Davery

The sickening smack echoed off the clay buildings in the near-silent square. My breath caught in my throat, and I immediately looked to my hotheaded sister. Sly had a glow to the fury in her eyes, and a white-knuckled grip on her blade. I looked down to see her boots slide shoulder-width apart.

"Don't, Sly," I hissed. I put my good hand over hers and she tensed.

She looked at me, visibly upset. "But-"

"Don't." I put a little more pressure on her hand, and after a long span and several pounding heartbeats she clicked the knife back in her belt. I stifled a sigh.

Crack. My whole body flinched with the sound. In the square ahead of us was a city guard, and on the ground by him was a bloodied young man.

"Sorry, Davery," Sly said. Her angry green eyes met my pleading gaze, and she tore her hand from my grasp and ran off.

"Shit," I hissed, cursing myself for sending Jexa home.

I glanced over to Marak, he was seething at the scene before us. Another hothead when it came to the brutality of the guards, but one who didn't have the skills to back himself up like Sly did.

"Go home Marak." I instructed.

At first I thought the old man would argue, but Marak nodded sadly and hobbled away with his cane. The look on his face stung my heart, but I could make it up to Marak later. Right now I needed all of my attention for my bull-headed sister.

With Marak gone, I chased after Sly. I found her familiar faded blue tunic at the back of the crowd easily. I put a hand on her shoulder to let her know I was there.

"He's beating that boy." Sly hissed, eyes on fire. I cringed. That guard could have done anything but beat that boy with one of those gods damned sticks and it would be easier to talk her down from her rage.

"You don't know what he did," I whispered. "We can't step in, you can't show your face here and you know that. For all you know this boy is a murderer or a thief."

Her eyes flashed at me wildly. Alright, a thief was a bad choice of words.

"That doesn't make it right." She strained against the hand I still had on her shoulder.

"No." I gritted my teeth. "It doesn't. But you can't get caught. If you get stuck in one of those cages and they see your tattoo we may never be able to get you out again."

I squeezed her, pleading silently for some common sense to take over.

"We can get him help if they take him to the cages," I reasoned.

"But not before he's a bloody puddle," she whispered.

Sly watched the guard raise his stick again, and-

CRACK.

She lost it. My sister was gone from my reach.

I'd heard it too, the snap of bone that stuck in his throat, drying his mouth. It was enough to briefly relive the day I nearly lost my right hand.

Sly ripped her shoulder from my grasp and dropped her stance low, ducking out of view behind the crowd of onlookers before us and hiding from sight of the guard.

"I won't stand by and watch a beating this brutal," she hissed.

She looked so small in her tunic, but I knew she wasn't a child anymore. She could take care of herself now, she didn't need her big brother to coddle her anymore.

"Fine." I stepped away, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. "But I'm helping, don't be an idiot. What's your plan?"

Her eyes darted from the display in the square, to my belt, to my face.

"What are you-"

"Run," she demanded and pulled the knife from her sheath. After a second's thought, she grabbed the blade from my belt too, and sprinted off.

"Hey!" I growled after her. "You stubborn brat!"

I ran my fingers through my hair. When had taking care of her become so difficult? She slipped through the bodies in the gathered crowd and I lost sight of her.

If she thought being unarmed would stop me from helping, she was wrong. I stalked in the opposite direction, prepared to get around the other side of the crowd and maybe catch her. If I watched carefully, I could see her mass of curls popping up every few seconds to eye the boy's position to the guard.

"Shadow help me I'm going to strangle you when we get home," I muttered under my breath.

Spotting her on a long pause as she watched the guard standing over the boy, I watched anxiously as she stopped and seemed to think.

Come on, Sly, you don't have time for this. If you insist on being part of the team, you have to learn to make quick decisions. What is your move going to be?

The mob of people watching were disheartened. Another bloody street. Another mongrel doling out pain. Sly moved again. Just enough that I could see her new position across the square.

