Even separated from them, Letter blood has a special connection to its owner. A Letter is aware of every drop, whether spilled or pulsing through their veins. Something inside them feels it more deeply than a simple thought or a sensation. They feel the rhythm of their own hearts trembling in their blood and that of the hearts of those their blood has entered. And for this reason, Aysel felt every beat of the woman's pierced heart as she killed her.

This was worse than seeing death, or mourning it. This was like dying herself. Tears rolled unnoticed down her cheeks as the woman struggled to stay conscious even as Aysel's spike drove deeper and deeper into her chest. She could feel the desperate flutter of her heart as it tried to beat, like a bird trying to fly on a broken wing. Her body was frantically trying to repair and protect her even as she fell to her knees, then to her elbows, her eyes staring sightlessly into the pool of blood she had created. Aysel saw and felt as she collapsed into it. And then, in a few terrible moments more, she was gone.

Aysel fell to the ground, shaken and physically shaking. That had never happened with the rabbits or elg she had hunted, or the sheep she had helped slaughter in the fall. This was something new, disturbingly so. She knew that this death, the death of another being, was different and more significant than that of a beast.

"Mmm..." someone moaned. Aysel raised her head from her hands. Some of those tied up and ready for slaughter were stirring, awoken by the sudden splash of blood from the woman who would have killed them.

One of them raised his pale head, which now dripped blood, and turned towards her. The flash of red-tinged gold at his throat made him instantly recognizable. "Enrick!" Aysel stood and hurried over to him, and drawing still more blood from her wrist, severed his ties.

As soon as he was free he scrambled away like a scared animal. It took a moment of staring at her with wide, yellow eyes for him to realize who she was. "Aysel," he said, his voice hoarse. "You came to find me."

"Dunyasha realized you were in trouble," she explained, her voice and her hands still shaking. "You can't save my brother if you're dead." Enrick glanced at the others, and Aysel added, "We're here to save everyone. Help me with the ropes."

He did, slowly. He seemed to be hurt, but Aysel was busy convincing dozens of People that she wasn't going to skin them at the moment.

"It's okay," she said soothingly to one. "I'm going to free you."

"Lying Letter," they spat back. "Get your accursed blood away from me."

"Leave them, Aysel," Enrick said. "Don't rescue them if they don't want to. It's obvious they'd much rather a Letter who hasn't had a change of heart skin them."

They fell silent after that, and suspiciously watched as Aysel cut the rest of their ropes.

Aysel and Enrick has managed to free everyone still alive without any Letters stumbling upon their rescue mission. The group of them, around twenty-five in total, watched impatiently as Aysel rubbed her fingers over her now quite sore wrist and then on the ground. The circle was broken.

They all swarmed out and scattered. "We'll break the other circle," Enrick said in a hurried, hushed voice. "You just run, and don't get caught."

Some of them nodded their thanks to him, but most of them took one last, frightened look at Aysel and ran off.

"And now it's our turn," Enrick said, walking quickly and pulling Aysel along by her uninjured wrist. "Almost every Letter left— Dunyasha's doing?" She nodded. "Well, she bought us time but not much. We need to get out of this camp and away from here before they come back and try to skin us both."

They ran through the camp and thankfully met no one but the People they had rescued, and eventually made it to the circle encompassing the camp. Aysel stopped Enrick. "Once I break this, the people who made it will know. We'll have to run." She could feel her weak, tired legs buckling under her, and decided it was time to swallow her pride. "I'll need you to carry me."

He grinned, the blood in his hair making his already twisted face seem even more monstrous. "You've changed a lot, little Letter, haven't you?" He winked at her. "What did you and Dunya do while I was gone?"

She broke the circle with a scowl at him, and unfortunately ruined the effect a bit by falling to her knees as she canceled the power of the circle. Enrick chuckled and hoisted her onto his back. "Can you hold on, little Letter?"

"Don't call me that," she said, tightening her arms around his neck (though unfortunately not enough to strangle him).

He laughed again— apparently back to his old self— and took off running.

There were a few narrow escapes from Letters as they wandered the wood, looking for a sign from Dunyasha, but it seemed Aysel had already used up her hyperventilation and racing heartbeats. And her blood, of course, had been drawn and drawn again in a very short amount of time. It hadn't been very long since she had set out to rescue Enrick, Aysel realized; the sun had just now reached its highest point in the sky. She dedicated the little strength she had to not falling off.

