Page 28 of The Arrow and the Alder

M ist pressed in like the tide, reaching its serpentine fingers into the chasm where Rys worked, chiseling into the rock. Sweat glistened upon his forehead and clung to his dirtied brow as he swung the pickax around. Again, and again. Ax struck rock in a chorus of misery, a timpani of pain.

And the mist came alive with shrieking.

Shadows swirled behind the murky veil, making it froth and boil. One of those shadows swooped down and clutched Rys by the tunic, digging its claws into Rys’s flesh.

And it tore Rys’s body apart.

Rys screamed in agony as the depraved turned its head, bearing Alder’s face.

Seph sat up with a gasp, her brow damp with sweat. The room was dim, the bedside candle low and struggling. She sagged back against her chair and shut her eyes, but all she could see was Alder.

Seph dragged her hands over her face and opened her eyes, which was when she caught sight of a glimmer of white on the table before her.

It was the ivory bow—the one Alder had given her—and beside it was a note. She grabbed the paper and took it over to the candle, where the bold, yet elegant script came into focus.

“ Whatever you decide, this belongs to you .”

There was no signature.

Someone had also left traveling clothes draped across her empty bed: pants, boots, a loose tunic, and a long mahogany coat trimmed in silver enchantments.

Had Abecka left these?

Seph read the words again before setting down the paper and lifting the featherlight bow.

Whatever you decide …

What was there to decide? Even if a way did open at the warfront, Seph was still left with one cold, hard truth: they only had three months until the curse destroyed the worlds.

The world could end, and she could still be waiting.

With sudden decision, Seph changed into the attire, surprised by how perfectly everything fit. Though she supposed it wasn’t so surprising; Abecka and Seph were built the same. She laced up her boots, loosely braided her hair, grabbed the bow and quiver, and headed out the door.

She made a few wrong turns along the way and eventually stopped when her path broke into three.

“Are you lost, Your Highness?” said a little voice.

Seph whipped around to find the child with lavender eyes regarding her with open wonder. She was a sprightly thing, all knees and elbows, and she didn’t appear to be much older than Nora. Though that meant very little in kith years.

“I was trying to get to the training yard,” Seph said. “Are you able to point me in the right direction?”

The girl cocked her head, much like a bird. “You’ll want to retrace your steps to the tunnel, then you’ll need to walk down where you mistakenly walked up. Three right turns and over the bridge, and you’ll see it.”

“Thank you,” Seph said after a moment. The child did not talk like a child. “What’s your name?”

“Rasia of Bellenore.” She spoke with such authority that it made Seph smile. “The training yard is empty for now, but the others are restless with Prince Alder’s mission ahead, so if you wish to practice alone, I wager you have one hour.”

Seph’s smile faltered. “How do you?—”

But Rasia of Bellenore grinned and scampered off into the shadows and out of sight. Seph stared in her absence, wondering at the girl before walking on to the training yard.

As Rasia had said, it was empty.

What a strange little girl!

The yard overlooked a wide veil of falling water, and Seph had first spied the space on her way to the gathering yesterday, noting the half dozen kith practicing with swords and bows. There’d also been targets floating about, but she saw none of those now. Was it something she needed to conjure? Perhaps she should have asked?—

The moment she stepped onto the floor, energy tingled through her body, particularly at Rys’s ring. A silvery orb appeared. It hovered like a small moon at the edge of the yard, pulsing like a beating heart, while its center darkened to the color of wine.

There you are .

How fascinating that it should react to her person. Did it respond to any body that set foot upon this platform, or was it responding to something else? Was it…responding to her eloit ?

You are more kith than you realize .

Seph drew an arrow and nocked it in place. The orb moved as though triggered by her action and began floating across an invisible arc.

Fascinating.

This was so much more effective than her stationary targets back at home.

Seph flexed her fingers around the grip and pulled back, pressing her wrist to her cheek. The blue skin of her burn tightened, and while it was a little uncomfortable, it wasn’t painful. Even that settled into the background as she focused on the familiar senses of wood grain and string pinched between her fingers and the strain through the muscles in her arm. The world in all its chaos drew to a sharp point at the end of a strip of wood. Here, with archery, everything made sense. Everything had singular purpose.

