As Sten subdued his man, another arrow flew from the forest. Sten swore loudly and took off for the tree line, no doubt after the archer, his thick, powerful legs pumping as he ran.

As Sten disappeared into the forest, another bandit emerged from the trees up the road and headed for Damien. Taegis was currently engaged in a fight, and Karl was even farther away.

Damien needed her help.

Selene dashed along the road, bypassing Damien, and met the man as he made his way along the dirt path. She stopped halfway between Damien and the approaching highwayman and repositioned her makeshift swords to have her right arm up and across her body, her left ready to swing.

The bandit stopped just outside her reach. “Move,” he snarled through the black cloth across his face, his green eyes narrowed. “Move and you won’t get hurt.”

Selene answered by standing still, ready to strike the moment he took another step.

His eyes crinkled as he studied her weapons and laughed. “You come at me with sticks?”

Selene remained motionless. Though his voice was muffled through the cloth, she thought she detected an unfamiliar accent.

His eyes narrowed again, and he gave out a shout. The moment he stepped forward, Selene swung her right sword down at an angle, catching his jaw with a powerful swing and ripping the cloth away from his mouth.

He staggered back, but she gave him no time to recover. She moved into the empty space and thrust her left stick hard into his gut, then swung her right stick across the other side of his face, sending his head flying in the other direction. Then she brought her leg up and kicked him in the same spot she had hit moments before with her left stick. The man stumbled back, one arm across his stomach as he moaned and spit up blood.

There was a shout behind her.

Selene spun around. Damien was hunched over, one hand on his thigh as he held his sword up to block an incoming hit from his opponent. Taegis was far away now, along the tree line, and Karl down the road.

Damien’s sword sagged and his face twisted in pain. The man prepared for another blow—

Breathing hard, Selene sprinted toward the bandit. As she approached, she suddenly jumped and rotated her body, using her momentum to swing her whole body around and bring both sticks in concussive cracks across the man’s neck. If the sticks had been her swords, she would have severed his head. Instead, he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Selene landed a few feet from Damien and gulped in a lungful of air. It was one thing to practice on a dummy, or her mother, or Amara, and quite another to actually fight. Adrenaline coursed through her body, but already her limbs were growing weary.

“I’ve been hit,” Damien said through clenched teeth as he clutched his leg. Sweat poured down his face. An arrow stuck out from his thigh, above the knee. It looked like it was lodged in the muscle. Still, it was a wound and—