For a second, I thought I was having a flashback. That made more sense than incoming artillery here, now, in Texas. But the Princess could hear it too. She’d grabbed hold of my shirt in both fists, terrified. I didn’t know how, but war had found us both again, and it was going to steal her from me—

I grabbed her and threw her down in the hay, then covered her body with mine. The whistle became a scream. I braced myself and closed my eyes—

The round hit the roof right above our heads but there was no explosion. Just a dull whump. What the hell? I rolled over and looked up.

The cracks in the roof had turned a blinding white, so bright it hurt to look. As I watched, something fell through one of the cracks. No, not fell: dripped, each drop trailing fire.

It landed in the hay and erupted into flames. More drips were falling all around us. The Princess rolled out of the way, breathless, as one of them just missed her. Fires were starting everywhere. “What is it?!”

Another long whistle. Another whump above us, then another. “Some sort of incendiary rounds.” The roof of the barn was on fire, above us, and the hay in the hayloft was going up fast. “Come on!”

I grabbed her hand and ran with her to the ladder, then pushed her down ahead of me. By the time we were down, the hayloft was a roaring inferno. And now the lower level was starting to catch. The ceiling above us wouldn’t hold for long: everything was tinder-dry, this time of year, and the barn was old and rickety. We only had minutes.

We raced towards the door...and stumbled to a stop as we saw the scene outside.

The incendiary rounds were barely visible, black against the night sky as they fell in long arcs from somewhere near the road. But wherever they hit, they exploded in a blinding flash, long trails of flaming liquid spraying out to start countless new fires. It wasn’t just the barn they were aiming at. The fields were on fire in several places and every few seconds another fire would erupt. They were tracking back and forth across our ranch, making sure they hit everything.

Out by the side of the road, the assassins had a mortar. Just a simple metal tube, like something you’d launch fireworks from, but absolutely devastating in the wrong hands. One guy would be kneeling beside it, dropping in a round every few seconds, and another one would be watching the ranch with binoculars, helping him adjust the aim.

The ceiling creaked. We had to get out of there now. I grabbed the Princess’s hand and ran through the door—

There was a feeling. Call it the ground pounder’s instinct, the one you get from being cannon fodder for so many years. I hurled myself down, pulling the Princess down too—

A bullet hissed over my head, so close I could feel its heat.

We hit the ground and I grabbed her and dragged her back inside the blazing barn. “Sniper,” I panted. Suddenly, I understood the assassin’s plan. There was a third guy out there with a rifle. They were smart. They knew we’d have guns, on a Texas ranch. So instead of storming the house, they were going to burn all the buildings and shoot us as the fire forced us outside.

We stared at each other, panting in fear. The air was scorching our lungs, now, and even with the open door the barn was filling up with choking clouds of smoke. “What do we do?” coughed the Princess.

There was a creak and then a splintering crash: something falling, up in the hayloft. I shoved the Princess away from me, then fell back the other way. A roof timber crashed through the ceiling and slammed into the floor with a ground-shaking thud, right where we’d been standing. Liquid fire rained down all around it and the Princess screamed as her nightdress burst into flames.

I was on her in seconds, slapping at the flames with my hands. She tried to grab my wrists to stop me but I knocked her hands out of the way and smothered the flames, flattening my palms over her stomach even though it made me wince. Then I grabbed hold of her nightdress and hauled it up, baring her. The pale skin of her stomach was flawless, untouched. Thank God. She took hold of my wrists, looking at my burned palms but I shook my head. I’m fine.

There was a creak above us, loud enough to drown out the roaring flames. It went on and on: the building’s death rattle. Now that one of the big roof timbers was gone, the whole place was collapsing in on itself. The air singed the little hairs in my nose and scorched my throat. “We can’t stay here,” I rasped between coughs. “How fast can you run?”

She followed my gaze to the door. I saw her go pale as she realized what I was suggesting. “Quite fast,” she said weakly.

“You gotta run faster than that. Faster than you’ve ever run in your life. And you gotta run random, not in a straight line.”

She shook her head. “No.” There was real fear on her face: she’d probably seen snipers at work in the war. She knew what they could do. “I can’t!”

There was another creak from above. Another timber fell, and liquid fire trickled down after it. I could hear the whole building moving, now, boards cracking and splintering as they bore loads they were never meant to. We had seconds. “It’s sixty yards to the house. You can sprint that in ten seconds. He’ll have time for maybe three shots. We can do it.”

She shook her head, terrified.

I took her face between my hands. God, she was so beautiful. So special. “You can do this,” I told her. “I know how brave you are. And you’re not alone anymore.”

She stared back at me...and nodded. I took her hand.

The barn creaked...and this time, the noise didn’t stop. I didn’t dare look up.

“One,” I said, bending my legs. “Two. Three!”

We ran.

The night air was shockingly cold after the fire, like jumping into a lake. And the night was black, after the blinding brightness of the fire: the only light was from the blooms of fire as mortar rounds hit the fields around us. We ran flat out, legs pumping, lungs heaving, and we covered ground fast. For a glorious few seconds, I thought maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe the sniper wasn’t watching, maybe he’d changed position—

There was a tug on my shirt as a bullet passed through the flapping fabric. I cut left for two steps, then right—

The Princess screamed. I looked at her in panic: was she hit? But she was still running: the bullet had just passed so close, she’d heard it. Twenty yards to the house. I jinked right, then left. Ten yards—

The bullet was meant for her but it passed between us, clipping my left thigh. I grunted and sprawled on my face, my leg exploding into pain. My hand was torn from hers and she ran on a few steps...then slowed.

“No!” I yelled. “Keep going!” I was scrambling to my feet but my leg didn’t want to cooperate. “Keep going!”

She was nearly safe. But she turned and ran back to me.

I imagined the sniper lining up his next shot. But before I could stop her, she’d hauled my arm over her shoulder and was helping me heave myself to my feet. I couldn’t speak: I was too scared for her, too focused on the bullet I knew was coming—

It hit the ground an inch from her right foot. We stumbled the last few yards….

And then we were hidden by the house. We fell heavily against its wall, panting. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kill her for putting herself at risk for me. In the end, I just said, “Thank you.”

I felt my leg, wincing. The bullet had just clipped the flesh: it would slow me down, but it would be okay as long as I got a dressing on it.

There was a subtle change in the whistle of the mortar rounds. I glimpsed one arcing overhead, followed it down….

It hit the roof of the house and erupted into flames. I froze, staring up at it in horror. A few seconds later, another one hit the end wall. Flaming liquid bathed the house from roof to ground and the flames roared as they took hold. Oh Jesus...Dad is in there! I took a step towards the door, then stopped.

I couldn’t leave her alone. But I couldn’t leave them to die in there.

I turned to the Princess. “Stay here,” I ordered. “Stay right here! I have to help them.” Then I remembered Jakov. Shit! This might all be part of the plan: the assassins attack and their man on the inside kills her while everyone’s looking outward. “If you see Jakov, don’t trust him!” I told her. “Don’t let him near you!”

She nodded.

And I ran.