The creatures were taller than any man Evin knew, and though they walked on two legs and held their axes in two muscular arms, they most certainly were not men. What parts of their bodies weren’t covered by piecemeal armor were instead covered by mangy, matted yellow fur.

Their heads hung low from the top of their wide torsos, their faces elongated into snouts like a dog’s or a wolf’s. Their ragged, pointed ears jerked around to catch the sounds of everything around them. Their sharp teeth and yellow eyes glinted, reflecting the flames.

There were dozens of the creatures, surely at least two for each villager who lived in Hesiod. They moved in twos and threes, grabbing and smacking the villagers over their heads, then dragging them north, beyond the burning village. Their cries were high pitched, nasal, and whining—a staccato and unnerving sound almost like mocking laughter.

The monsters weren’t eating the villagers. They were kidnapping them, Evin realized. Maybe there was hope. Maybe he and Jorick could stop the creatures and—

A growl sounded from beside Evin. He looked to his side just in time to see Jorick—the source of the growl—begin to run toward the monsters, his hands clenched into fists.

Evin dropped his useless, fake dagger and pumped his arms, running as fast as he could. His calves ached and his lungs burned, but Evin pushed himself through the pain. They had to get to the village. They had to save their families.

It felt like Evin had dived headfirst into an oven as they ran past the collapsing inn. The heat from the flames dried his skin, and smoke invaded his eyes, his throat. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, trying to make out through tear-blurred eyes which shadows were people and which were the horrifying monsters.

“Dad!” Jorick screamed. “Dad!” He darted back and forth beside Evin, tears making tracks down his soot-stained cheeks.

Evin’s heart thudded. He and Jorick moved deeper into the burning village, scanning for any signs of life. Most of the monsters were gone and the screams were fading, but the boys couldn’t give up.

Evin jumped as timber creaked, then thudded beside him. The supports of the town hall gave way and the building fell in on itself.

Then, in front of Evin, someone emerged from the smoke, shielding his face and hacking. For a moment, in his panicked, confused state, Evin almost thought he was looking at his own reflection—the figure was tall, slender, and blond. But then the other boy lowered his arm.

Relief flooded into Evin’s tense muscles. “Marten!”

Marten’s pale eyes widened. “Evin!”

Evin ran to his brother and barreled into his chest.

“We have to run!” Marten shouted over the din of the crackling flames. “We have to get out of here!”

“Where are Mother and Father?” Evin shouted back.