Carrying Eventide in his strong arms, Eventide’s grandfather rushed toward the elevator, waiting impatiently for it to arrive and all but barreling inside as soon as the doors opened, hammering the ground floor button.

“Sensei,” Eventide said worriedly, “will this injury stop me from going on the hunt during Jól?”

“I don’t know.” Locking eyes with her, he continued, “I hope not. You’re to become a grown woman on that day, and I’m damned if I let these bastards stop that. But you do need to rest now. I’ll take us somewhere safe. And one more thing: While we’re in town, I am your grandfather, not your sensei. Understand?”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Eventide replied with a slight smirk.

The elevator reached the ground floor, and the door opened to the lobby, where three security guards stood waiting for him.

“You can’t take her, sir,” the one in front said.

“The hell I can’t!” Eventide’s grandfather spat. “She’s my granddaughter. You can’t keep her!”

“Sir, I need you to calm down and step away from her,” the guard said as the three began reaching for their batons.”

Eventide’s grandfather placed her on her feet and marched right toward them, and Eventide followed. As soon as she got close to them, she rushed one of them, ignoring the pain as she spun on her foot and planted her boot into the guard’s head, forcing him to the ground. She immediately twisted his arm and planted her knee on his elbow, snapping it backward. The guard’s screams filled the lobby, as did the shrieks of the bystanders.

“Grandpa, we need to leave now!” Eventide screamed over the guard’s voice. As she looked over to her grandfather, she was surprised to see that he had already downed the other two guards. His cold eyes locked with hers for a few moments, and Eventide looked down at the guard under her. Raising her fist, she punched him in the temple, knocking him out, and her grandfather picked her up and rushed outside into the freezing night.

Eventide quickly spotted her grandfather’s horse. Placing two fingers to her lips, she gave a shrill, though pained, whistle, alerting the horse to her presence. “Vinr, come!”

The horse looked up, whinnied and trotted over to the pair. Being as gentle as he could, her grandfather placed Eventide onto the saddle, patting the horse’s neck before climbing on behind her. Giving a crack of the reins, the horse bolted out of the parking lot into the street. Eventide looked back to see more guards coming out of the hospital. Smirking in triumph, she turned back to see houses, trees, bus stops and signs fly by the pair as they raced down the street.

“Take the reins,” her grandfather yelled out. “Veer him left, Evey. Left now.”

“Where are we going?” Eventide yelled back, veering the horse left to avoid a very busy intersection. “I don’t understand, Grandfather.”

To her surprise, her grandfather physically turned around, riding the horse backwards as he scanned the area for anyone following them. After a minute, sure that no one was following them, he turned himself around again and took the reins from Eventide, bringing Vinr to a slow trot. Looking around he gestured towards a house, leading the horse towards it.

“Who lives there, Grandfather?”

Without answering, her grandfather led the horse around the back of the house and dismounted, gently helping Eventide off the horse. He led Eventide to the back of the house and knocked on the door.

“I’m coming. Hold on,” a stern voice called from behind the door. As the door opened, Eventide and her grandfather were greeted by a stout man with short, red hair, cerulean eyes, broad muscles, and tattoos of intricate runes, Valnut’s spears, and bear paws over most of his upper arms, face and neck.

“Ah, Cernunnos, my old friend,” the strange man said, beaming a great smile. “Is it really you? I thought I wouldn’t see you until Jól.”

Taking him into a hug, Cernunnos replied, “Yes, it’s me, you old hound dog.” Eventide watched as the two took each other by the forearms and slammed their foreheads into each other’s, grinning. Turning to Eventide, Cernunnos said, “Brynjar, my old friend, this is my granddaughter Eventide Shimmer Soleil.”

Brynjar offered her his hand, and she gave him a wary look before taking his hand into her own, placing her free hand against her left side to put pressure on the pain. Seeing she was hurt, Brynjar opened the door for them, ushering both inside into the living room and gesturing towards a wooden chair next to a lit hearth.

“Let me go put your horse into my garage so that no one will be tempted to take him.”

“I better be the one to do that, Brynjar,” Cernunnos said. “I don’t want you to get hurt if Vinr decides to bolt.” Helping his granddaughter into the chair, he said to her, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Evey. Please let him help you.”

Nodding, Eventide removed her linen shirt, covering her chest with her hands as Brynjar checked her ribs. Making a clicking noise with his tongue, he got up and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a black, leather bag. Eventide watched curiously as he set the bag down, but before he could search through it, the pair heard a door open and slam shut as an excited voice called out from the kitchen.

