Max’s breath caught in his throat as Alden and Garret exited the small house. Their eyes flicked between Max and Miranda, shock and confusion spreading on their faces. Alden’s knuckles whitened, gripping his sword’s hilt tightly. Rotbreath, sensing his owner's tension, sat up further and began growling at Miranda.

  Only then did Max notice that the witch had drawn her blade. Runes etched into the steel began to glow a soft blue, then the blade became wreathed in sickly green light. She’s not going to kill them, right? They're just drunks.

  “Witch!” Alden shouted as he raised his blade in defense. Garret followed suit. The stink of ale wafted off the two every time they moved; it was almost nauseating. “Max, I don’t know what trouble this woman has brought upon you and this town, but you must turn yourselves in. They only want her.”

  Max wanted to believe them, to be rid of the witch and the problems she had brought upon him. But deep down he knew it was a lie; he heard what the assassins had said in the woods. There would be no home for him to return to, no farm, no Gerald. He took a cautious step back. Maybe I can convince them to let us run—

  Miranda raised her arms, the blade's green aura growing in the night. She is definitely going to kill them. Her face was set, not with hate but determination. Like she was about to commit a necessary evil. Max scanned his surroundings, looking for an out, then he found one. She is going to hate this.

  Max lunged forward, taking the witch by surprise. In fact, no one expected the sudden movement and all stood like statues as Max wrapped his arm around Miranda’s waist and jumped backwards. They hit the ground hard, then rolled, faster and faster. Down the steep ditch they went, almost twenty feet before they stuck fast in the mud at the base.

  Miranda got up first, her eyes wide with fury. “Are you insane?” she shouted at him, her dagger trembling in her hand. Max stood, flicking mud from his hands.

  “They're just fools, people I grew up with!” Max shouted back. “I couldn't let you kill them.”

  Miranda was about to respond, pointing her dagger at Max as if to punctuate whatever she was about to say, then shouts came from the top of the ditch. Alden and Garret were already beginning to make their way down the steep decline, slowly and steadily. Rotbreath was howling at the top, a call responded to by other howls not too far in the distance.

  “Let’s go,” Miranda said aggressively, stowing her blade. She turned and sprinted off into the dark. Max followed reluctantly. What’s worse: handing himself back to a possible arrest and or execution? Or running blindly into the woods with a witch that hates you? Max pushed into the dense woods and followed her.

  The rain became a downpour; every minute they ran it grew worse and heavier. The wind picked up and with it, the cold. The warmth was leeched from Max’s skin faster than he could recover it, even at the breakneck speed they fled in. That fast pace was slowly degrading for the witch, faster than it was for Max.

  He caught up to her at a large pine where she had stopped, rubbing her arms to conserve her warmth. Her body was shivering violently.

  “We need to lose them and find cover!” Max shouted over the rain. “The cold will kill us faster than the bounty hunters if we aren't careful.”

  “Well, you know these woods!” she snapped, her teeth chattering. “Where do we go?”

  “I don't know, this is the furthest I've ever gone!”

  “Damn,” she responded, shuddering with a shaky breath. She closed her eyes, a faint blue light illuminating her face from under her eyelids. For a moment she stopped shivering, the air seemed to vibrate, then it stopped and returned to normal.

  Her eyes snapped open. “This way!” she shouted, pointing off into a darker section of the forest. Her skin paled even more and she stumbled slightly as she took off into the woods. Max followed her, close behind. He didn't know where they were going but the witch seemed certain this path would lead them to safety.

  As they ran she would periodically toss her head over her shoulder and tense up as if someone was whispering in her ear. It was unnerving to watch the woman who clearly held so much power degrade so fast in the cold of a storm. Then they met a river.

  Swollen and angry from the storm, its surface, inky black in the night, raced past. A spray of cold water smacked them in the face as they neared its shore. Max approached the edge and stuck a hand into the water. His fingers instantly went numb from the cold and he reeled back. She led us to a death trap.

  “We can't cross that!” Max shouted over the roar of the river. “We will die of hypothermia!”

  “It's either that or we die at the hands of the assassins!” she shouted back, still glancing back to the woods like it wasn't the bounty hunters she was worried about. She’s right. Max didn't know much about the assassins but knew they were lethal. He took a deep breath and stepped quickly into the water. The air was forced from his lungs instantly as the cold plunge sent shockwaves up his body. He planted his feet against the force of the water and waded to about hip high.

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  “I think this is as deep as it gets!” he shouted to Miranda. She hesitated on the shoreline biting her lip. What is she waiting for? This was her idea. Finally, she took a deep breath and jumped forward and into the water. She would have landed gracefully in the river if the cold hadn't immediately sent her into shock. Her face paled and her body tensed, then she went under.