Survive or die.

Seph inhaled slowly, gazing down the length of the arrow’s shaft, her gaze fixed on the floating orb. She released.

Thwick .

The arrow tore across the space and sank into the orb right at the center. The orb vanished and her arrow clattered to the stones just as another orb appeared. Like the first, this bore a crimson heart and followed some invisible arc, but this one moved faster.

Seph drew another arrow, set, and pulled.

Thwick .

Her arrow struck true, and just like the first, the target dissolved into thin air as another appeared. Faster and faster her targets moved, and then they came at her. Vanishing and reappearing, all across the training yard, each shot more complicated than the last. But Seph did not stop, and when her quiver was finally empty, the orbs ceased, giving her the opportunity to gather her scattered arrows. It was ingenious, really, and Seph marveled at the enchantments behind it—at this entire world, the one she’d only heard about in stories but now experienced firsthand.

A world that had less than three months before it succumbed to one of two evils.

Seph loaded her bow again, and no sooner had she pulled back the string than an orb sped straight at her from the side. She whirled and fired, and her arrow struck its center.

Seph loosed a breath and wiped her brow, but this orb did not vanish. It divided in two. Seph frowned and reached for her quiver, and there she hesitated. She recalled how Alder had fired two arrows at once, and so she drew two as well, wondering how in the world he’d managed it. She’d never done it before, but he’d done it, so clearly it was possible.

Both orbs rushed her, and she set her two arrows and pulled back. Seph had no idea what would happen should she miss, but she fired: one arrow struck, but the second sailed past, and the other orb rammed right into her.

Energy zinged through her body like a bolt of lightning. Seph gasped as that orb rebounded and divided into two parts. The pair came at her again, and Seph hurriedly pulled two more arrows from her quiver, set, and fired.

This time, she missed both, and the orbs collided with her body.

“Ah!” Seph cried out from the shock of energy that jolted down her limbs. The orbs circled around her then coalesced into one, hovering at the perimeter as if giving her a moment to recover.

Seph shook out the residual energy tingling through her arms and hands, withdrew one more arrow, and she was just setting it in place when two warm and very large hands covered her eyes.

Seph froze.

“ Now shoot.” Alder’s voice was low and right in her ear.

Seph’s heart fluttered. She hated that it fluttered. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

But Alder only moved closer. His chest touched her back, and his breath ruffled her hair. He smelled like the forest after a rain, and something very masculine. “Your eyes deceive you,” he said. “Trust your instinct.”

“If only I’d trusted my instinct with you .” She twisted out of his grasp, then—with lightning-quick reflexes—he was standing right in front of her.

Standing over her, letting her feel every inch of his bearing. His eyes were granite, his features sharp as blades. “What are you doing, Josephine?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Go. Take Abecka’s offer, and wait by the Rift. You don’t want this life.”

He knew about Abecka’s offer. Suddenly, something else made sense. “ You left the bow!”

He didn’t deny it.

Which meant he’d also left the clothes that fit her perfectly. Seph decided not to dwell on that part, especially because he’d given her both in hopes that she’d take them and leave Velentis. Regardless, his persistence became her resolve.

She tipped her face closer to his in defiance. “Well, I’ve got news for you, prince . I’m not going anywhere. You can say whatever you want, but you hold no authority over me, you self-serving ass.”

Alder’s expression darkened, and he leaned closer—so close that if she stood upon her toes, she could kiss him. “Call me what you will. I don’t care. I’ve been called worse, but if you intend to fight alongside me and my kin, you’ve got a lot more to learn. Our enemy will not stand idly beneath a tree while you cautiously take aim. It will not wander into a clearing you have carefully chosen, and I don’t care what Abecka told you, but I will not risk the others’ lives for your ignorance.”

Seph’s breath mixed with his in that small space between them. “I hate you.”

“Good. Now close your eyes and shoot the damned target.”

