Venn snared Finn’s arm and yanked him back before the heavy boot could connect. “Run!” Venn barked.
Sarah shrieked, a terrible piercing sound. Adrenaline flashed through Vera, flushing her body with heat and forcing back some of her fear. The instinct to protect overshadowed everything as she snatched Sarah’s hand and dove around one of the lunging men. An arm was braced over Rebecca as she whirled, her grip on Sarah’s hand strangling. “Finn?” Fates, where was he?
The men had swarmed Venn, and he didn’t have space to draw his sword. He had a knife, though, and she knew he was making good use of it when a choked cry cut into the night. He would try not to kill them, she knew—only stop them.
In between the struggling men, Vera caught sight of Finn as he darted around the fight, his knife still clutched in his hand and his face pale. He bolted after Vera, but tripped. He crashed to the ground, and when a man stepped on his hand, he cried out.
That sound of pain flared Vera’s need to protect. She ducked out of the sling and pressed Rebecca into Sarah’s small arms. “Get inside,” she ordered, and Sarah darted for the partially open inn door.
Vera ran for Finn, who was still on the ground on the edge of the fight. Before she could reach him, a man stumbled back from one of Venn’s blows and his booted heel clipped Finn’s shoulder. The boy flinched and curled into a ball, his body visibly shaking.
Vera grabbed his arm and hauled him up, using her own body to shield him as she shoved him toward the inn. “Go! Get—”
An elbow crashed into the back of Vera’s head, cutting off her words and throwing her forward. She staggered, lights flashing over her vision. Her ears rang while the ground beneath her seemed to pitch. She knocked into one of the men and he whipped around. The stench of ale on his breath hit her face in a hot, nauseating wave, and his knife swung toward her on reflex.
The blade flashed over her side.
The cut stung and blood rose. Her breath snagged.
“Vera!” Finn screamed.
She clutched her side, which was wet with blood. She was still dazed from the blow to her head. She peeked up at the man who had hurt her—saw shock flare in his eyes, followed quickly by horror.
Venn’s roar shook the ground. Or perhaps she was the one shaking? Regardless of the cause, she swayed, then dropped to her knees. One hand slapped the ground, keeping her from falling on her face. The pain radiating from her side was intense, a burn that flared hotter with every ragged breath. Fates, how deep had the blade gone?
Finn landed in front of her. He grabbed her shoulders, his small fingers digging in fiercely. “Vera? Vera!”
“Go,” she gasped. “Get inside.”
Finn didn’t move. His eyes were frantic, and they widened when he looked down at her side.
Distantly, she heard men cursing.
“You stabbed her?”
“It was an accident!”
“Run!”
Footsteps struck the cobbled street, fading fast.
Or perhaps it was Vera who was fading.
Finn’s face was replaced by Venn’s. His lower lip dripped blood and she could see a mark where he’d taken a blow to his cheek, but his focus was riveted on her.
Her palm ached as it braced against the ground beside her as she knelt. Her other hand was clamped over her side.
Venn grasped her tight hold. “Let me see,” he growled.
Her strength was no match for his, so he managed to pry her fingers away from the wound.
Venn inhaled sharply. “Finn, get help. We need a healer. Now!”
“I’ll find one!” a new voice shouted.
Vera frowned. It was a man’s voice. Oddly familiar.
Venn shot a look over her head. “Hurry!”
