The days went by. The day of the siege finally came.

  "SERVANT!" Leo shouted, standing in his room. "COME AND TIGHTEN THE ARMOR ON ME."

  The servant ran in, buckling the straps. "Yes, sir."

  "Sir... I have been meaning to ask you something."

  "Ask."

  "Can I... come with you?"

  Leo looked at him. "You are fighting against your own people.”

  “You have the Earth Mark."

  The servant tightened the last strap hard. "They weren't my people, my lord. My mother was a slave, sir.”

  “I was born of force, not love. I have fought my whole life just to exist... but now?”

  “Now I can take my place."

  Leo looked at the man.

  "Okay," Leo said. "But you are still my servant." He grinned.

  "Who else is going to bake me such good cookies if you die?"

  The servant smiled. "Thank you, sir."

  "WELL, TIGHTEN THE ARMOR! WILL YOU TALK ALL DAY?!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  They gathered on the field. The armies of the Glass People had grown smaller.

  5,000 were lost in the first siege.

  None were added. But the ones who remained?

  They weren't civilians anymore. They were experienced soldiers.

  "Hey, Merk," Leo said, riding up on his camel. "Should we go?"

  Merk rolled his eyes. "We were waiting for you for an hour, man.”

  “We are at war.”

  "Sorry," Leo shrugged. "Was wearing the armor. It's tight."

  "Yeah, whatever."

  Ruther rode up to them. "Leo. Merk," he commanded. "I want you to finish the castle in three hours."

  Leo scoffed. "Two hours is good." He looked at Merk. "Want to play a game?"

  Merk checked his sword. "What is it?"

  "Let's see who will kill more."

  Merk smiled. "You're on."

  "I leave you all to what you are doing," Ruther said.

  He turned his camel toward the cliff overlooking the valley.

  "We will be waiting for you, Ruther!" Leo shouted after him.

  Merk slapped the back of Leo's head. "Are you stupid? He will be waiting for us."

  Leo rubbed his head.

  He looked at the army of 10,000 men waiting for a command. "Anyway," Leo muttered to Merk.

  "I should give a speech or something. Right?"

  Merk smirked. "Go ahead, 'King'."

  Leo rode his camel to the front. He took a deep breath.

  "THE WAR HAS COME, MY MEN!" Leo roared. "AND WE SHALL HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR!"

  "DEATH IS OUR FRIEND! AND WE GIVE IT AS A GIFT TO THE ENEMY!"

  He drew his sword. It gleamed in the sun.

  "WHY SHOULD WE FEAR IT?" Leo screamed, pointing the blade at the castle.

  "OUR SWORDS ARE SHARP! AND THEIR NECKS ARE SOFT!"

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The army roared, a sound of pure bloodlust.

  "SO, ROAR, MY MEN! LET US KILL THEM AS IF THEY ARE FLIES!"

  Merk smiled, raising his axe. "YOU HEARD THE MAN! LET US MASSACRE THEM!"

  "CHARGE!" Merk screamed.

  "CHARGE!" Leo echoed.

  The camels charged, their long legs eating the distance, grunting and spitting foam as they ran.

  High on the wall, the Warchief watched. "They have come," the General said.

  "So," the Warchief smirked. " They have taken the bait.”

  “We shouldn't fire yet. We should hold until the aid comes."

  He leaned over the battlements. "Let them take the bait... until the hook is in their throats."

  They started closing on the castle. The arrows rained down, bouncing off the camel shields.

  Some men died. But the numbers were low. Ten, maybe twenty.

  "NOW!" Leo shouted. "STOP! SHIELD YOURSELVES, MY MEN!"

  The army halted. They raised a wall of steel. "I think this is a good distance," Leo said.

  He pulled out the shard of glass Ashley gave him. "She said this one would work much fas—"

  He smashed it on the ground.

  The sky above them shattered like a window.

  The rift opened at ground level.

  The heavy timber wheels of the Catapult rolled out, groaning under the weight.

  The Warchief's eyes went wide. "What..."

  "LOAD IT, MEN!" Merk roared.

  "Make a wall of men!" Leo commanded. "Protect the device!"

  The arrows rained harder.

  Men died loading the stone.

  But as one died, another stepped into his place instantly. The machine did not stop.

