Willow twisted her wrists this way and that, trying to free her hands. The ropes were loose. Because her parents were able to fight the thrall? Or just because they didn’t know how to tie a person up? They helped the other villagers build the pyre around her, expressionless. Asa moved with the rest of them, bringing huge logs and banking them right up against the tree.

Stay calm. She had faced danger before. Granted, in those times, she had been defending the flock and her life hadn’t been in terrible danger itself. But she had remained calm in those times, and by God, she’d stay calm now.

Sherwood watched the villagers build the pyre, not paying attention to her. She closed her hand as small as she could, the way she did when she had to reach inside a lambing ewe to help her give birth. The rope still clung to her hand, but she managed to work it free. The ropes fell entirely with nothing else to hold them in place. Her heart hammered as the last log was piled around her. She waited until Sherwood had his back turned.

She lunged.

Her fists crashed into his back, sending pain jolting up her spine. Willow jumped onto his back and wrapped her arms around her throat, trying to choke the life out of him. But seconds later hands were tearing at her. The villagers ripped her away from their slave-master and thrust her against the tree again.

Sherwood rubbed his throat and shook his head. “I am getting tired of this, little flame. Stay put and calm down or I’ll have all of them burn with us.”

Willow freed a hand and reached for a knife. “You’ll kill them all anyway! You’re going to burn the world and rebuild it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll kill everybody. I will need loyal servants.” Sherwood wrapped a hand around her throat. “Submit and I will allow your village to survive the end of the world.”

Her parents stood just behind him. In the crowd, she spied her brother and her sister. All of them were utterly blank: canvases with nothing painted on them. They didn’t ransom her, but was that because they didn’t care – or because Sherwood already had a grip on them? Was he hoping that he could kill her quickly and quietly, and it was only when everything went wrong that he decided that it would be this spectacle?

Even if it was their choice not to pay for her freedom, they were her family. She loved them. She couldn’t just let them die. Could she? Was it really better for them to live if this was their fate? Or, if they lived, would they maybe have a chance at some point to break free? To rebel against Sherwood and his plans?

Sherwood’s expression as carefully neutral as he watched her. She wanted to spit in his face and tell him to go to hell, but he already said that he was doing this as revenge against a woman whom he hadn’t seen since before the Great Pyramids were built. She didn’t want to see what he would do to punish her directly.

He must have seen the defeat in her eyes because he released her. With a wave of his hand, the entranced villagers backed away. They moved a good distance, standing behind Asa. Was it just her imagination that he looked torn?

The fairy put his arms around her. “I will be released from this flesh prison and your soul will restore my powers. You should be honored, Willow. Perhaps I will name the new world after you.” Sherwood’s lips brushed against her cheek. “Burn us.”

Asa shifted, his beautiful dragon’s form glistening in the sun. But his jaw remained just. Smoke curled from his nostrils. Slowly, he shook his head.

He was breaking free. Willow’s heart leaped. “Fight it!” she cried. “Fight him!”

“No,” Sherwood hissed. “Burn us! Burn us now!”

A burst of flame shot from Asa’s mouth. Willow’s jaw dropped open ready to scream, but it happened too quickly. The edge of the pyre lit on fire, the flames leaping up. Asa’s eyes widened and he let out a plaintive roar.

Willow reacted on instinct. She threw her head forward. The smooth, hard planes of her forehead cracked into Sherwood’s nose. The fairy made a strangled noise. She stomped on his foot and stumbled away from the burning piles of wood. Sherwood jumped for her, face twisted in fury. He pointed at her parents as his other hand closed around her wrist.

“You! Into the fire.”

They obediently trudged toward the rising flames.

A howl tore through the air. Asa lunged. A clawed hand shot out and wrapped around Sherwood. He yanked him back. Willow was dragged forward several meters before the fairy’s grip on her broke and she tumbled to her knees. Asa tossed Sherwood across the clearing. The dragon panted, rocking on the spot as though still fighting the thrall. Willow was so transfixed that she almost missed her parents still moving steadily towards the burning pyre.

As she stumbled back to her feet, the rest of the villagers swarmed in. They attacked Asa as they had in the village. They clawed at him with bare hands. Only this time there was no screaming, no shouting. Just their faces, terribly blank, as they broke in waves against his huge bulk.