"Aysel," Enrick whispered. "I think we found Dunya." Enrick unceremoniously prodded her with a foot where she had apparently fallen asleep. This struck Aysel as odd; Dunyasha was far too vigilant to pass out in the open like that. "Wake up."

She moaned. "Enrick?"

He grinned. "A sight for sore eyes, aren't I? Bet you're glad you rescued me."

She grunted and pulled herself to her feet. "I'm delighted," she said flatly. Enrick flashed her another grin and started walking with Aysel still clinging on.

"I bet you're also delighted you're not in charge anymore. We all know how much you hate that," he said in a mock-sympathetic voice. There had to be done kind of a joke here, but Aysel didn't get it. Maybe Dunyasha didn't either, because she said nothing.

Enrick continued, "As leader, I'm deciding that I want us all to live, so we're leaving this Letter-infested dump of a mountain. I got what I came for," he said, cryptically parting one of the pockets in his sleek but bloody cloak. "We'll have to go to the sea. If they've taken Beyrn, they've taken every other settlement on the coast."

Aysel felt his shoulders tense as only silence answered again. "Dunya, are you okay? You haven't said anything for awhile. I thought it was impossible for you to shut up about all the things I'm doing wrong."

Enrick turned back to look at her just in time for him and Aysel to see Dunyasha sway on the spot and fall on her face in the snow.

"Dunya!" Enrick cried out, dropping Aysel without a second thought and hurrying over. Aysel found her feet and followed him. "What's wrong? Your head?"

She moaned and shut her eyes tight. "I'm fine. Keep moving."

"You're not fine," Aysel chimed in, noting the deep cuts across her snout and the gash marring her hairline. "Let me take a look—"

"No! No blood," she groaned. She crossed her arms over her stomach. "I'm okay. Let Enrick help me."

But Aysel was already pulling back Dunyasha's arms and her fur overcloak to peek at whatever she was hiding. What she saw made her gasp: her entire lower torso was soaked in blood. With a flash she remembered the girl whose neck Dunyasha had snapped driving spike after spike into her stomach. Aysel had been so preoccupied with her and the other boy's death, she hadn't even noticed how badly Dunyasha had been injured.

She got only a peek before Dunyasha yanked the overcloak to cover herself again. "I'm fine," She snarled. But Aysel knew she wasn't. Her yellow eyes were unfocused and her voice, usually so cutting, was wavering. "We need to hurry. If Letters find us..." she trailed off, either because she didn't need to complete the thought or because she was too weak to finish.

Enrick noticed this too, and turned to Aysel. "I can't fix this, not completely and not now," he said. "But your blood can help her."

"No!" Dunyasha protested. "I don't want... not inside me. Too close." She was fading fast.

So, for that matter, so was Aysel. She had already pushed herself past the limit; fighting Letters, breaking circles, and freeing the trapped People had taken their toll on her body. If she took much more blood, she'd fall unconscious.

Enrick fixed his weird, intense gaze on her. "Aysel, trust me, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I need you to heal her."

"I..." Her head was already swirling. "I've given too much. My river will dry."

"Aysel, please," Enrick begged. Aysel marveled at that; she had never thought someone as arrogant as Enrick would ever beg a Letter for anything. "I know you've done so much for me already, but she needs you. Without you, she might die."

Slowly, she nodded. "I'll try." Her hands reached out for Dunyasha's cloak and pulled it open. Her fingers stumbled down as she undid the clasps of layer after layer, until she could see the wounds. She realized that dozens of other scars littered her skin, deep and shallow; the white, raised tissue striped her stomach, her ribs, her small breasts. These new injuries pushed those out of her mind, however. It was if someone had dug a hole deep into the muscle of her stomach. The flesh around it was torn and angry, and it twisted her skin and the line of dark hair running from between her breasts to below the start of her trousers.

Enrick's face paled. "Stars, that's bad. Someone screamed in the distance. "You can fix her, right? Quickly?"

"Of course." But not without nearly draining myself, she mentally added.

"M'fine," Dunyasha muttered.

"Lie back," Aysel told her, as gently as she spoke to her brother. "I'm going to fix you." And she slowly drew the healing blood from her wrists.

Dunyasha shuddered as the new blood entered her body, healing her tissues with every beat of Aysel's heart. Her eyes began to regain their cunning light. Aysel's, however, were fluttering closed. Enrick caught her as she slumped over. Whatever she had done for Dunyasha would have to do.

"Dunya. How are you feeling?" Enrick asked. His voice sounded strangely muddled in Aysel's head.

