As soaki and in pain as Simon was, he still didn’t just stumble through the exit blind. Instead, he stood at the threshold and looked for some hint as to what might await him for several mihere was nothing that stood out to him as dangerous, though. It was an idyllic se full of birdsong, not battle cries, and that made part of him trust it less.

  These are in ological order, not order of difficulty, he reminded himself. “Maybe someone needs some wood chopped,” he said to himself with a chuckle. “Or maybe the orcs just haven’t attacked yet.”

  In front of him was a hill, and behind it, a setting sun formed a picture-perfect backdrop that he would have loved to paint if he had any talent. The spag of the trees indicated that this was an orchard, or perhaps was one in the past, though it wasn’t immediate what fruit they were growing because none was visible. There weren’t even any footprints to indicate men or monsters.

  So, after hesitating for so long, Simon walked into the warm, balmy temperatures of what felt like a summer evening. Theaggered up the hill, so he could get a better view before he tried to engage in major surgery and rip this damn arrow out.

  Along the way, he thought about pig up deadwood to build a small fire. It would be dark soon, and that would be the smart thing to do. He didn’t, though, because he feared that if he bent down, he might not rise again; every movement hurt, and the only reason he plodded forward was stubbornness. Every step to the top was one closer to making sure that no one would surprise him when he was writhing in pain in a few minutes.

  “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he grumbled to himself as he limped, willing the imaginary ugh track to py in his head. The line was cliché but entirely justified in his case.

  When Simon reached the crest of the hill, the su had gone gray, but he could see a verdant ndscape filling the valley he was in. In the distahe mountains were sharp and jagged, indig to him that he robably in the Kingdom of Chiara, though he supposed he could also be somewhere else he’d yet to see. That put him ierritory of high mountains, werewolves, and dangerous dinner parties, though he didn’t know too much else about it beyond the cheerful little farmstead at the foot of his hill.

  “Maybe I’ll take it easy for the rest of this life,” he said to himself as he got down on his knees o the tree and looked at the st dying rays of the setting sun. “It’s a big bnk spot on my map. Maybe I’ll just rex here and fill it in for a while.”

  It was a nice dream, but mostly, what Simon was doing was steeling himself for what he o do , which was going to hurt like hell. He reached behind him with his left hand and tried to force the arrow all the way through so he could pull it out the other side. The jolt of pain that ran through him in that moment was awful.

  Enduring pain had gotten to be almost easy for him. Inflig it on himself, though? That was still very hard.

  If he could have gotten a better grip, Simon was sure he could have do, but his hand was blood-slick, and the angle was absolutely terrible. So, he could push hard enough to make it hurt but not enough to drive the thing deeper and deeper.

  Simon swallowed hard and decided that he should use a word of lesser force to see if that would do the trick. He took a moment in the fading twilight to breathe deeply and slow his rag heart as he pictured the moment aly what he wao happen. The bolt had already speared his kidneys and would probably puncture his iines and whatever else on the way out, but he didn’t think that there would be bone in the way. That meant that a few seds after he got the thing out, he could heal it all up, nid .

  Easier said than done, he thought, swallowing again before he opened his eyes and whispered, “Aufvarum Oo.”

  The pain that followed those words as the arrow was shoved forward was instant and blinding but not as bad as he feared. A lesser word of force was less like magid more like being kicked by a mule. As a result, the arrow surged forward, out of his stomach, and the ruins of his shirt were covered in blood before it cttered to the ground a couple feet in front of him. It was an ugly sight, but he was gd it was over with.

  When the sharp pain passed a him with the dull ache of that passing, he felt like he’d been stabbed all ain. All he wao do was curl up into a ball. The air was warm, but he was still shivering from being damp. He couldn’t do that yet, though. A kidney wound would bleed out if he fell asleep, and if he’d torn anything in his guts, which seemed very likely, it would get ied very quickly.

  Instead, he spped himself to maintain focus and forced himself to trate on what that wound track looked like and all the ways that he o fix it if he wao wake up in the m with some sembnce of health.

  “Hyakk,” he said when he was ready and opened his eyes to watch the wound close before them. Even if the blood remaihe wound itself had vanished with barely more than a scar.

  Ohat was dohough, even though the pain was gone, he gave in and passed out at the foot of the tree. Three words of power and a handful of lesser words had takeoll. He was pletely spent.

