“So what are we doing?” Bet said.

Ezra squinted his eyes and stared down the dusty thoroughfare. “Remember ‘Hit and Run?’” he said.

“Oh,” Bet’s voice trailed away. “Well… that didn’t work so well.”

“But it will this time. Look, he’s got an honest injury,” Ezra pointed at Will, “so there’s no need to fake that part. Also, he’s a Darkhand. That alone will get anyone worried about who he knows, or how he’s connected.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Bet didn’t seem so convinced.

“So, what do I do?” Will said.

“Just start taking your bandages off. As you do, I’ll explain everything,” Ezra said.

Half an hour later, Will and Ezra were crouched behind a few wooden packing boxes tucked against the stone wall. Will knew his part, and it wasn’t particularly difficult.

“All right, here someone comes.” Ezra put his hand up in a fist and Bet casually walked out from her hiding space on the other side of the road. From there, she meandered without drawing any unwanted attention.

Down towards the street’s end, came a large, covered cart pulled by two trotting horses. Normal horses, nothing like the huge, black ones at the gate. With one hand, Will pressed his injured arm to his chest. Since they had removed the bandages, the sensation had flared up substantially. Faking pain wouldn’t be an issue.

“When Bet yells, we run,” Ezra said. “You ready?”

Will nodded, though he doubted he was. This was far beyond his comfort zone.

The two of them stayed perfectly still and silent as the cart came ever closer. It was a good time, since there was hardly anyone around. Will felt his heart pound, and Swoop nuzzled in close on his shoulder.

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhh,” Bet screamed and pointed at the cart. Ezra and Will ran towards it as fast as they could. Ezra threw his entire bodyweight into the cart’s side and forced the cart to jolt to a stop. Will immediately slid to the ground to lay a few feet in front of the backmost wheel. Ezra, quickly scrambled away and hid himself before the drivers could get down from their seats.

“You hit him!” Bet wailed, “You’ve killed him!”

Both drivers tumbled down and frantically looked to see what had happened, as Bet ran in to join them.

Will lay in the dirt moaning in pain.

“What happened? Where’d he come from?” One of the drivers tried to ask his partner.

“You killed my brother!” Bet continued as loudly as possible.

“No, hush no, look, he’s ok, see?”

This was Will’s cue. He rolled over to more clearly show his hurt arm. Even the drivers groaned. Bet dropped to her knees beside Will and began to cry.

“What happened?” It was Ezra. He had emerged from his hiding place and now walked forward as if terribly concerned. Bet ignored him. Will moaned on the ground, and Swoop, she flew in from above and began to hop along beside him.

“Oh, no.” The men turned to one another in undisguised fear.

“You just hit a Darkhand.” Ezra said. “Is he gonna’ make it?”

One of the men knelt down to Will. “It’s just his arm. He’ll be ok, he just needs a good Mender.”

“How much’ll that cost?” Ezra said. The men didn’t answer. “Listen, little girl, do you have any money? Your brother needs to get to a Mender now. If he doesn’t…”

“I’ll go get Dad,” Bet said, “Maybe he’ll have the money,” she said through her streaking tears.

“No.” The first driver’s voice was more than alarmed. “Look, we can help with the cost.” Instantly both men began to rifle through their pockets. “Here, just take this and get him to Mender quick.” The two of them shoved money into Bet’s hands. “There isn’t time to get your Dad.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much,” Bet said.

Ezra leaned down and helped Will up to his feet, then passed him off to Bet and allowed her to lead him away.

“Okay… it’s okay. He’s gonna’ be fine,” one driver said.

“Yeah.” The other man had taken out a soft blue handkerchief, and had begun to dab his forehead. He turned to Ezra. “What are you waiting for?”

“My money,” Ezra said.

“What are you talking about?” The first man growled.

“You just hit a Darkhand kid, paid his sister off, and now you expect to walk away without anyone saying anything? I’m good at keeping my mouth shut,” Ezra said. “Real good, but it comes at a price.”

“What do you want?” The men both looked sick.

Ezra had them. They were going to pay. He just had to decide how much.

How much should Ezra demand?

Ten dreckles

Twenty dreckles

Thirty dreckles

This Poll is Closed