I turned in time to see the glint of the lamplight catch on a third bolt, just before the shooter pulled the trigger on their crossbow. I threw up a net over our heads. The bolt clattered to the ground, and the person on the roof cursed. They ducked out of my line of sight.

“Hang in there.” I tried to pull Osan’s uninjured arm over my shoulders and stand, but I couldn’t do it; he was too heavy and I was too weak. “Please, you have to help me, I need you to get up.”

My lace would only last so long; we had to find help before I ran out. Osan panted, his face screwed up with pain. He leaned on me, using my shoulder as a crutch to lever himself off the ground. Another bolt shot straight toward him. My net repelled it, the threads turning slick in my grasp, but Osan still recoiled instinctively and slipped back down.

“More than one of them up there,” he said through gritted teeth. “Can you pull them off the edge of the roof?”

“If I could see them, maybe.”

He closed his eyes. “We have to be aggressive, or they’ll just wear you down. Run for the emergency stairwell, face them up there.”

I shook my head.

“Come on, you know it’s—”

“If I leave you exposed, they’ll kill you.”

“If you don’t do anything, they’ll kill me too. And you.”

Two bolts hit my net, and I felt it buckle a little under the force. Maintaining a shield strong enough to repel the projectiles was draining my lace at a frightening rate; I did not know how much longer I could hold it up.

“Stop!” I yelled. I spread my arms wide to shield Osan. “Stop shooting!”

Silence, except for Osan’s pained breathing and the beating of my heart. I shook with anger and fear, my eyes scouring the rooftop for the shooters. But no more bolts were fired.

“They don’t want to hit you,” Osan whispered.

I could hear movement in the alleyway to the right of us. Careful to keep Osan in my shadow, I picked up a fallen bolt. The metal was cool. I coiled lace around it like a spring.

“Tell me what you want,” I called. “I’m willing to talk.”

Shuffling on the roof. I threw the bolt toward the sound, packing my lace behind the motion so that it shot forward with unnatural speed and power. All the same, it was a vain hope. The bolt hit the top of the wall, harmless.

“Or I will hurt you,” I lied. “No more warning shots.”

In response, a fist-sized rock flew toward my net. I stumbled backwards and tripped on Osan’s leg. A man jeered from above.

“They’ve got us pinned down,” I said.

Osan struggled to rise, but as soon as he moved, a bolt slammed into my lace. The last of my power trickled away and the net dissolved like smoke in my grasp. I lurched sideways to cover him again, and he caught my expression.