When Things Are Set Right

Grim Stonebreaker

Aeryn gaped at him. He looked half-dead, so how was he even holding that?

"No!" she cried.

He paused. "Okay."

The man slumped against the log, sinking lower and allowing the axe to thunk into the grass at his side.

Aeryn studied him for a moment, pained at the sight. He was semi-conscious and still breathing heavily. He wasn't dressed like an Imperial, which relieved her, but he was a wreck.

He cracked an eye and watched her inch closer.

"You have an arrow sticking out of you," she said.

"I know," he said, unphased.

She hesitated. "If you let me, I can remove it."

The man regarded her with his one unswollen eye for a beat. "Okay."

He shut his eye, and took a few more heavy breaths, as though summoning his strength. He grunted in discomfort as he shifted his body to offer his shoulder.

Aeryn rested her belongings and inspected the wound. The arrow penetrated the minute gap between his backplate and spaulder. With permission, she removed the shoulder piece, and cut back some of the leather and fabric which was wet and sticky with blood. The arrowhead was completely embedded.

She took a steadying breath. She had a strong stomach, but wasn't used to seeing arrows sticking out of people.

"I'm going to pull it straight out," she said. "It's going to hurt, and I'm sorry."

"I can handle it."

Her eyes darted to the axe at his side. What if he reacted strongly when she yanked it out?

"Mind if I move your axe first?"

"I like my axe."

"Yes, it looks very sharp."

She left the shoulder to grasp the weapon with two hands, then dragged it a few feet away, out of his reach.

"There. Nice and safe." Returning to his shoulder, she took a deep breath. "Try to stay still. Ready?"

His muscles tensed as she wrapped her hands around the arrow shaft. She pulled, firmly and steadily. He barely flinched. With a shucking noise, the arrow came out, followed by a gush of blood.

It was in one piece.

Relief washed over Aeryn and she realized she had been holding her breath. She recognized the arrowhead as the mechanical barbed variety Kazmuk showed her earlier that day.

Was this the prisoner the Imperials mentioned to Kazmuk? What did those men call him? Stonebreaker?

She tossed the arrow to the ground where the man could see it. She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and applied gentle pressure to slow the bleeding.

"Thank you," the man said, pulling Aeryn out of her own head.

"You're welcome. What's your name?"

"Grim Stonebreaker," he said, his voice groggy.

That answers that.

When she imagined a fugitive on the run for weeks, she expected someone gaunt and ragged, or wild and dangerous. Not a mountain of muscle in plate armor. Questions tangled in her mind, but more pressing was Grim, drifting off right in front of her.

She rapped his metal chestpiece with a finger. "Hey. Wake up. No dying."

His eyes fluttered and he took a sudden breath.