  "It's done, General!"

  "THEN FIRE!"

  The massive stone flew. It didn't hit the gate.

  It hit the River’s opening.

  The earth erupted. A massive crack appeared in the stone wall.

  The archers looked.

  The water from the river started to spray out.

  "FIRE AGAIN!"

  The wall groaned. It made a sound like an old door moving, but louder a thousand times.

  "FINAL SHOT!" Leo screamed.

  The third stone hit. The structural integrity failed.

  The massive stone wall collapsed like it was a tree cut by an axe.

  Archers fell screaming into the rubble. Others stood, staring at the hole in their fortress.

  Leo drew his sword. "CHARGE! TAKE THE CASTLE!"

  "THOSE SONS OF SLAVES!" The Warchief screamed. "FIGHT US LIKE MEN!"

  They ran. They closed the distance.

  "Archers!" The Warchief screamed from the rubble.

  "Why the heck have you stopped?! FIRE! RAIN ARROWS AT THEM!"

  The archers stood up, shaky, but it was too late.

  "LADDERS! NOW!" Leo commanded.

  The ladders slammed against the broken wall.

  "The count starts now, Merk!" Leo shouted, scrambling up.

  Defenders rushed to the wall. "Push them off!"

  They grabbed the tops of the ladders to shove them back.

  But the ends were coated in Shyn's poison.

  The moment the soldiers touched the wood, their hands started to dissolve.

  They screamed, falling back, looking at their melting fingers.

  Leo vaulted over the parapet. Merk landed beside him.

  "Two!" Leo shouted, cutting a man down.

  "Six!" Merk laughed, spinning his axe.

  "You son of a—" Leo roared, slashing wildly.

  The Warchief stood in the courtyard, rallying his men.

  He saw Leo coming. He drew his sword. " You dare challenge the War—"

  Leo didn't even slow down.

  He threw his dagger.

  It spun through the air and buried itself in the Warchief's skull.

  The Warchief fell.

  "Eight!" Leo shouted, grabbing his dagger back from the corpse.

  "Yo," Merk said, pausing. "That was the Warchief."

  "So?"

  "So... that counts as five points."

  "Fine," Merk grumbled. "Ten."

  They kept killing. Slashing. Competing.

  Until the remaining Captains threw down their weapons.

  "We surrender! We surrender!"

  Leo stopped, panting, covered in blood. "That easy?" He looked at Merk. "Anyway. Eleven."

  Merk wiped his axe. He grinned. "Thirteen, my friend."

  The Captains were on their knees, hands raised.

  Leo pointed his bloody sword at their throats.

  He looked at Merk. "Can I kill them?"

  Merk wiped his axe. "Killing surrendered soldiers?”

  “You are low, my friend. Even for you."

  "Don't call me low, you son of a—" Leo stopped.

  He sighed. "Anyway. SERVANT!"

  The servant ran up.

  He was wearing dented, blood-splattered armor.

  He had a sword at his hip. "Yes, sir?"

  He just pointed at his own chest.

  "Wipe the blood from my armor," Leo commanded, posing heroically over the defeated enemies.

  "It's sticky."

  The servant blinked. He looked at his own bloody hands, then at Leo. "Okay, sir."

  He sheathed his sword, pulled out a rag, and started polishing Leo's breastplate while the enemy captains watched and kept blinking.

  On the other side of the valley, atop a mountain cliff, Ruther stood.

  Shyn and Strang were beside him.

  They saw the flags fall. "They have won," Shyn said, lowering his spyglass.

  "Yeah," Ruther said.

  "That was..." He looked at his pocket sunclock. "...One hour and fifty-nine minutes."

  Ruther smiled. "He kept his word."

  "Real good for them," Strang mumbled.

  Ruther looked over.

  Strang was eating a cookie. "Really good baker, is that servant," Strang noted, chewing. "Leo was right."

  Ruther sighed. "Let's get ready. The trap is set."

  They waited. An hour. Two. Three. Five. Night fell.

  The valley below was pitch black. And nothing happened.

  "Should we... cook dinner?" Strang asked, breaking the silence.

  "I think..." Ruther muttered, staring into the dark. "They are playing for time."

  Ruther stood up. "Get your bows ready."

