They peered up at her, lost souls, thin and pale. A mason and his wife. Their five children, their eyes huge in their gaunt faces. Cursed. Diseased. Or maybe blessed.

Weredragons, we call them, Issari thought. The name of monsters. But if they are monsters, so is my family. So are my exiled sister and my dead mother. So is my brother, imprisoned in the tower. She reached down a hand to help the family rise. To me they are simply souls to save.

"We will walk quickly," she said. "We will head straight to the port. The ship will take you north to the cold, barbarian lands. I don't know what awaits you there. I don't know how or where you will live. But you will be free. You will start a new life." Her eyes stung. "Nobody will hunt you there."

The family stood up, shivering.

"But there are demons outside!" said the youngest child, a girl with tangled brown hair. "They can smell us. They smelled my grandmother's magic." Tears welled up in her eyes. "They ate her."

Issari knelt and embraced the girl. "My amulet will protect you. I will protect you." She kissed the girl's forehead. "You will be brave."

The girl nodded. Issari smiled but trembled on the inside. What if the demons spared her but slew the family? What if the amulet's power could not overcome their lust for weredragon blood? She tightened her lips and began to climb out of the cellar. She had no choice. She had to risk this. The demons had already invaded the pottery shop's ground floor; during the next raid they might find the cellar.

I must lead these people to the sea, and they must sail north. This kingdom is death.

As they stepped outside the pottery shop, the family blinked in the sunlight, momentarily blinded after long days in the dark. The youngest child whimpered and clung to Issari.

"I will be brave," the girl whispered. "I will be brave like you."

They walked down the street, moving slowly, barely daring to breathe. White columns rose around them, and a palm tree grew from a ring of stones, swaying in the wind. The sun was bright, the sky azure. Trails of demon drool gleamed upon the street. Drawings covered houses' walls—some depicted the sigils of the gods, wards against evil drawn by the city folk, while others were demon creations painted in blood, depicting demons devouring the heads of men, tearing off children's limbs, and mating with women. Issari held the child's hand, and the rest of the family walked behind her, their footfalls soft.