Grace's arms burned as she hammered the last board into place. The barn door was fixed. Finally.
"That should hold," she told the farmer. "At least until the storm passes."
The man pumped her hand enthusiastically. "Thank you, angel! Thank you so much!"
Quest counter: 19/20.
One more. Just one more and the village would have protection. Grace wiped sweat and rain from her face. Her whole body felt like one giant bruise.
"Anyone else need help?" she called out to the small crowd that had gathered.
A young woman stepped forward.
"My grandmother's stuck in her house. The door swelled shut from all the rain."
Of course it did.
Grace followed the woman through the muddy streets. The wind had gotten worse over the last hour. Not just strong—erratic. It would die completely for a few seconds, then come roaring back from a different direction. Like the Tempest couldn't make up her mind which way to blow.
[Speaking of not making up your mind...]
