She rounded the bend Kyra and was thrilled to spot the carriages, slowed by a muddy stretch of road, and she increased her pace. As she bore down on them, the reality sank in of what she was doing, of how reckless this was; she knew they could not kill all of these professional soldiers, and that they would likely be captured or killed by them. Yet the strangest thing happened to her. For some reason, Kyra felt her fear dissolving. In its place, she felt a rush of adrenaline, felt a great sense of purpose, and she did not think of herself, but only of these girls. She imagined the battle to come and she felt comfortable that, no matter what happened, even if she should die here on this day, her cause was true.

Kyra glanced over at Dierdre, running beside her, and she could see the fear in her friend’s face. Dierdre seemed unsure what to do.

“Make for the wood line and circle around, behind them,” Kyra commanded her. “On my signal, attack them from behind.”

“Attack them with what?” Dierdre called back, her voice filled with fear.

Kyra realized her friend was weaponless, and she studied the soldiers on the back of the carriage, and singled out the ones with tall spears, riding closer to the wood line, and she came to a decision.

“We’ll use their weapons against them,” she said. “On my signal, you shall unlock the carriages and free the girls. I shall aim for the men with the spears, and when they drop, you shall gather one for yourself. Go!”

Dierdre veered off into the wood line, leaving Kyra and Leo alone on the road. Kyra, about twenty yards away, was close enough now to be in range with her arrows and she stopped in the muddy path, took aim, and released her first arrow, aiming for a particularly large soldier on the last carriage, who appeared to be their leader. He sat high up on the carriage, whipping the horses, and Kyra knew if she could take him out, the carriage would lose control, and all would be chaos. She aimed high, taking into account the wind, and aimed for his back.

Kyra released, feeling all the tension leaving her body, and she watched breathlessly as the fateful arrow sailed through the air, whistling. She held her breath, as she always did, praying it did not miss.

It hit its target, and she felt a flood of relief as she saw it was a perfect shot. The soldier cried out and slumped over and tumbled down, the carriage immediately veering, directionless, until it smashed into a tree—sending several soldiers falling off of it, into the mud.