“Father, Father, come see this!” Suddenly, a young girl with mud-red hair ran into the living room and froze as she and Eventide locked eyes. The girl wore a grey sweatshirt, dark-blue pants, knee-high, black, leather boots, and a headband styled with a wolf pendant. Her piercing, bleach-green eyes struck down to Eventide’s soul, and Eventide gulped, her lips trembling.

“Father,” the girl said impatiently, “who is this? And more importantly, where is her shirt?!”

“Fireheart,” Brynjar replied sternly, “This is Eventide Shimmer Soleil. Now, let me check her wounds.” Once more, the group heard a door open and close, and Cernunnos walked back into the living room, taking a seat next to Eventide. “I need to check your ribs to see if they are broken. Will you let me, Eventide?” Brynjar said, adding, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Grandfather, do you trust him?” Eventide asked warily. Laying his hand on her thigh, Cernunnos nodded with a warm smile. Seeing she wasn’t in any danger, she turned her attention to Brynjar. “Yes, you may check my ribs.” Eventide then turned her attention to Fireheart as she added impatiently, “And if you would sit still and act as a kona instead of a troll, perhaps I could get my wounds healed and be on my way.”

“What did you just call me?!” Fireheart screamed, stomping her foot as she yelled to Brynjar, “Father I demand a fight for my honor!”

“What did I say something wrong?” Eventide replied. “You were fidgeting with that necklace around your neck so much that it was driving me nuts. Hrakning was not my intention. It's just that Gjalpar skær isn't going anywhere.”

Fireheart glared at Eventide and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her father wrap the last of the bandages around Eventide’s ribs and chest. His work done, he turned his attention towards his daughter, sighing, “Fireheart Skoll, are you sure you really want to fight with her? A warrior doesn't attack one who can’t—”

“Excuse me!” Eventide cut him off. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much!” Turning her attention to the Fireheart, she added, “Besides, I won’t hurt her. All I’m going to do is wear her out, then maybe, she’ll be in the mood to talk. Maybe we can even be friends.”

Grabbing Eventide’s shirt and tossing it at her, Fireheart smirked, saying to Cernunnos, “I suppose you are going to try to stop us?”

“Absolutely. My granddaughter is in no condition to compete with you, regardless of whether it’s a fight or a simple race.”

Eventide thought for a moment, before an idea came to her. Getting up, she walked to the kitchen and looked toward the backyard, spying a small pile of logs to the side.

“May I use one of those logs?” she asked Brynjar, pointing to them. “I won’t use them to hurt her. I just need to draw in the snow for a minute.”

“Fine, but do only that,” Brynjar replied before crossing his arms and turning to Fireheart, who was glaring daggers at Eventide. “And if you hurt Eventide, I’ll be more than a little upset, child.”

“I understand, Father. I won’t hurt her.” Fireheart stepped out into the snow, cracking her knuckles as she reached Eventide, who was getting a small branch from the pile. “I’m going to plant your smug face into the snow for what you said to me!”

Eventide ignored her as she found a satisfactory branch and walked into the backyard. Bending down as best as she could, she drew a line on the snow and pointed to it. “Stand here, Fireheart.”

“Fine, whatever, as long as I can kick your ass!” Fireheart replied bitterly as she stood on the line.

Eventide drew three more lines in the snow to form a square with Fireheart's line, each side a few feet in length. Finished, Eventide tossed the branch behind her and taking her place on the line opposite Fireheart. Smirking, she turned to the men, who were now watching from the house, and gestured for her grandfather to join them. Shaking his head with a sigh, he reluctantly stepped into the snow, taking his place between on the line to Eventide's left. Looking to her own father, Fireheart gestured for him to join the three. With a sigh of his own, Brynjar joined Cernunnos between the girls, standing opposite Cernunnos.

“What are you going to do, Eventide?” Brynjar asked as he took his place between them, turning and adding to Fireheart, “I’m warning you. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t, Father,” Fireheart said before saying to Eventide, “Well, come on. Let's get this over with. It's freezing out here.”

Smiling, Eventide breathed in, slowly letting her breath out in a thick fog as she slowly cracked her neck to the right and left before slowly cracking her back, wincing at the pain. Slowly, Eventide cracked her knuckles, first the right, then the left.

“Get on with it!” Fireheart yelled impatiently. “Your slower than a damn turtle!”

Smiling, Eventide looked up to the bright, full moon, spotting, to her surprise and delight, a shooting star in the sky. Sighing, she returned her gaze to Fireheart, who was positively fuming at the delay.

Finally, Eventide spoke. “This isn’t a battle of hand-to-hand combat, Fireheart, so I suggest you take a breath and calm down.”

“Well, if it’s not a fistfight, then what the hell is it?” Fireheart demanded.

“This,” Eventide replied, smirking confidently, “is a battle of insults.”

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