Seph silently fumed at him, then turned away and set her arrow upon her bow. She didn’t do it because he told her to. She did it because he believed she couldn’t. There was a difference.

Your eyes deceive you, he’d said. Trust your instinct .

Seph closed her eyes, trying to imagine the orb in her mind, which was difficult because her thoughts were fire. The training yard remained silent, and the seconds stretched. Seph flexed her fingers around the grip.

“This is impossible,” she hissed.

“It only seems that way because you haven’t done it before.”

“I haven’t done it before because it cannot be done .”

“That’s a lie you’re telling yourself to alleviate the pain of your own failing.”

“And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Shoot the arrow, Josephine.”

Seph pressed her lips together. She tried to get a sense for the target, but there was nothing. The only thing she could sense was the Weald Prince beside her, and she had half a mind to shoot him , which made her wonder if this was exactly why he’d made the bargain. He’d known full well the day was coming when she’d want to shoot him right through his black and withered heart. “I can’t do this!”

“Yes, you can.”

“Why are you telling me that I can while also telling me to leave?”

“Because you don’t want to leave,” he said fiercely. “And you will never forgive yourself if you do.”

His words stopped her cold.

Seph cracked her eyes open only to find him staring straight back, his gaze as fierce as his tone had been.

“You don’t want to survive anymore; you want to live ,” he continued through his teeth. “You want to face your enemy directly and end this war, because you are so tired of running and hiding, and you would rather die free than endure that prison of existence in Harran, and so I will tell you again: shoot—the—damned—target.”

Seph stared up at him, her heart pounding, her legs trembling. His words were like the arrow in her hands, sharp and straight and piercing—right into her heart.

How did he see her so clearly?

Especially when she had missed him so completely? Saints, she was a fool.

There was a challenge in his eyes, and something else Seph could not read, but it made her blood run hot, and so she closed her eyes. She shut them tight and steadied her breath, and she tried to ignore the feel of him right there . She imagined the orb floating at the center of the training yard, tried to imagine its exact placement, and then she released the arrow.

She didn’t need sight to know that she’d missed. Something clattered, and Seph opened her eyes again to see her little arrow drop to the stones while the orb raced toward her. She tried to jump out of the way, but the orb struck her spine and dissolved into a cloud of tremors and electricity as Seph cursed and winced.

Alder appeared entirely unaffected by her pain. “Again.”

Seph glowered. “This is ridiculous! No one can?—”

Alder whirled away from her and drew his own arrow from the quiver at his back. He dragged the fletching across his lips then set the arrow and pulled. But he did not raise the bow.

He closed his eyes instead.

The moment held and expanded as he breathed in deeply, as if breathing the surroundings into himself. Every scent, every taste, every sound. If he’d come to her home in Harran as he was now, she would have known at once that he was kith royalty. Authority seeped out of his pores and his bearing, the kind of self-possession that came only with years of strict tutelage given to the highborn.

Alder tipped his head a fraction, as if listening to the world around him. His tapered ear twitched just slightly. Seph would not have noticed had she not been watching him so closely, and in one swift motion, Alder raised the bow and fired.

The arrow struck its target right at its heart. The orb sizzled as it vanished, Alder’s silver arrow dropped, and another orb appeared.

Seph was still reeling from her surprise when Alder withdrew another arrow from his quiver—eyes still closed—set, pulled, and fired. This orb met the same fate as the first. He did it again, and again, never once missing his mark, and when two appeared, somehow he knew, then drew two arrows, nocked them both, and fired.

Behind her, voices cheered. A few clapped. At least a dozen Weald kith had gathered on the platform above, including Rian and the lavender-eyed child named Rasia. Seph wondered how long they’d been standing there, but she was pulled from her spell as Alder strode across the training yard to gather his arrows.

“How did you do that?” she managed, dazedly following, frustrated that he had done it.

He plucked an arrow off the ground. “Each target is suffused with eloit . Your own eloit should respond to it like it would respond to a real mark, and you don’t need eyes to sense that.”

