Tiger Lily’s sword touches the throat of the boy who isn’t Arthur. He lets out a strangled cry as Tiger Lily grabs his shirt, yanking him backward. Beside Jane, Timothy fairly quivers with excitement, and Jane flashes him a grin.

“Peter! They got injuns!” Arthur shouts.

“That’s not fair.” Peter scowls. “You’re cheating!”

The boy who isn’t Arthur squirms in Tiger Lily’s grasp. Keeping her own sword pressed against his throat, she releases his shirt long enough to take his sword and kick it away before moving him over to one of the rock pillars, holding him tightly.

Peter waves his own blade erratically, turning and turning, trying to face them both at once. When he turns their way, Jane can’t help shrinking back into the shadows. His face is sharp and furious, but he also looks as though he might burst into frustrated tears at any moment.

“You’re not playing the game right!” Under the spoiled, whining tone there’s a dangerous edge.

While Peter is distracted, Jane watches her mother draw closer. But before she reaches Peter, Arthur barrels into her. Jane can’t hold herself back. She lets out a shout, scrambling from the rock shelf and charging toward Arthur. Timothy slides down after her, and there’s no time to tell him to go back.

“Leave my mother alone!” Jane pelts across the cavern floor and as soon as she’s within range, she lets the arrowhead fly.

It strikes Arthur’s shoulder. He turns, slapping at the spot as though insect-stung. It’s enough distraction for her mother to twist herself around and throw him off.

“Jane!” Fear lights her mother’s eyes. She holds out an arm and Jane runs to her. She meant to rescue her mother and be a hero, but it’s gone all wrong.

“I tried to be brave,” Jane whispers, hugging her mother tight.

“I know.” Her mother buries her face in Jane’s hair. “You were very brave.”

“Ah ha!” Arthur is on his feet again, running.

At first Jane can’t see what he’s running toward, then she remembers—Timothy.

“Jane, help!” Timothy tries to get away, but Arthur’s legs are longer.

Jane pulls away from her mother, ignoring the hands trying to hold her back. She has to get Timothy; she promised to keep him safe.

“Leave him alone!” Jane wishes she had another arrowhead to shoot.

All she has left tucked in her sleeve is the tiny stone from Peter’s soup, and that isn’t enough to hurt a boy like Arthur. She considers using it anyway. But she’s too late.

Arthur lunges forward with the point of his sword. All the breath goes out of her body, and Jane skids to a halt. The blood drains from Timothy’s face. He stands perfectly still, eyes wide.

“Hooray. That’s it, Arthur, you got ’im!” Peter claps, bouncing up and down.