In those few split seconds before the arrow is released Crozier can see the dreadful outcome: Fitzjames, arrowing piercing the center of his chest, falling backwards onto the snow to bleed out from yet another hole that won’t heal. He sees it with such clarity that when Raju misses, stumbles over the shot due to his presence or the shouting or whatever had snapped him back to reality, he almost doesn’t believe it. Fitzjames is dead once more, and by the hand of someone he loves, and it’s dreadful and horrifying and Crozier is absolutely certain he’s living a waking nightmare.

The arrow skids to a weak little stop on the ground, and it’s apparent Fitzjames was spared. He slumps slightly in relief and steps down from off the porch, glancing between the two of them with mild annoyance.

“I think it best if we go inside, all of us.”