The brute with the stick had it raised over his head, ready to hammer it down again on an already subdued victim. I hardened my heart to the incoming sound of the strike.

"What did he do?"

Sly's clear voice rang through the quiet square, demanding an answer.

The guard's head snapped to the sound, looking around for who could have spoken out against him. But she was already gone, behind a different part of the crowd entirely. Murmurs drew sound back into the square.

"He's a conspirator against the King. The next person to yap joins him on the blocks." The guard roared at the gaunt faces around him and raised his wooden beater again.

I snorted a soft laugh. Conspirator against the king, their favorite non-answer.

"No trial, no blood!" She yelled from a new point. A few heads around her bobbed in agreement, but most stepped away from her in fear. She slipped in front of another family as the guard turned her way.

"Sly, you beautiful, bold idiot." I grinned, waiting to see where she popped up next.

"Who was that?" The guard said coldly. My heart pounded. He saw exactly what she was doing. She was going to fight him with a crowd rallied on her side. Even if they didn't fight with her, they would call out traps and throw things at the guard.

And I didn't need a knife to help her with that.

I pulled a black hood from my belt and drew it low over my face. Rolling up my sleeve, I exposed the black dagger crudely tattooed on my forearm. I startled a young woman next to me and she gasped, eyes wide. If she lives in Swamp, there was a good chance the black daggers have helped her or someone she knows. Now, would that be enough to hold her tongue?

I held a finger to my lips and she nodded agreement. I nearly sighed in relief, but there was no time. I moved on to a better spot.

"No trial no blood!" I called, and slipped away. A few more eyes drifted to me in my wake. I flashed my tattoo again before ducking to another part of the square, hoping it would earn favor for what we were doing.

"I have no problem doling out a beating to both of you!" The guard roared.

"No trial no blood!" Sly called again. I grinned as I slid next to several large men, my heart pounding.

"No trial no blood!" An older voice called from where I had just been.

With every new voice, the guard stepped closer and closer to parts of the crowd. Waving his beat stick at the crowd as he gestured.

I called out again, and was echoed from somewhere else by a woman with a broad Linmead accent. Just when the mongrel drew too close for comfort to an old man, Sly jumped out of her hiding spot. Thankfully, she had slipped her own black hood on and obscured her face.

"No trial no blood." Sly had stepped out of the crowd, looking calm enough on the outside but I knew my sister. Under that hood, her heart was pounding. Just as mine was right now.

The guard growled and walked towards her, shoving his beater in his belt and drawing a blade.

I pushed forward a step and reached for my knife... which Sly had stolen.

"Shadow pox it, you cheeky snake," I hissed, straining to watch my sister who only stood as high as the mongrel's shoulders. He was older, heavier, taller, and had more years of training than Sly, and I was unarmed and unable to step in.

"What was my offense?" she demanded, her voice ringing through the square.

"No trial no blood!" someone called from behind her. She glared at the guard, letting her feet slide apart, just as Dirk had taught her. And all I could do was watch with bated breath.

"Shut it!" the guard ordered and took one step too close to her. Sly shot forward and slashed at his belt. Her knife bit through the leather and raked against the chain rings of his armor underneath.

"Oh, gods," I moaned. "Don't make the first strike, Sly."

His weapons clattered to the ground with a defiant echo and his tabard flew freely, letting his chainmail shine in the low sun. When she cut his belt, she took away most of his weapons.

With nothing left but the dagger in his hand, he flew at her with a snarl. He was too slow. She sidestepped him and several in the crowd were now yelling at the guard. At least that much of the plan had worked. They had to move back to avoid being pulled into the conflict as Sly rounded on the brute, placing herself between him and the boy. The smell of blood was pungent.

"Yer as dead as he is, girlie." The guard grunted and swung again. Sly blocked it, barely, but the impact shuddered through her bones as she tried to absorb the blow. Muscles strained, and her left boot slid just a bit in something wet. The boy's blood. There was no way she could keep fighting a trained guard in this close of combat. He was bigger and stronger and unafraid to gut her in front of two hundred people.

