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“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet.
The man let out a yelp and jumped back, nearly tripping over his compatriots. “Uh, no, nothing, just looking, we’ll be going now?—”
He snatched a random book off the shelf and thrust it at Hali, before bolting for the door with his companions close behind.
“Hey, you haven’t paid for that—” Hali started to say, but it was too late. The strangers were already vanishing into the streets.
“Hold it right there!” Osric shouted, darting out of the shop after them.
“Osric, no!” Hali cried.
Hali raced to the window and peered outside, just in time to see a scuffle breaking out in the street. Osric was surrounded by the three strangers, who had now donned sinister-looking masks, and they were closing in on him, brandishing wicked-looking daggers.
With a furious growl, Hali snatched up the heaviest book she could find—a treatise on dwarvish metallurgy that she’d been meaning to shelve—and charged out of the shop.
“Hey! You there! Unhand my?—”
She never got to finish her threat. One of the strangers had circled around behind Osric and was making a grab for him. With a fearsome battle cry, Hali brought the book down on the man’s head.
The blow wasn’t enough to knock him out, but it did stop him in his tracks. He staggered back, and the dagger went skittering across the cobblestones. The other two strangers whirled around, their eyes hidden behind their masks, but Hali didn’t give them a chance to make a move. She lunged at the nearest one, swinging the book with all her might.
She was a dwarf, after all, and while she might not have the height of an elf or the agility of a human, she had a few centuries’ worth of experience when it came to brawling. The book connected with a satisfying thud, and the stranger crumpled to the ground.
The third stranger had regained his feet, and he lunged at Hali, dagger flashing in the moonlight. Hali dove to the side, book held protectively in front of her, and the blade sank into the cover with a sickening thud. With a roar of fury, Hali brought her boot up in a vicious kick, catching the stranger in the chin. He stumbled back, and Hali didn’t give him a chance to recover. She pounced on him, raining down blows with the book.
“Stay down, you cur! I’ll have your head for a paperweight!”
A sudden blast of fire illuminated the twilight, and the remaining strangers cried out in alarm. Osric stood in the middle of the street, his hands wreathed in flames, his face a mask of fury.
“Get away from her, you bastards.”
The strangers exchanged a quick, silent look, and then they scattered, vanishing into the night.
“Damn it. No, you don’t?—”
Hali took off after them, her short legs pumping as fast as they could. She wasn’t about to let them get away, not after what they’d tried to do to Osric. She caught up to one of them, a burly human, and with a fierce battle cry, she thumped him with the tome.
The man crumpled to the ground, and Hali didn’t stop to see if he was still moving. She scanned the street, but the other two strangers had already vanished.
“Hali! Are you all right?” Osric called, jogging over to her.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Are you hurt?”
Osric grimaced, one hand pressed to his side. “Just a scratch.”
“That is not just a scratch!” Hali cried, assessing the gash on his cheek that had left a molten line of fiery blood across it. “Oh, Oz, we need to get you cleaned up!”
“In a moment. Let me catch my breath. But you . . . you were amazing.”
Hali flushed with pride, and she offered Osric a hand. “Not at all, my handsome prince. Just doing what needed to be done.”
Hali’s hands trembled as she clasped Osric’s hands, the rush of battle fading, leaving her dizzy and cold. She studied Osric, her eyes stinging with tears, and saw the same raw fear mirrored in his face. She wanted to be strong for him, to show him that she wasn’t some helpless maiden in need of saving, but the truth was, she was terrified. Terrified of what might have happened if she hadn’t acted. Terrified of what these strangers wanted with her and her shop. Terrified of the darkness that was closing in around them, and the long, lonely night that stretched out ahead.
“Halizanth,” Osric said. “By the flames. Are you all right?”
Hali nodded, her lower lip trembling. “I . . . I think so. But . . .”
She looked down at her hands, still sticky with the strangers’ blood, and the reality of what had just happened came crashing down. She stumbled back against the wall of a nearby building, and then she was sliding down, down, until she was sitting on the cold stone of the street. Osric crouched down in front of her, his hands warm on her shoulders.
