's going to show up, but it feels distant now. Like it would be too good to come true. ‘At least Noah and Elijah got away. They're probably on their way to the others right now.’ The knowledge that her brother didn’t have to witness any of this gives her a bit of comfort.

She looks towards the bushes where the Sheriff and the Sergeant disappeared, but can’t see or hear anything.

Lying on her bound hands is killing her back, so she rolls onto her side, her face away from the three bandits. Through the trees, she can see the burning buildings of the farm.

One of the barns is the first thing to collapse. In a massive cloud of sparks, the supports give way and the sheet metal roof caves in on itself. She can hear the metallic crash from here. Even though it’s been burning for a while, the fire shows no sign of dying down. It still licks at the walls and sends a massive plume of dark smoke high into the air. Astrid’s eyes follow the smoke into the sky.

The trees stop her from seeing much of it, but she still looks for anything in the air that might be moving. In the distance, she sees a shape in the sky. Her heart jumps, but a closer look reveals it to be the gripper. Still looking for prey.

Astrid squirms in her ropes. Her hands are starting to feel numb, but that discomfort is nothing against the feeling of helplessness. The fact that she can’t do anything but lie on the ground and think is more painful than any wound she has received so far.

It feels like forever, but finally Astrid hears a gasp from the bushes the Sheriff and the Sergeant disappeared into. The two other bandits must've heard it too, because they jump up from their rock. The Sergeant walks out of the bush. “All right. Let’s go.”

Durum nods her weapon towards Fynn and Astrid. “What about those two?”

“Leave them. Now move out,” the Sergeant orders.

Astrid has to stop herself from yelling, “Untie us.” They're leaving, and every second she has to watch them is one second too much. And one second in which they could decide to blow their brains out instead.

Astrid watches them disappear in the bushes.

She waits for what feels like half an eternity. The places where the Sergeant kicked her burn, adding to her collection of wounds. Finally, she hears the roars of motorcycles. Only once the loud noise quietens, does she dare speak. “Fynn? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I'm fine.” She can hear him moving.

Astrid also starts trying to get up. Standing up without using her hands is difficult, but after a short struggle, she manages to get to her feet. She waits for Fynn to get up as well before she says, “Fynn. Do you think you can untie me?”

The two stand back to back and Fynn starts fumbling around with the rope. Astrid does her best to stand still, while Fynn tries to undo the knot. It takes him a while, but as soon as he pulls the right way, Astrid's bonds fall apart. Blood rushes into her hands. The painful numbness turns into an odd prickling sensation.

Fynn says, “Now you do me,” but Astrid is already untying him. Being able to fully use her hands and see the knot makes undoing it easy. Soon they’re both free.

Fynn rubs his wrists and says, “Let’s find the Sheriff.”

Astrid nods.

They head towards the bushes. “Sheriff?” Astrid calls.

“Over here.”

They find her in a clearing on the other side of the bushes. The area marks the edge of a small patch of forest where only pines grow. The trees don’t allow anything else to thrive in their shadow, leaving the forest floor mostly bare. The Sheriff has turned herself on her stomach and is doing her best to pull her pants back up with her hands still cuffed behind her back. Fynn instinctively averts his eyes, while Astrid runs to her.

Upon hearing them approach, the Sheriff looks over her shoulder. Her face is red as a tomato, but her voice is calm and collected as she says, “Ah, you two managed to untie yourselves. Good. Astrid, would you be so kind as to help me?”

Astrid kneels down next to her. “Are you all right? Where’s the key to the handcuffs?”

“The bastard took it with him, but Noah should have another one. Now please help me pull up my pants.” The Sheriff repeats her request with a bit more force and a hint of anger.

Astrid immediately complies. She makes sure everything sits properly before she closes the zip.

The Sheriff grunts in approval then starts getting up. Astrid helps her to her feet. The blue shirt that made up the top part of her police uniform has been pushed to the sides, completely exposing her naked chest.

“Could you...” she starts, but Astrid is already busy pulling the blue shirt and black T-shirt underneath back over her shoulders. The buttons have been ripped open and the T-shirt has been cut from top to bottom as well. The two garments, no longer connected in the middle, fall to the sides as soon as Astrid lets them go. They barely cover the elf’s chest. Astrid looks at them, trying to figure out a way to close them until the Sheriff says, “Just leave it,” with unnecessary force.

Astrid takes a step away. ‘Should I offer her my shirt? No, she wouldn’t be able to put it on anyway.’ Instead, she asks, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” the Sheriff squirms in her handcuffs, “we find Noah so he can get me out of these blasted cuffs.”

“Noah and my brother are still nowhere to be found. Neither is my father…” Astrid trails off.

The Sheriff's yellow eyes burn with anger. “God. Damn. It!" she yells. She pulls her arms apart like she's trying to break her cuffs, but the cold steel remains unimpressed.

“I’m sorry,” Astrid whispers, taking another step back. “I was sure the fire would attract him.”

“Well, I'm through waiting for a monster that might possibly be your father. We're going to catch up to the others and hope we get to them before those bastards do. Now, did they find the horses?” 

“No,” Fynn answers. “They didn’t even look for them."

The Sheriff jogs ahead, forcing Fynn and Astrid to follow at a brisk pace.