Chapter 17

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Ignoring Bullet’s still-healing legs, Grace mounted and rushed to help Joe.

One of the soldiers that had attacked him lay curled on the ground, groaning, but the other had Joe’s arms pinned behind him. Yanking her knife from her moccasin without hesitation, Grace plunged it into the man’s arm. He screamed and let go of Joe.

Joe reached for his gun and managed to get off a shot, but the soldier behind him rose, sword in hand. In one fluid motion, Grace hurled her tomahawk, and the man crumpled.

She reached down a hand, and Joe swung up behind her onto Bullet’s back.

They took off as Grace led a galloping Bullet toward the spot where she had last seen Sequoyah. But she had disappeared.

Where was she? Had the man dragged her into the woods?

Grace spotted Dahana on a rocky outcrop, kneeling over the body of the soldier she had seen grab Sequoyah. The young girl stood nearby. Relief coursed through Grace. Sequoyah was safe.

“Head that way,” Joe shouted.

He pointed to a riderless horse, and Grace raced after it. When they came up alongside it, Joe jumped onto the steed in one smooth movement, then charged back into the fray.

Grace followed, shooting at anything in uniform that moved. She didn’t shoot to kill. Her only thought was to stop the soldiers from harming her friends. She was with the Ndeh now, and any enemy of theirs was an enemy of hers.

Warriors gave guttural war cries; the dying and wounded men on the ground screamed and writhed in agony. To her right, she saw Tarak grab a soldier by the hair and scalp him while the man was still alive. Grace’s stomach turned, and she almost vomited.

All the blood, gore, and mayhem.

She wanted to flee, to get away — far, far away from the killing and suffering. But as long as she could fight, she had to stay and help them. Joe dodged a bullet, and Grace ducked as an arrow came flying toward her.

Sabers slashed beside her, and she saw Cheis had been knocked from his horse and was wrestling in the mud with a soldier. The man’s saber was covered in blood, and he held a fistful of Cheis’s hair, dragging him closer to the blade. Cheis kicked and punched, but the man holding him stayed just out of reach.

Grace set an arrow in her bow and let it fly. It caught the man in the throat, and he choked, grabbing for his neck as he collapsed to the ground.

Cheis tumbled to the ground as well, but then he immediately jumped to his feet, mounted his horse, pulled out his shotgun, and took aim at the man lying on the ground.

Before she could see what happened, Grace took off after Joe again. She worried that Bullet might tire and hoped desperately that she wasn’t permanently injuring him. Bullet jumped over obstacles, landing heavily on his front feet. He didn’t have his usual grace or energy. Should she dismount and send him to run to safety? Or would that only get him captured or killed?

Blood splashed the ground; dead bodies lay all around.  She had lost sight of Joe. She pulled Bullet to the right as a soldier charged toward her. She got off a shot, but her aim was low, and the bullet hit him in the thigh. He groaned and grabbed for his leg, toppling from his horse. But before she could fire again, rough hands dragged her from Bullet’s back.

A soldier pinned her to the ground. Grace’s hat flew off and her hair tumbled free.

“A girl?” A look of shock crossed the soldier’s face. “An Apache lover!” He practically spat the words.

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