“Mom,” Willow gasped, blocking her path. “Mom, stop, look at me.”

Sherwood drew his glowing blue fairy blade. His eyes seemed to glow with the same light as he charged at Asa. The dragon’s head snapped out and another burst of fire shot from him. Willow tore her eyes away and tackled her mother to the ground.

“Stop,” she gasped. “Mom, fight it. Fight it!”

Her father moved past her. Willow lunged at him. Her arms locked around his knees and he fell, his face grinding into the dirt. He pushed himself right back to his hands and knees and made to stand. Willow threw herself over him, pinning him to the ground. Behind her, her mother got to her feet and stepped over them on her way back to the flames.

“Fight!” Willow felt the helpless panic starting to rise up her throat and she forced it down. She grabbed her mother around the waist and dragged her back. She threw her mother over her father and climbed over both of them, wrestling to keep them both down.

Sherwood drove his sword into Asa’s shoulder. The dragon roared in pain and swatted at the fairy. With a laugh, Sherwood withdrew the blade; his laughter was cut off abruptly when Asa rolled. Sherwood was knocked off his feet as Asa rolled into him, then pinned him beneath his bulk. His clawed hand lashed out, grabbing the sword and knocking it away.

A fist caught Willow in the side of the face, knocking her away. Her father grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back. She cried out as her mother stomped on her leg. Together, her parents tossed her away and turned back to the fire. Willow forced herself back up, though pain exploded through her body, and charged them again.

There was a roar from behind her. Willow didn’t turn. She threw herself onto her parents again. They went down inches from the flames that engulfed the entire pyre. Her father whirled, a terrible grimace twisting his face. And suddenly, he froze. He blinked rapidly as he seemed to see her for the first time.

“Willow?” her mother whispered.

Willow clung to both of them, holding tight to make sure they wouldn’t suddenly try to bolt into the flames again. She looked over her shoulder to see Asa moving back from a still body that lay motionless on the ground. Sherwood. Dead? Could a fairy really die? Or was he merely knocked unconscious?

All around, the villagers shook their heads. A few of them looked around in confusion, while others stumbled here and there. All of them backed away from Asa. He pulled the fairy blade and tossed it away before he shifted back to his human form. His body was slick with blood, but he met her eyes and smiled.

“We did it, Willow.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he crumpled. A few of the villagers gasped and backed further away. Convinced that the thrall was over, Willow released her parents and scrambled to her feet. She started forward, but her father was suddenly there. He grabbed her, thrust her behind him, and raced forward. He snatched up the fairy blade. With a howl that ripped from his throat, he charged Asa’s unconscious form.

“No!” Willow raced after him. Once more, she tackled him to the ground. They both went sprawling. Willow climbed over her father and threw herself over Asa’s prone form. As the villagers started to crowd in, she glared at all of them, shielding him with her body. “You idiots! He just saved all our lives and you want to kill him?”

Her father picked up the blade again. “Get out of the way, Willow.”

“What the hell?” She clung to her dragon tighter. “He fought through the spell holding him and saved us all. Put that down right this instant! You, go get yarrow. I need to treat his wounds. And you,” she pointed at her dad, “I need you to put that sword down. Someone tell me if that fairy is still alive.”

Her brother came up behind their father. “Fairy? Spells?”

“He kidnapped you,” her father said. “I won’t let him take you again.”

“He didn’t kidnap me. I went with him.” The actual details could be sorted out. “I wanted to leave and Asa gave me the opportunity. If the only time you actually started to care about me was when I was in the hands of a dragon who loved me more than you ever did, then you might as well drive that sword through both of us.”

The villagers all stared at her as though she was insane. Only one of them checked Sherwood and looked up with a grim expression. “The dragon killed your friend.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “No, the dragon killed the madman who put you all under his spell and wanted to destroy the world. Get me that yarrow right away.”

She looked around. Everybody was staring at her as though she had grown a second head. Apparently, none of them understood what she was saying. Slowly she eased up. Well, if they wouldn’t help him because he had saved them, then maybe they’d listen to fear.

“Asa is good friends with the king of Cendas,” she said. “If he dies, there will be hell to pay.”

That got them moving. Willow could have rolled her eyes, but she was too focused on her dragon. She stroked his hair back from his face, listening to his labored breathing.

“I’m here,” she whispered to him. “I’m not going anywhere.”