Page 46

46

Damsel

Anya

M any things happened in the moments after my assailant took aim.

First, I lifted my magic beyond the bounds of his power, thrusting my shout in Oderin’s direction to wake him. While I did, I covered my face with the book. An arrow thudded into the thick volume, knocking me back with force and nicking my forehead. The next arrow was blocked by Oderin’s axe, the metal arrow tip pinging off the flat head of his blade as he deflected the shot.

I dropped the arrow-skewered book and scrambled back, using my sound magic to hurl echoes and shouts at my assailant’s ears; it wasn’t much, but it had an effect, distracting him enough for Oderin to stride forward and knock the longbow from his hands. Oderin then used the butt of his axe to strike the man’s temple; my assailant crumpled, his head knocking against a rock as he landed.

With our enemy limp at his feet, Oderin rounded on me, panting. “Are you hurt?” he asked, dropping to his knees. He reached up, thumb wiping blood from the place above my eyebrow where the arrow had scratched me.

Oderin’s attention dropped to the book. Its gold debossed title was illuminated by the dim light of our smoldering fire, plain to see.

“How in the Fates did you get your hands on that?” He promptly tossed the volume—arrow and all—onto the coals. Flames flared to life on the dry paper, eating the pages hungrily. “Never mind, don’t tell me. I don’t wish to be incriminated.”

My wrists were quivering uncontrollably, rattling my shackles. “Who was he?”

My attacker’s body was limp, his mouth hanging open. Blood from the gash on his head was trickling into his eye socket.

“He is Heris. The blow knocked him out, but I didn’t kill him.” Oderin produced a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked my shackles, then draped them over his arm as he approached the unconscious man. “He’s a knight.”

“Like Idris?”

“Only by Order,” Oderin said sharply—then hoisted Heris up by the armpits and dragged him toward a nearby tree.

I rose on shaky legs, resting a palm against the natural stone wall to steady myself. “Why was he here? What does he want with me?”

“Obviously, he wanted to kill you.” Oderin grasped Heris’s floppy wrists, encircled his arms around the tree, and shackled the unconscious knight in place. When Oderin was done, he tossed the keys into the bushes, strode back to me, and began rolling up his blankets. “We need to get out of here.”

“Why would he want me dead?” I insisted.

Oderin didn’t answer. He got to work saddling his horse and securing gear. “You have hands now. Use them.”

I pointed at Heris. “You’re just going to leave him here?”

“I don’t kill other knights, unless duty demands it,” Oderin said, tightening a strap with a quick yank. “If Heris is here, so are others. He’ll be found. He’ll serve as a delay—and hopefully a warning to let us be.”

At the mention of others, I glanced around at the black shapes of the surrounding trees. They were too tall to be human, but as their branches rustled in the wind, I found myself bracing for hidden threats.

“What is going on?” I asked quietly.

“I’ll explain on the ride.”

Oderin’s explanation was lacking.

As we raced into the night, all he was willing—or able—to imply was that Heris was the leader of a powerful and ruthless faction amongst the Valiant Knights, happy to dispatch threats to his own secret dealings within the Order. What those secret dealings entailed, Oderin wasn’t sure, but apparently my relationship to Idris made me a threat. I also learned that Heris and Idris had a history, about which Oderin seemed to know plenty but was unwilling to provide details.

Heris was yet another yarn in the tangled situation from which I’d been trying to cut myself free. How I’d ended up in the middle of such a vast tapestry—threaded with monsters, politics, and nefarious factions within secret Orders—was beyond me.

All I wanted was to return home to Waldron. Quaint, uncomplicated Waldron.

The next two days and nights were strenuous. Oderin pushed our horses hard, keeping a pace meant to evade and escape any other knights on our trail. With my hands unbound, I was able to ride more deftly, but after weeks on the road, wracked with stress, my body was bone-cold, weak, and exhausted.

On the morning we reached the path that led to the Well of Fate, fog hung around us like a curtain. The pines of the western forest were a dark mass up ahead, their tips piercing the low mist like sharp teeth. With my senses on high alert, I opened my hearing to the thicket. Somewhere within, the River Gray flowed, its current swift and crisp to my ears. I heard no moans, no howls, no signs of any life at all.

I remembered the report I read on Oderin’s desk. Yar-on-Gray—the town south of here—had been completely overrun. Was that a sign that the monsters had vacated this area, or had their numbers outgrown it?

We both dismounted. My mare danced nervously sideways, emitting a nervous keen as she eyed the trees. I patted her neck, urging her to be still as Oderin and I met silently between our mounts. Our breaths rose in puffs, disappearing into the mist.

“The pool is pretty much a straight shot from here, but the fog will make it hard to keep direction,” Oderin whispered as he adjusted the cloak at my neck. “Move swiftly, and you should reach the River Gray shortly after nightfall. Cross at the old stone bridge, then continue on through the night. Idris said you have hearing magic?”

Touching my mother’s cloak pin at my throat, I nodded.

“Listen for the geysers. They’ll keep you heading in the right direction. You’ll feel the air temperature warm up as you near the pools.”

“What of the—” I pressed my lips together, willing myself not to cry as fear took hold. “I saw the report on your desk, about Yar-on-Gray.”

Oderin’s jaw clenched. “We are miles north of Yar. It would not be unreasonable to hope that the harbingers of Yar’s tragedy are still preoccupied.”

I marveled at his careful phrasing.

Oderin patted my cloak-wrapped shoulder. After tearing my spare trousers while riding yesterday, I was back in my Fate Ceremony dress, which was warmer than the tunics Hattie had packed me. I felt clumsy—not just due to the heavy fabric that swaddled my still-chilled body, but in my acute lack of fighting skill.

If I encountered a monster, I would be a goner.

Oderin released my shoulder and went to his horse’s flank. An angular bulk wrapped in thin fabric was fastened there, behind his saddle; he unwrapped it to reveal a small crossbow with silver detailing. It was beautiful. Deadly.

He handed it to me.

The weapon was heavier than I anticipated, cumbersome in my reluctant grasp. Oderin knelt in front of me and wrapped a belt around my hips underneath my cloak. On the belt, he fastened a small quiver filled with bolts the length of my forearm.

When he stood again, he whispered, “Do you know how to use it?”

I shook my head.

He rested his palms atop my hands, guiding them into place. Wordlessly, he showed me how to lock the bow back with a separate lever, where to secure a bolt, and the location of the trigger. I committed his guided motions to memory, even as the weapon itself brought me dismay. What good would this be against an abomination?

Unless… I studied the crossbow a little closer.

Oderin must’ve seen the change in my expression. “This weapon is not the same as Halgren,” he said with a shake of his head. “Power lies in our Oaths.”

My face fell.

He ducked his head, meeting my gaze. “Do not despair, Anya. This crossbow can still do harm. Use it not to defeat, but to deflect.” He lifted the crossbow from my hands and hung it on a two-pronged hook on my belt, tucking the lever beside the quiver at my other hip.

With the gear balanced across my waist, I felt furthered weighed down, but bolstered, too. “Thank you,” I said, hoping my sincerity was clear in my voice.

Oderin brushed my hair from my face with the affection of an older brother. “Do me a favor, would you?” he murmured. “Don’t die and break my friend’s heart. I don’t think Idris could stand to lose yet another person he cares about.”

I rolled my shoulders back. “Death isn’t the only way he could lose me.” I glanced up at Oderin. “Do me a favor, would you?”

He arched a brow.

“Be here when I return.”

Without another word, I walked into the Western Wood alone to face my Fate.