  The sleep that followed was deep and dreamless, and for a time, he knew only oblivion. Sometime hours ter, Simon was woken by the sound of footsteps feet from him. Despite feeling groggy, he sidered springing to his feet, but he realized that might not be the best move. Instead, he cracked his eyes open ever so slightly but could only make out the fiooled riding boots of a single man, only a few feet from his fabsp;

  “You don’t have to pretend to be asleep,” the stranger said in a fident voients after that. “I tell when they fake it.”

  Simon sidered ign that line, but in the end, he opened his eyes and sat up. Whether the person that he was fag had any real insight into his state, he was weak enough that being cooperative was the correct py. If worst came to worst, he still had a magic bde that could slice through anything. With that, he only needed a moment of distra to win most fights.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing in these nds?” the dark man asked, regarding him coolly.

  Simon looked up from where he sat on the ground and was surprised by what he saw. He’d expected a farmer or perhaps bandits, but this man appeared to be a her thaher of the roups. He had fine clothes that matched his perfectly polished riding boots, and though the style was unfamiliar to Simon, it was easy to tell the man was young ahy. That made the trast betweewo of them that much more dramatic, given that, at this point, he was an old man in blos. He wasn’t eveirely dry yet.

  “I’m… I’m just passing through,” Simon said, trying and failing to think of a cover story uhe pierg gaze of the stranger. “A night uhis tree, and I’ll be gone in the m with no harm done. I’m sorry that I picked your nd, but as you see, I—”

  “I asked you a question; don’t make me repeat myself,” the man said, gring hard. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

  Simon wao tell the man that it was none of his business, but when he opened his mouth, that wasn’t what came out. Instead, he said, “I’m Simon Jackoby, and after I removed the arrow. I needed a pce to rest. I’m not sure what I’m doi.”

  “An arrow, is it?” the man answered with a cruel smirk as he noticed the thing ao pick it up. “Yes, this would cause a nasty wound. I’m surprised you aren’t already dead.”

  Simon barely heard him, though. Instead, he sat there in shock, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why would I say that? He wondered. Who is this guy?

  What happened shook him free of his reverie, though, as the man lifted the bloody arrow to his nose and smelled it. “But this is only one of the sts I smelled,” the noble mused. “I smell others… that’s actually why I sought you out. I smelled a feast of barbarity on the wind. Imagine my disappoi when I sought you out and found only a single sy human. How many did you kill, exactly?”

  “Nearly a dozen,” Simon said. This time, he didn’t feel a pulsion. He just answered holy to avoid that dread gaze again while his mind raced to figure out what he should do. “In a vilge not far from here. Bandits. It wasn’t my fault.” In the end, he chose violenbsp;

  “A sy, dried-up thing like you killed a dozen men?” the noble ughed, revealing a set of sharp fangs. “Were they asleep? I don’t see any other way that—”

  For all his speed, he was only just turning when Simon started swinging, and it was obvious that he uimated the bde. The vampire’s limbs blurred, but they made no move to avoid the ented edge of Simon’s saber. He lost his right arm for that and howled in pain even as he lifted Simon up with his left by the throat before smming him against the tree so hard that he heard ribs crack, and the sword slipped free of his grasp.

  “Faa! What is— a rune bde?” the man yelled, more in e than pain. “I do not think we shall be doing that again. Now tell me, Simon, where did you get such a on, and what is it you are doing in my mistress’s nds?”

  Simohe weight of the gaze on him again, but he shut his eyes tight, and when he opened his mouth, it was to say, “Meiren!”

  This time, the vampire’s screams were pure pain as he went up like a bonfire, dropping Simon to the ground. Simon gasped for breath while he watched the monster burn. Then he rolled over and started crawling toward his bde.

  Before he could reach it, though, or even utter another word of power, the still-burning vampire was on him again. He reached forward with blinding speed and ripped out his throat.

  “I don’t think we’ll be having any more of that,” the monster growled, looking briefly flicted. His fine clothes were all but gone, and the burns on his fad chest tio heal. Simon could see that the monster wao interrogate him further, but that desire warred with bloodlust as Simon’s lifeblood went everywhere. “We ’t be letting any more of this go to waste, though, we?”

  As he finished speaking, he sank his fangs into Simon’s ned drank deeply. Simon gasped from the pain, but his struggles for the few seds were weak as his sciousness left him.

  Please don’t let me be a vampire when I wake up, was his final thought before the darkook him.