Seph approached Alder and held out the arrows she’d gathered.

He didn’t take them but looked at her instead. His gaze cut straight to her soul. “If you are kith, you do not need eyes to see. Eyes deceive us most of the time anyway. You must see with your eloit . Feel the target’s position by how its eloit pushes against your surroundings. Aim at its heart, and you will strike truth.”

Seph did not think he spoke only of the arrow just then. “And what is the truth, Prince Alder?”

His jaw ticked. “I might hurry if I were you. You’ve got yourself an audience.”

“Right, thanks for that.”

“They were here before I showed up,” he replied, and he nodded at the little orb that had appeared.

Seph was still processing the fact that they’d been watching her when she caught sight of Rasia again. She thought she saw the girl smile, but she ducked out of sight before Seph could be sure.

And Alder was still waiting.

Seph studied the target and its pulsing crimson heart. How in the saints had he done it? Now she had to try. No excuses. If she was kith, she should be able to tap into her eloit . If she couldn’t, she had no business ever going to the surface with Alder.

Seph set her arrow, pulled, and?—

“Wait,” she said, lowering her bow. “Bind my eyes.”

The Weald Prince frowned.

“Do it,” she insisted. “That way there is no doubting. Not even for them.” Her gaze flickered to the kith gathered above, but she was not doing this just for them or even for Alder. She needed to know. Alder had shot blind, so she knew it could be done, and if Seph possessed the abilities Abecka claimed she did—that she was somehow tied to the coat and Canna’s restoration—then Seph needed to do this for herself.

That way she’d have the courage for whatever came next.

Alder considered her before stepping around her. A moment later, he placed a cloth around her eyes, and then his hands were in her hair, and she did not wince as a few strands caught in his knot.

His hands lingered in her hair a moment longer before he pulled them away, and she felt rather than heard him take a step back.

Breathe, she told herself.

She drew back the arrow and raised her bow. The world fell silent except for the thrum of falling water, but even that faded from her mind.

Feel the target’s position by how its eloit pushes against the fabric of your surroundings. Aim at its heart, and you will strike truth.

Someone softly cleared their throat, and another whispered, but Seph ignored them all. She shut out everything except for the feel of the grip in her hands, the arrow pinched between her fingers, and the weight of the bow upon her arms. She imagined the bow, every curve and every line. The way the arrow balanced upon her middle finger.

Breathe.

What did eloit feel like? But even as she asked the question, she realized she already knew.

Because she felt it with Alder.

Perhaps it was the quiet, perhaps it was shutting down sight that allowed her to see , as he had said. Whatever the reason, his presence was like a string attached to her body that tugged ever so slightly, but it had always been so, she realized. She’d thought it’d been the coat, but the coat was not here, and that tug persisted all the same. Which meant it could only be him —like a torch burning steadily in her periphery. Now if only she could expand that sensation to the world around her…

An errant breeze kissed her face with a thousand droplets of water, and when it left, her mind was clear. She tilted her head as Alder had done, listening.

Feeling .

Suddenly, it wasn’t a question of whether Seph had this ability. Seph wanted the ability. She wanted to prove it to herself, prove that she was as kith as she was mortal. They had three months—three! And she refused to spend them hiding, waiting for an if .

Seph’s fingers flexed around the grip, eyes blind, which heightened all her other senses. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, hear the whispers up above.

Hear Alder’s steady breaths behind her.

See with your eloit .

Seph felt the slightest pressure in her mind, a tug forward this time and a little to the right. As she focused her attention on that sensation, it grew stronger and stronger.

Closer, and clearer.

In one swift motion, she raised her bow—her cheek pressed to her wrist—and fired with a decisive thwick .

This time, there was no sound. Seph lowered her bow and ripped off the blind just in time to see the fading remnants of the orb as her arrow clattered to the ground.

Seph looked back.

The platform above stood silent. Those gathered cast hopeful glances amidst each other, and a slow smile stretched across Rian’s face. And then her gaze landed on Alder.

Those steely grays studied her without expression. “Better,” he said and he walked away.