Page 115 of A Thief to Die For

But it is real. A gut shot fired from only feet away.

Fatal.

I pant and watch as Rufus jumps to his feet and stumbles from the scene. If he knows anything, it’s when to bail on a bad deal.

Atlas pulls again on the mechanism to reload.

With a guttural cry, I rip out the arrow and fist it as a weapon. If I’m going to die, I’m taking this monster with me. Get up, I command myself. But moving even one foot is the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

Atlas curses and smacks his crossbow.

It jammed? I stagger forward.

Atlas’s fearful eyes dart to me as he snarls at his weapon, ‘Come on.’ He hits it again, this time harder.

Determined yet weak, I charge at him.

He turns to run. But then there’s an ominous click as his crossbow loads a bolt. He laughs victoriously and aims at me. He shoots.

This one hits my chest, close to my heart. It’s a bomb of pain, too much to doubt that it’s real. The struggle to breathe is instant. My legs refuse to carry me forward any more.

‘Ha! I win,’ Atlas celebrates with disbelief. ‘I did it. You’re dead. There’s no way you’re surv–’

Rufus reappears out of nowhere with the sword in his one hand and runs it through Atlas’s stomach.

‘How dare you kill my son!’ he shouts.

Atlas drops to the ground.

I stare. It’s wild that my search for justice for my father’s murder ends with him avenging mine. My eyes close in relief that the threat is over, but also because my lungs are failing. I fall.

‘Ryland,’ Rufus cries as he rushes over. He moans, taking in the bolt and blood.

‘I can’t – I can’t breathe.’

‘Here, let me help you.’ And before I can stop him, he rips out the arrow from my chest.

I growl through the burst of agony. No doubt I’ll bleed out faster now. It makes me cough violently, and I choke on more blood. But oddly, it does help me to breathe. ‘Are they … okay?’ I wheeze out.

‘Who? The girls?’ Rufus throws a look over his shoulder, his face grim. ‘One of them took an arrow.’

I clench my eyes shut. Atlas was pointing at Marian when he fired. My heart pounds wet and heavy in my chest. ‘Go help her.’

He grips my hands. ‘Okay, son. If that’s what you want.’

He disappears and soon after a shadow falls over me. My eyes blink open. I can’t believe it, but I see the long strands of Marian’s hair.

‘Marian?’ I whisper, relieved that she’s okay. There’s a halo of sunlight around her head. Her silhouette looks like an angel.

A sob leaves her throat. ‘You’re bleeding,’ she says. She drops to her knees, and her hands try to cover the wounds. ‘Help. We need help,’ she calls out.

‘It’s too late,’ I whisper. Even a Kingsland surgeon couldn’t save me now.

‘No,’ she whimpers. Her head shakes in disbelief.

I wish I had the strength to touch her face. How is she here? But then I remember that Rufus shoved Atlas just as he fired. ‘Was it Agatha who was … shot?’

Marian stills.