Immaculate, heaving for breath, was near the midpoint of the steps, just sitting and breathing in great, whooping lungfuls in the dark.

  “I saw what you did with the brick,” Dalliance said. “You saved her life.”

  Immaculate was breathing too hard to do more than nod.

  “Do you have it in you to do it one more time?”

  He raised a finger. A few minutes of breathing, and then an exclamation of, “What?!”

  “I need to get to the magazine,” Dalliance said simply. “And I need to get Zenith’s spear on the way there. Okay? We need to climb the wall with this rope.” He heaved up the rope originally meant for dragging Sterling, but if this worked, Sterling could stay right where he was for the time being.

  Earnest, behind him, looked ill at the idea but nodded. He was along for the ride. Dalliance had admittedly not told him where it was going.

  “How long do you need?”

  “When I yell ‘go for it’, try to make a loop in front of the magazine.”

  Earnest looked scandalized. Dalliance quickly added, “After Earnest climbs up.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Immaculate said.

  Dalliance hoped they wouldn’t . . . until it was too late.

  “Lackey!” Dalliance banged his fist on the door. “Lackey, open up! You have to get out of here! The bear is coming!”

  “Bullshit,” said Woebegone Lackey.

  Dalliance had been pretty sure he was going to say that.

  “Okay then, Lackey,” he said. “Is there a way for you to climb out? Is there somewhere for you to hide in there?”

  “Maybe. Why do you care?”

  “Open up, Lackey!”

  “Is it dead?”

  “No.”

  “No,” he said.

  “You really are a piece of shit coward,” said Earnest from above.

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  Throwing a loop of rope over the corner of the magazine had been a piece of cake, according to Earnest, and climbing it afterward would also be. The evidence seemed to support his boast, as he was now speaking from the wall top of the magazine.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” said Lackey.

  Earnest responded by throwing rubble at him. Dalliance could hear the taller boy screaming in indignation and pain as Earnest picked up anything loose off the top of the wall and pelted him with it: bricks, shingles, nails, whatever he could find. He could hear the ping and clank and thud of the projectiles. There was nowhere to hide in there, and he knew when the door was about to open.

  “Go for it!” Dalliance yelled at the top of his lungs.

  Lackey paused in opening the door, but Earnest redoubled his throws. A sobbing, screaming, angry Woebegone Lackey shoved the door wide open just as the Ursae, following a fleet-footed Immaculate, looped in front of it as predicted.

  It went for the easier prey.

  Lackey screamed and hauled at the door, but Dalliance had already wedged the spear shaft into the hinges before running to the other side and hauling back, in opposition to Lackey's attempts to close it, the door itself hiding him from the bear.

  The beast barely fit inside the narrow room, but charged in, heedless, shoulders scraping the brick cubbies that lined both walls.

  The Lackey boy would be okay. Probably. He'd fit down one.

  Well. Not if Dalliance left this at this.

  Dalliance kicked the spear out of the hinges, allowing the door to flop partly closed, but bumping the bear’s hips, not even making it to perpendicular. He darted past, scooping up the spear, and ran for his life.

  All their lives.

  In a loop.

  Spear braced as well as one-and-a-half hands could.

  And brought it to bear, full-on sprinting, with the only chink in the creature’s armor he’d been able to think of, one provided by nature, bypassing all that stubborn hide and iron muscle.

  The bear roared, and thrashed, and leapt forward to try to clear itself of the impaling implement.

  Dalliance slammed the door shut.

  And locked it.

  Earnest’s incredulous shouts were just noise to him as he wrangled the ladder into position, pulled it up, and dropped it down again on the other side.

  The walk to the wagon was peaceful. It smelled better.

  [For the slaying of a Great Beast, you have been awarded four (4) experience points.]

  [For the fulfillment of your Rearguard title, as the last on the field to strike a blow, in defense of your fellows, you have been awarded four (4) additional experience points. The gods smile down favorably upon this kill, propriety notwithstanding, and bid you grow in discernment, for such hard choices shall come again.]

  Spirit. And . . . spirit. The last two points went to the bank.

  He hitched up the horses and pulled the wagon around to where a solemn faced class stood assembled on the walltop, staring, then hopped down.

  “You can come back for us in the morning,” he suggested.

  He didn’t have the energy to listen to the yammering questions. He only later realized he could have told them the bear was already dead, and to let Woebegone out.

  Instead, Dalliance climbed into the shelter, still wooden and bare, and slept.