"No trial no blood!" yelled someone to the right. Sly swallowed hard, they were close enough to share a hot breath. They were too close, but if she wanted to save the boy...

"She needs a distraction," I hissed, my eyes darting all over for something I could use. When I spotted the cut belt and the knives on the ground. I grinned, pushing between bodies as I lunged for the nearest weapon with my good hand and-

Crack!

The guard took the blow hard. Those beaters are brutal, after all. I dropped it the moment I had hit him and backed away. Normally I wouldn't have worried about keeping it, but the only ones who carry those damn things are the mongrels, and it would bring a lot of unwanted questions to my doorstep.

I met Sly's eyes under the shadow of her hood. Shock registered on her face for a brief second before her eyes moved off of me and onto the guard.

"No!" Sly croaked. I tensed, readying myself for whatever it was that Sly had seen and cried out about.

The guard recovered with a growl deep in his throat and kicked at her. His boot hit her stomach and knocked the wind out of her, a move she wasn't expecting at all and it threw her backward into a bloody puddle.

She inhaled a bellyful of air, a hand flying to her chin where she had been struck earlier that day. Splatters of sticky warm blood flicked onto her as she slid on the ground.

With Sly down, the guard rounded on me. But I was faster, and I slipped into the welcoming crowd who moved around to conceal my escape. Rushing to a new place, I readied myself to help Sly again.

"No trial no blood!" Another yell from somewhere behind her. The guard picked up the beater in his free hand and turned to Sly again.

A wet cough in the square told me the boy was still alive at least. A miracle considering the amount of blood he had lost, if it was even all his.

Sly was speaking to the boy now, but not loud enough for me to hear and she never took her eyes off the guard approaching with a disgusting smile on his lips. The boy only grunted his response.

"No trial no blood!" The yelling grew around us.

Sly said something to him again, her words completely lost over the anger of the crowd now. The hulking guard lifted his beat stick over her, the shadow falling across her face as he sneered at her.

"Once I'm done with you I'm going to tear this square apart. My captain is offering five crowns for traitors, and as far as I'm concerned everyone here is fair game!" He chuckled as he hovered near Sly, her light bronze face paled to chalk. "That's right, lass, five crowns."

Five crowns?

"Sly, move!" I called, but she was frozen and couldn't hear me.

Damnit! I ran for a closer position, cupping my hands over my mouth and yelling a little louder. "Move!"

That seemed to snap her out of it.

She still appeared to be on her back, but she was propped up on her elbows and ready to roll out of the way. I'd seen Dirk do this plenty of times, and I watched, hoping she had learned his lessons well.

She let the guard hover closer, then struck. She kicked with everything she had at his shins, his stance wasn't solid enough and he made to fall forward, but she caught his weight with her feet and arms and threw him hard to the side.

He hit the ground, the sound of him smacking against the brick square turned my stomach. I watched as Sly rolled upright and heaved the bloody boy into a sitting position, flinging his arm across her back. She stood with a grunt and sprinted as best she could out of the square.

"Sly, you're mad!" I grunted and chased after her.

The people of Swamp were roaring. The crowd closest to her opened enough to let her drag the boy away, and then covered her tracks as they had for me before, letting me slip in after her before they closed their wall of bodies to the guard. The shuffling of feet wiped dripping blood into the bricks, hiding the trail. As Sly passed, the people helped lift the boy's weight along, speeding up her retreat.

As soon as we were free from the crowd, I drew even with her and put part of the boy's weight on my shoulder.

"You're mad, do you know that? My sister is mad and needs a priest," I grumbled.

"Where to?" she asked, ignoring me.

"You ran off with no idea where to go?" I asked in disbelief. "For the love of Sage... Okay, fine. Let's find Orchid."

"Right," she panted.

We took a sharp left and a grunt met our ears.

"Hold on, three more blocks," she breathed, and with everything we had left, we ran.