The man stepped into the alley, and the sound of the fight at my back kept me from retreating any farther. I never should have stopped carrying the bow that used to be constantly strapped to my chest. The man didn’t respond, his expression set in a grim mask as he pulled a dagger from his belt. He lunged.

I dodged, twisting so I slammed sideways into the alley wall. He recovered quickly and blocked my escape, knife raised. I stepped forward, catching his forearm with mine. But I was rusty and remembered too late my block should be followed by a counterattack. The man drove his fist into my exposed stomach, and I stumbled back, wheezing. He brought his knife down, and I flung myself aside, hitting the ground hard and rolling to my feet.

Calm down calm down calm down. I forced a sharp breath in and flexed my fingers as the man squared up with me. I had to get that knife away from him.

He lunged. I sidestepped his strike, driving my elbow into his sternum, then slammed my arm into his. His hand and the butt of the knife struck the alley wall, knocking the weapon from his grasp.

Footsteps sounded, and I barely had time to step back before the hilt of Kiva’s sword struck the man in the temple. He crumpled against the wall.

I panted, heavy breathing mixing with Kiva’s. Blood stained her arm scarlet to the shoulder.

“It’s not mine,” she said in response to my horrified expression. “Get inside. I’ll send someone for the guards.”

I stumbled out of the alley and into the tavern, collapsing into the first booth I reached. Sounds and colors blurred, and I blinked rapidly. Movement at my side made me flinch, but it was only the barmaid setting a glass of water on the table. She muttered a quiet, “Your Highness,” with a swift curtsy.

I felt my head with numb fingers, distantly registering my hood had fallen. Then I gulped down the water.

As the adrenaline faded and understanding struggled to settle, an aching in my stomach and shoulder took its place. Two men at the table beside me subtly shifted their chairs, placing themselves between me and anyone who might come through the tavern door. Some deep, raw part of me glowed at the gesture.

The tavern door swung open, and Kiva entered, pale skin flushed and glistening with sweat. The men let her pass, and she dropped into the seat across from me, her eyes dark.

“The man I fought escaped.” Her voice quavered. “The other one is in custody.”

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think they were thieves.” When I only stared, she hesitated, then paused as the barmaid brought her a glass of water. She pulled it toward her but didn’t drink. “I think they were trying to kill you, Thia.”