  Max dove forward, thrashing around desperately for something to get a hold on. For a moment he thought she had been swept away, then he felt her cold fingers wrap around his ankle. He forced his body further into the cold water, still maintaining his fight against the current, found her underarms and pulled with all his strength. A waterlogged witch, gasping for air, came out of the water, frantically trying to get her footing.

  They stood there for a long moment, Max supporting her, as she regained her composure. Why am I saving her? If I let her die wouldn't that solve all my problems? But even as he said it he felt guilty; his parents didn't raise him to just let someone die. Besides, she is currently the only one who isn't trying to capture or kill him, and she might have answers.

  Barking in the distance drove the shock from Miranda's eyes and she started forward towards the other bank. Max followed suit, making sure to stay a few feet behind her just in case she collapsed again. They were three-quarters of the way to the other side of the river when three large dogs came skidding to a halt at the water's edge. They barked and yelped for their masters to hurry. Miranda turned to Max, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the water.

  “Down,” she hissed. They sank into the water, right up to their chins. The cold was agonizing. Every breath was painful and Max could feel pins and needles attacking every inch of his skin.

  Another shape came from the woods, a man. He stopped at the water's edge trying to calm the hounds. He put a hand over his eyes as he peered into the night straining to see across the river. Please don't see us. Please don't see us. The man took a half step forward, and slipped.

  The mud had become slick on the water's edge and the bounty hunter lost all footing. He went headfirst into the icy river with a heavy, spectacular splash. Water washed over the dogs and they yelped, shaking the cold river from their fur. The man came up quickly and heaved a huge gasping breath. Laughter erupted from the forest edge.

  “Careful Dorin!” a voice shouted. “I believe there's a river nearby!”

  Dorin. Another one of Alden's drinking buddies, the worst one. The man pulled himself out of the icy water shaking.

  “Shut up Alden!”

  “Did ya find them down there?” Alden replied, already taking control of the hunting dogs.

  “Piss off!”

  More laughter erupted from the trees as Garret and a few others Max didn't recognize stepped out on the water's edge. They began arguing inaudibly, pointing to the water. Max felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned.

  Miranda, her face sickly pale and her lips blue, was gesturing towards the bank. She mouthed ‘let’s go, quietly’ and began wading towards the shore. They moved like ghosts in the water, not making a sound or even a ripple. Finally, they made it to the muddy shore and pulled themselves up. Max was shivering so hard his teeth were chattering.

  “We need warmth,” Max said through gritted teeth.

  “They’ll see,” Miranda responded, slowly standing. Max looked to the other shoreline; it was empty. They hadn't crossed, and Max doubted there would be any suitable crossing nearby.

  “They're gone, it's worth the risk,” Max responded. Miranda nodded quickly, and turned to walk up the river. Where is she going? Then Max saw it, a large pile of boulders next to the water's edge. He quickly joined her as she stumbled towards them.

  There was a massive slab of slate sitting atop the largest boulder. It created an overhang that left a small patch of dirt dry and blocked from the wind. They quickly ducked under the slate and sat in the small space, shoulder to shoulder. Max felt a tremor run through the witch's body. Is she dying? He quickly looked around the dry patch for anything to start a fire. At this point catch us, I'm too cold for this.

  He found some dry tree branches that had fallen nearby and pulled them forward. Quickly he set to work breaking them off and stacking them into a neat pile. Every time he snapped a twig, pain would race up his arm; his skin felt like it was on fire. Once he had the pile sorted and ready, he just sat and stared at it. So close, but how do I start it? I have nothing, no flint, no rope.

  The witch winced in pain, and raised her arm. A flash of red light shot from her fingertips and raced to the wood. In an instant, the wood ignited and crackled to life. Max looked between the sudden fire and the witch. More magic, never in all my days have I seen such displays. Now today, far too many to count.

  Max sat back against the stone and let the heat radiate over him. It was painful at first, as the blood rushed to his extremities. He reached his hands out and watched steam rise from his tunic as the heat pulled the moisture from his clothes. He pulled a few more pieces onto the fire. Silence settled over the two as they both stared at the flames.

  Miranda’s shoulders started to relax; a tension left her body that was with her since he met her that morning on his farm.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “For pulling me out of the water.”

  Max was almost stunned. It was the first nice thing she had said to him all day. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

  “Yes well, we aren't out of the woods yet,” he said, trying to sound stoic. “Let’s just hope they don't see the fire.”

  Snap!

  Max’s heart froze. He turned his head slowly to the entrance of the outcropping.

  Standing there, framed by the dark, was a man. He was soaked to the bone and mud smeared across his face. The man stepped into the light. Dorin.

  He stared past Max and Miranda like they weren't people, just a payday. “They laughed at me but they didn't see. Little heads bobbing in the water.”

  He unhooked his weapon from his belt, a spiked flail. The ball rattled the chain as he swung it back and forth. He smiled at them with yellow rotting teeth.

  “All the reward for me.”