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to work hard to get around its peer — exhausting work that Malja planned to take advantage of later. If I make it that far. The oxters, however, had other plans.
    The one in the back, the one Malja now noticed had a red rash around its eyes, shot straight ahead, planted its forelegs on the other's haunches, and leapt over its head. It swiped at Malja as it landed, connected with her shoulder, and threw her into a pile of bricks.
    Which hurt more — the beast's blow or the bricks — she couldn't tell. Both just hurt and made her angry. She scrambled back to her feet and rushed forward, swinging Viper with calculated fervor. Before she could take control of the fight, Red Rash flanked her. She stepped back, parrying horns and claws more than attacking. Each step she tried to reposition for a fairer fight. Frustration and rage played out on the oxters' ugly faces. They wanted to slow her enough for a poisonous tail strike.
    From the corner of her eye, she saw Not Red go for a wide swipe meant to finish her. Malja ducked and came up hard, thrusting Viper into its chest. The oxter yelped and yanked back, causing Viper's curved blade to cut more as it ripped out.
    Without hesitation, Malja spun to face Red Rash, but the beast had already attacked. She met the blow full on, taking it on her side, and being thrust into more rubble. Not what she had planned, but in battle, improvisation ruled. At this point, Red Rash made a critical mistake — it should have struck with its tail, but first, it glanced at the other oxter. Malja did not want to miss such an opportunity. She rolled to the left, ignoring her bruised side, and positioned behind Red. It attempted to snap her with its tail. Malja sliced it off. Blood and cries erupted. Malja skewered the barbed slice onto Viper, and armed with the poisonous tail, she slammed it into each oxter. In seconds, they moved no more.
    Panting as sweat dripped from her face, Malja straightened and tossed the bloody tail aside. Before she could face Fawbry, however, she heard him whimper and protest. Though he garbled his words, she understood — the griffle guards would no longer follow him. They would no longer wait.
    They yelled as they charged into battle like a chorus of berserk madmen. Malja sneered, bracing for a tough fight. She did not dream of surviving. She never did in any fight. She thought only of inflicting damage.
    They picked up speed and pointed their weapons at her. Malja readied Viper once more and took slow, controlled breaths. Channeling all her rage, she roared at her stampeding enemy.
    With only a few steps to go before reaching the killing zone, the guards skidded to a halt. Surprise and perplexed fear covered their monstrous faces as they backed up and staggered away. Malja wanted to laugh. Her battle roar never had such a response before.
    Then she heard the tidal wave break behind her. Pressig and his town flooded the square in pursuit of the guards. Pressig glanced over his shoulder and said, "They watched you fight. They wanted to help." He smiled in victory and pressed onward.
    A few townspeople rushed over to free the three prisoners. The prisoners stood with the confused joy of those who had accepted the fate of Death — Malja had felt that way many times. She could not be sure if the newly freed people belonged to the town, but she could tell by their effusiveness that they would probably be joining soon.
    Malja let her body relax for a few breaths. She looked at Fawbry, alone on his throne, yelling at his abandoning guards, reaching out as Tufts scurried away, and she thought of Jarik and Callib.
    * * * *
     
    The people of Noogruff couldn't hold back their excitement. Three riders galloped ahead to tell the town of their success. By the time Malja, Pressig, and the rest arrived, a full-blown celebration filled the main street.
    Fire pits blazed and savory aromas of roasting meat touched every grumbling stomach. Warmed breads and hot vegetables were doled out