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Once I’m on the upper level, I immediately work at my skirt’s ties, cursing them when they knot. As soon as I’ve loosened them and the underskirts, I quickly step out of the mass of fabric, trying not to dwell on my stockinged legs and the short bloomers that recently came into style in place of the previously preferred shifts and chemises. My grandmother says they’re scandalous, and maybe she’s right. At a time like this, however, freedom of movement is certainly more important than modesty.

With less bulk, I climb out of the window and into the tree, dangling precariously for several moments longer than I would like. Gritting my teeth, I drop to the lower branch, breathing a sigh of relief when I land safely.

After I’ve caught my balance, I scamper to another branch, hurrying around the perimeter of the tree as I try to find Henrik and the aynauth. Leaves and twigs swat me in the face and arms, but my focus is on my task.

Finally, I locate the monster. He’s still watching the birds, oblivious to our presence. Safely tucked in the canopy, far above the aynauth, I look for Henrik.

When the soldier spots me, he waves from behind a fallen wall and then creeps out, moving slowly toward the monster with his sword drawn.

I nock my bow, holding my breath. Watching. Waiting.

What’s Henrik doing?

It almost looks as if he’s going to…

I gasp when Henrik swings at the back of the monster’s leg, right above its foot. It only takes me a moment to realize the soldier strategically sliced a tendon.

The beast roars so loudly, the birds fly from the tree before he even hits the ground.

As he falls to his knees, the aynauth drops Pranmore on his head. I gasp as the elf lands like a ragdoll on the cobblestones.

Please let him be alive. Otherwise, this was all for naught.

Henrik darts for him even as the injured aynauth turns to search for his attacker.

“NOW!” Henrik yells as he drags Pranmore to safety.

I shoot as instructed, wondering if it’s possible to kill such a large beast with something as flimsy as an arrow.

I pierce the monster’s chest, and it roars again, this time turning back to the tree…and trying to locateme. Unable to stand, he crawls forward, looking terrifying as his large eye searches for the new threat.

Taking a deep breath, assuring myself he can’t reach me, I shoot again. Over and over, I release my arrows until my quiver is nearly empty.

I’m so consumed with my task, I don’t realize Henrik slunk around and scaled one of the aged walls near the aynauth.

In fact, I almost shoot the soldier when he leaps from the wall to the aynauth’s shoulders.

“Henrik!” I yell, helpless now that he has wrapped himself around the monster’s back. I don’t dare shoot.

The beast turns in circles on his knees, reaching his large arms over his shoulders, howling like a mad thing as he tries to dislodge Henrik.

From the edge of the square, Pranmore wakes. Rubbing his forehead, he sits up. Slowly, his eyes focus on the scene before him, and then his face contorts with horror as he yells, “Don’t hurt the creature!”

The moment the elf reveals his location, the aynauth whips his head around. As soon as he spots Pranmore, he crawls forward, propelling himself with his massive arms, building speed. Too close now, he roars, letting spittle fly and revealing wicked, sharp teeth.

Pranmore screams, throwing his hands over his face as if that will save him.

Just before reaching his prey, the monster throws back his head and lets out a gurgling howl. It echoes throughout the city, loud and horrifying.

I lower myself onto a branch, breathing hard. Henrik’s done it—he’s killed the beast.

The aynauth sways on his knees several times before he begins to topple over—looking as if he’s going to crush Henrik underneath him when he collides with the ground.

“HENRIK!” I scream, leaning too far forward…and losing my balance in the process.

Suddenly, I’m falling from the tree, and the ground is coming too quickly for me to even hope to catch myself.

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