As her gaze darted about, searching for any sign of them, the cottage door burst open and a large figure came tumbling out, crashing to the ground and rolling into a heap. An angry, hungry fireball exploded behind them.
Connall.
And in his arms, he held Agnes’s frail form.
No, she thought.NO! This is not happening!
She ran to them alongside several townspeople who’d seen the blast. Two large men rolled an unconscious Connall over and dragged him beyond the reach of the fire’s fury. Hazel ran for Agnes, scooping underneath her arms and attempting to pull her away, but she was not strong enough. A rough hand landed on her shoulder and patted, gently telling her to move aside. Reluctantly, she did, and a third man dragged Agnes to safety beside Connall.
Breathing. They were both breathing, thank the gods. And they were out of immediate danger, though the growing blaze was putting off searing, singeing heat that threatened to melt the flesh from their bones if they stayed there much longer. She looked over her shoulder at the burning cottage in time to seepart of the roof collapse, sending a column of smoke and ash and embers into the night sky.
Someone behind her broke into a fit of coughing, and Hazel turned to find Connall rolling to his side, trying to sit up. He was coughing fitfully, unable to catch his breath, reaching for her.
“Hazel,” he rasped, “You came.”
A sob escaped her throat as she ran to him, dropping to her knees and helping him sit up. “Of course I came, Pa. I came as soon as I could. Shh, don’t speak.” She turned, frantically looking for help.Where is Slaide?“Water! Please someone bring us some water!” she shouted to anyone who would listen.
A woman jogged over with a waterskin and offered it to them. “It’s only about half full, but?—”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Hazel cut her off, tipping the waterskin to Connall’s mouth and pouring the water in a little at a time. He coughed and gagged at first but was able to take a few mouthfuls.
“Agnes…” he managed. Hazel looked over her shoulder at Agnes’s unmoving form.
“She’s going to be alright, but only if we get her out of here. There’s a mob coming.”
His eyes widened as if in realization, transforming into something hard and unmovable.
“Stay right here,” she said, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere fast, but understanding that Connall Callahan was not one to be deterred by much, not even a brush with death.
She rushed to Agnes, where a woman was tending to a gash on her cheek. Another laceration stretched the length of her left eyebrow, her bottom lip was blistered and split, her hair was singed, and her forearms were covered in blistering, bubbling burns, flesh completely lost in places. The amount of pain she had to be in was overwhelming to think about. But she wasbreathing, and she was being tended to.Now to get everyone out of here before…
Her planning was interrupted by thundering hooves and the shouting of men. She looked up to see torchlights glowing in the distance. It was too late. Agnes’s burning home had served as a beacon for their exact location, and the mob had arrived. They would have to make a stand.
As the mob approached,the townspeople did something unexpected: they prepared to fight. Hazel had never seen this kind of mentality from them before. What was usually “every man for himself” had suddenly become “no man stands alone” as they set aside their water buckets for short swords, daggers, and pitchforks, abandoning the still-blazing cottage behind them.
Magnus brought the fight to one of their own, and they would go down swinging. Maybe the townspeople of Larksridge hadn’t been as complacent as she’d thought. But more than likely, this was Connall’s doing.
A grunt came from behind her, and Connall was climbing to his feet. He was remarkably unscathed, save for a few burns blistering his skin. His face was smeared with soot and ash, the corners of his eyes wet with tears from the heat and sting of the fire. But he was whole.
She sprinted for him, slamming into him as she wrapped her arms around his body as much as she could. He stutter-stepped sideways, catching her and hugging her tight.
“Oh, my girl,” he said. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She pressed her head into his chest, tears streaking down her cheeks. This was all she had wanted.Thiswas home.
He looked down at her with warmth in his eyes, holding her away from him as though to look her over. “You’re alright, then?”
“Yes, Pa. As well as I can be considering everything.”
Concern overtook his face as he remembered where they were. The shouts of the mob grew closer.
“Pa, we need to get everyone out of here. They’re coming for her.” She glanced over to Agnes, who was still being tended to a safe enough distance from the blaze.
“Who are they? How did you know to come here?” he asked.Right. He has no idea what I’ve been doing this past week. What I’ve been through and seen.
“It’s a long story, but I promise I will tell you everything. For now all you need to know is that the High King has re-initiated sanctioned witch hunts. And they’re starting here, with her.” She thought about it for a moment. “Pa, how didyouknow to come here?”
“She told me,” he nodded toward Agnes. “Somehow she knew. I-I think she sees things we can’t, Hazel. She came and got me. Said she was in trouble and if I thought anyone might help, to bring them along.”