"I told you I didn't want her blood." Dunyasha's voice was sharp and cutting; Aysel dreamily thanked the Ancient Ones for helping her work her healing. "Stars, is she okay? What's she muttering about?"

"No time to figure it out," Enrick replied. "We need to get moving. It's only a matter of time until they find us." Enrick hoisted Aysel off the ground. "I'll carry her."

"Let me. I owe it to her." Aysel felt herself being passed into Dunyasha's strong arms. Voices rang out, but Aysel's mind was too disorganized to glean any information other than that the voices were close. "We'll need to run."

"So let's run."

Aysel was too exhausted to protest when Dunyasha loaded her onto her back and wrapped some of the braided hide rope around her to secure her. As they started off, the voices grew louder, but soon faded in the distance. She felt the thumping rhythm of Dunyasha's run only vaguely, as if in a dream. The hair running down the back of her neck tickled Aysel's cheek like the wind brushing over her, calming as a lullaby. There, on the back of someone she had once thought was her greatest enemy, she fell asleep.

The first thing she noticed when she awoke was the lack of Dunyasha's hair on her face. She missed it. Despite looking stiff and coarse, the dark hair that made up Dunyasha's mane was as soft as the silky marten pelt with which her mother had lined her childhood mittens.

"Damn it all. How does she do this so easily?" someone asked beside her.

Aysel opened her eyes. She was in a cave, it seemed, but it was also somehow familiar. It was only when she realized the strange hushing noise echoing in from the mouth of the cave was the sound of snow falling into tree branches. A subtle sound, to be sure, but she knew it well. They were back in the valley.

Enrick was beside her, rubbing sticks together over a pile of dried needles and cold coals. "Oh, good, you're awake." He tossed the sticks over his shoulder. "Can you help me get this damned fire lit again? If Dunya finds out I let it die she'll kill me."

Instead, Aysel sat up and asked, "Where are we?"

"A day's hard walk south of Beyrn." His eyes glinted in the cool light drifting in from the mouth of the cave. "We're safe now, thanks in part to you."

Her heart cracked open, spilling out the memories of the horrible thing she had done to save her companion. She was a killer. She had taken a life. The realization ached even more than the deep slash across her wrist, which was bound tight with Enrick's signature uneven but effective bandages.

Enrick went back to rubbing the sticks, though his yellow eyes still watched her closely. "You were out a long time, didn't even wake up when I wrapped your arm. Dunyasha thought you could use the sleep."

"That was kind of her," Aysel murmured. "Where is she?"

"Keeping watch, of course. Even after you healed her, she wasn't in a good way, but insisted on standing guard anyway. I fixed her up the best I could and let her do what she will. Tried to fix you, too," he said. "You'll heal, but the scars will be nasty."

"To Letters, scars are an honor," she said. "A sign of generosity and strength."

"To the People they're just a sign that something awful happened to you," he replied with the hint of a sigh in his voice. "And speaking of that... thanks."

"Don't thank me."

"Why not? You saved my life."

"By taking one," she answered, the anger in her voice directed both at him and at herself. "I killed a Letter. I drove my blood into her heart and watched as she died."

"You did what you had to do."

"No!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Her anger welled up and spilled out of her as bitter tears. "I did what a killer does. I took a life without thinking, without looking for any other choices. I'm no better than--"

"Than who? The ones who captured me? The ones who were going to murder me?" He stood swiftly and stared steelily down at Aysel. She shrunk back; it was the first time she had seen him look as serious as Dunyasha. "You're better than them because you killed with a purpose. You saved innocent lives, Aysel, by killing the person who would have taken them! You're better than them because you actually see the people you kill as people, instead of things or animals! You're better because you feel guilty about it! You're better because you have a fucking soul!" He stopped, breathing heavily. "I didn't think Letters had souls, but here you are to prove me wrong."

"You didn't let me finish," she said quietly. "That's not what I was going to say."

"Oh?" He put his hands on his hips. "And what were you going to say?"

"I'm no better than Dunyasha."

"You're right," a new voice said loudly, echoing off the walls of the cave. Aysel slowly turned, knowing already it was Dunyasha who was there. She stood near the entrance, her hands on her hips. "Enrick, why don't you keep watch outside?" she suggested, though her tone made clear it wasn't a suggestion. "I have some things to say to Aysel."

Enrick eyes flashed, but he nodded his head demurely. And with that Enrick backed out of the room, leaving Aysel and Dunyasha alone but for the sound of snow outside.