  "Why?" Strang asked. "We can't see them."

  "They are going to attack at midnight," Ruther said.

  "They want the cover of darkness." He looked at Shyn. "And I know a way to light the night."

  Shyn smiled. He reached for his special quiver.

  The oil-tipped arrows.

  But then Shyn hesitated.

  He looked down at the castle where Leo and Merk were holding the line.

  "But our men, Ruther," Shyn whispered. "If we start a fire... they are going to get burned."

  "No," Ruther said, stepping to the edge of the cliff. "We won't get down there, my friend.”

  “We stay up here."

  He pointed into the black void of the valley floor, where the enemy army was secretly gathering.

  "Those slaves think they can take the castle from us?" The Vice-Warchief. sneered, looking at the dark valley.

  "We are going to massacre the—"

  A flaming arrow slammed into the wood inches from his hand.

  "What the..." He looked up.

  The night sky was full of stars. But the stars were moving.

  They were getting closer. And closer.

  "WE ARE BEING ATTACKED!" he screamed. "GET YOUR SHIELDS UP!"

  On the cliff, Ruther blew his horn.

  Inside the castle walls, Leo was snoring.

  He was sleeping leaning against his own sword.

  Merk slapped him on the back of the head.

  "What the hell, Merk?!" Leo shouted, waking up. "I was dreaming about marrying the girl from the—"

  "You stupid," Merk hissed. "Ruther's horn has been blown. He is here."

  Leo rubbed his eyes. He looked up at the sky.

  He saw the lightning of the fire arrows streaking through the void.

  He smiled. "GET THE CATAPULT READY, MEN!"

  "Ruther was always smart, wasn't he?" Leo laughed.

  Back on the cliff. "Ruther," Shyn said, lowering his bow.

  "They aren't dying. We are wasting arrows here."

  "No," Ruther said, watching the castle. "We aren't."

  From inside the castle, the catapult broke the silence.

  The massive rock flew over the wall, arcing high into the night air.

  It crashed down into the tightly packed soldiers.

  Shields shattered. Bones crushed. The formation broke.

  "NOW!" Ruther roared. "FIRE AGAIN!"

  "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" a soldier screamed, throwing down his shield.

  "No!" The Vice-Warchief shouted, waving his sword. "GET BACK HERE!"

  An arrow appeared in his throat. He fell off his horse.

  Ruther lowered his Spyglass. He looked at Shyn. "Nice shot."

  The soldiers fled. Ruther blew his horn a second time.

  From the castle, the gates opened.

  Leo and Merk rode out on their camels, picking off the left flank of the fleeing army.

  "Oh, you aren't winning this time, Leo!"

  Merk shouted, kicking his camel into a gallop.

  "Watch me!" Leo roared.

  Above them, the night sky turned red.

  A Blood Moon hung on the horizon, watching the slaughter.

  The battle ended. The Generals gathered.

  "Now," Leo panted, wiping blood from his face. "The final count. twenty."

  "Not bad," Merk sneered. "For a coward. twenty-four."

  "What are you fighting for again?" Strang asked, walking up. "We were doing a count contest," Leo said.

  "Hm," Strang shrugged. "I think I killed twenty-eight."

  Leo's jaw dropped.

  "Thirty-two," Shyn said from the cliff edge, cleaning his nails.

  "My bow has a greater range than you lot."

  Leo looked around. “Ruther!" he shouted.

  "How many did you kill?"

  Ruther looked up from cleaning his sword. "Me? Four."

  Leo blinked. "Just four?"

  "Let me finish," Ruther said. "Forty-five.”

  He sighed. "My count got lower at the end. I knew you guys would be higher."

  The group went dead silent. "Ruther started earlier than us, I guess," Strang whispered.

  "He's the King, after all," Merk said.

  "Now that," Leo muttered, "is something I can't compete with."

  "Damn," Shyn said. "Just... damn."

  Ruther sheathed his sword.

  He looked toward the horizon. "The contest isn't done yet.”

  “Maybe for us it's done... but for Andree, it's just starting."

  [SOUND OF A CHAIR CRASHING]

  "WAIT! NO! HE IS GOING TO KIDNAP ME! HELP M—"

  [SILENCE]