My legs buckle until I'm no longer kneeling and before I understand what's happening a figure runs past me, his steps uneven, and launches from the edge of the platform, flying out over the ring of Unconsecrated below us and landing with a thud and a roll. In each hand he carries a blade, the firelight glancing off the metal.

He recovers, stands and then begins to stumble toward the Forest, toward the gate and the path, my brightly colored braided rope tied around his waist and trailing out behind him.

At first he's alone and the Unconsecrated don't notice his presence. But then they move toward him. They sense him, crave him.

“Noooo!” I yell as I crawl forward and grasp the edge of the platform, as if I can take the braid in my hands and yank him back to safety.

The sobs tear at my body but I don't let them out. Instead, prayers rush from my lips as I repeat over and over and over again, “Please, please, please, please.” He stumbles, he falls, he gets up but he can't keep up the pace of the sprint. His leg is too weak.

His gait is too lopsided. His body is too broken.

“Please, please, please, please …”

The Unconsecrated reach for him, their fingers pulling at him, their feet stumbling across the braided rope. He's constantly yanked back, brought to his knees as the rope is pulled tight.

“Please please please please …”

I can hear him yell when the first one reaches him. He lashes out at them but there are too many. He embeds a blade in one and before he can pull it free he's pushed back, stumbling. I can see the blood spread out against his shirt. My brother begins to tug at my shoulder, trying to pry me away from the sight, but all I know is that as long as I don't take my eyes off Travis he'll be okay and will make it to the fences unharmed, uninfected.

He stumbles again and the Unconsecrated begin to pile on top of him.

“Please, please, please.” I fill every word with my life, willing to trade mine for his.

An arrow whizzes past my head and then another and another and another. Each piercing a different Unconsecrated. They begin to fall and finally Travis emerges from underneath the pile, stumbling toward the gate.

Harry stands behind me, his crossbow a blur of action, his cheeks pale and wet but his aim determined and true. Leaving me, Jed goes to his side, takes up a second crossbow, and together they begin to fell the mass of Unconsecrated.

Joy erupts inside me, belief and salvation so pure I feel as if light pours from every inch of my body.

For a moment, for one exquisite and blinding moment, I have complete and utter faith that Travis will make it to the fences unharmed. That we'll live and that I will see what's beyond the Forest. That I will see the ocean. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to contain the feeling.