The flames thundered overhead.

“Get to Fancy,” Da commanded, “and ride.”

Then he rose and stepped out onto the porch and put his helmet upon his head. Someone shouted out a warning, and the mob turned to look.

Da stood in his dark, shining armor, the fire raging above his head, smoke pouring off the roof.

The men in the yard froze.

“You’ve met the mistress,” Da bellowed. “Now face the master!”

A man dropped his spear, panic shining in his wide eyes.

Da roared and and charged into the fray.

“Da!” Sugar called after him.

He had no weapon, and at first, Sugar thought that he too would fly into the soldiers as Mother had with that awful strength and speed. But Da did not show any sign of dark magic. He charged as a normal man would, an actor playing a role.

But the soldiers did not see through Da’s bluff, and they began to scatter.

Just then the Crab yelled out and galloped across Sugar’s view toward her parents, his sword held high and at the ready.

The house burned like a furnace. The heat began to scorch her lungs with each breath, and she dropped to the floor.

She watched Da run to one of the dead men and pick up his spear. Then he turned just in time to meet the Crab’s charge. Da yelled and shoved the spear into the neck of the Crab’s mount. The horse screamed, reared, and threw its rider.

“Sugar!” Legs called out.

She turned and saw him holding his hand to his chest. His hand was bleeding. She’d been wrong: one of the arrows had found a mark.

She could do nothing against soldiers. But she could help her brother.

“Open the door!” she shouted.

“I can’t,” he said.

He could, but was too frightened to do anything. The wisterwife charm he always kept about his neck had falled out of his tunic. Sugar hoped the wisterwives were indeed looking out for them. But the wisterwives would be able to do nothing if they let the house burn down on top of them. Sugar tore herself from the battle that raged out front and crawled to her brother.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“We’re going to the woods,” said Sugar. “And then…” And then she didn’t know where. No, they’d go to Horse.

She opened the door.

Fancy was gone. She looked out through the haze and billows of smoke to the edges of the yard and could see her nowhere. But neither could she see any soldiers. They all must have run to the front of the house to join the battle.

A log above them made a deafening burst.

“Take my hand,” said Sugar. “We’re going to run to the pond, and from there the river. Are you ready?”

There was an immense whoosh, and the heat at Sugar’s back seemed to increase tenfold.

“Now,” she said. And she and Legs bolted from the house. Down the path they went between the barn and the pheasant house.

When Legs knew a course, he only needed to know where he was at any moment and whether any new obstacles lay in the path. He did not count steps or need to feel about him.

They had taken the path to the new pond many times, for Legs loved the feel of the sun-heated water. And so Sugar only needed to call out his orientation points as they came to them. They ran past the garden and privy to Mother’s pheasant house.

Three of the soldiers far to her right fled the battle. She looked back, hoping to see that Mother and Da had scattered the small army.

The whole roof of the house raged with fire; the immense flames wheezed and roared dozens of feet into the sky. Beyond the fire, Da and Mother stood side by side. With one hand Mother pressed her wound; in the other she held a sword. Da held an axe and shield.

It appeared they had put the soldiers to flight. But then the soldiers stopped and turned, forming a line. They weren’t fleeing, they were making a space so that the bowmen could shoot without killing a number of their own.

Legs tugged on her.

Mother tried to charge the line, but Da stepped in front of her to stand between her and the soldiers.

The bowmen loosed their arrows. These did not fly wide this time, and despite Da shielding her from most of the shafts, Mother fell to the earth.

Da’s battle cry sounded over the raging of the fire. He too charged. The arrows did not penetrate his armor, but a multitude of spears did.

A shout of triumph rose up from the mob.

“Sugar?” asked Legs.

The fire blazed into the sky. The heat, even at this distance, burned her face. She could not catch her breath.

The soldiers converged upon Da like a pack of wild dogs.

She watched their weapons rise and fall. Some began to run toward Mother, but the Crab shouted and brandished his sword to keep them away.

It was a nightmare, but Sugar could not tear her eyes from it.

A man raised a black sword high over Da. That was a Fire blade from the temple.

No, she thought. No.

Then the man swung the sword down like he was chopping a mighty block of wood and hacked Da’s head from his body.

She could not move. Could barely breathe. The Crab waved the black-bladed man away from Mother. Then a soldier pointed at her and Legs.

“Sugar,” said Legs. “Why are we stopped?”

She realized he had been asking her that over and over. His voice seemed to come from a great distance. It seemed she was watching the whole scene from a great distance.

“It’s too hot,” said Legs and tugged at her.

She took a step; Legs followed. She broke into a jog. “To the woods, straight through Galson’s fields.” That’s what Mother had said.

She glanced back and saw a number of soldiers running toward them.

“Then to the pond,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her ears. “Over the fence and to the pond.”

Hand in hand, they ran across Galson’s paddock. She felt the knife at her waist. The knife Da had given her. A voice in the back of her mind told her to fight. But the voice was small, so very small.

She saw Fancy lying in the grass, arrows sticking from her, but Sugar only noted it. Her mind was filled with the image of Mother and Da and that terrible black blade. Twice Legs stumbled because of her inattention.

When they reached the pond, Sugar looked back. Soldiers ran through Galson’s paddocks toward them. On the far edge of a paddock the district lord rode atop his horse looking for a gate through. She snapped back to the task at hand.

Sugar knew the woods well. She’d played hide-and-seek here and foraged for acorns and firewood. She’d hidden here from the village boys before Da taught her how to fight. The wood was old and in many places did not allow enough light to the ground to support much more than mushrooms. But mushrooms would not hide them. And even if they had cover, the mob would bring dogs.

So Sugar decided they would take the forest creek for their path. She and Legs had a small craft there they sometimes floated on. They would ride the water downstream. And just before they reached the confluence with the main river, they would leave the craft and escape into the woods on the other side.

Sugar looked down at the wisterwife charm Legs wore about his neck. Wisterwives were servants of the seven Creators. It was said that even Regret, the Creator who wanted to destroy the world, was served by them, but neither Mother nor Da had ever seen the creature that had left this charm. “Let us hope the wisterwife is watching us,” she said.

Sugar looked back one last time to where Da and Mother had fallen. One of the village women bent over Mother, probably stripping her. It flickered through Sugar’s mind that this was hopeless. She should stand here and meet her fate. But she quickly pushed that idea aside and faced the woods.

“You’ve done this a hundred times, brother. It’s over the bluff and to the river.”