Page 69

We were so close to reaching her before the menace, but unfortunately, not fast enough.

Slowly, I lower my arms to my sides as I glance between Maeva and the hulking Minotaur that dares to touch her.

Her face grows more pale by the second, her body trembling as she stops struggling against its embrace.

Don’t stop fighting, Rosey. I internally plead.

If there wasn’t an ax held against her neck, I’d rip the creature’s head off with my bare hands.

Danté tried to alert me that something was near her with his frantic whinnying.

Now my foolishness has rendered me incapacitated.

I’m unable to free her without potentially harming her.

The Minotaur has the upper hand, and I must appease him.

“If you release her immediately,” I say, “I’ll let you walk away alive.”

Well, I obviously didn’t acquire my father’s silver tongue in the gene pool, as this doesn’t sway the Minotaur in the slightest. Ignoring me, the brute leans down, inhaling her scent.

For a moment, the creature looks at Maeva with a quizzical gaze.

“Your scent is intriguing,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve smelled the likes of you before. ”

She usually smells like fresh wild flowers or roses. Has it truly been that long since this creature experienced such? I wonder.

His grip on the ax loosens, revealing a small nick where it sliced her skin.

“Well, traipsing through the woods and being chased by a band of creatures would have anyone perspiring,” Riordan interjects.

“It isn’t her perspiration that I smell, you foolish Galrosan,” the brute growls. “It’s her blood that lures me in. It’s something more…” The Minotaur trails off as if deep in thought. Furrowing his brow, he spins Maeva as he studies her. “Show me your ability, girl.”

I take a step toward the pair. “No,” I snarl. “Maeva, you can’t.”

Fire courses through her eyes as though my trepidation over her safety were a nuisance. “You don’t speak for me, High General,” she answers.

I gesture to her captor. “You can’t trust this creature,” I say.

“Creature?” the Minotaur bellows, taking a step towards me. “You dare to call me CREATURE ?”

I grip Scrisis’s hilt tightly as I inch forward, ready to deliver this beast to its death, when Maeva’s voice rings out. “I’ll show you.”

The Minotaur turns to Maeva, shortening the distance between them as he looms over her. “No tricks?” the beast asks. If I’m not mistaken, he sounds desperate, as if he already knows that Maeva’s ability is the answer to all that ails him.

Perhaps she is, but he could easily harm her if his only desire is to prove who she is.

I’d rather die than allow that to happen.

Maeva’s throat bobs as she offers a reassuring nod. “You have my word,” she says.

The Minotaur crosses its arms over its chest, creating distance between himself and Maeva. “Show me,” he says softly .

Maeva agrees, closing her eyes and opening her hands.

There’s a tremor in her body as small rivulets of starlight leak from her palms, dancing in the space between them.

Her hair floats on the phantom breeze, as if she were weightless.

When her eyes open, they’re no longer the blue of the ocean, but the color of frozen ice over the rivers in Zulgalros.

“Incredible,” the Minotaur marvels. Slowly, he reaches for Maeva’s open palms. He hesitates as his hands hover above hers.

“You have nothing to fear,” she promises.

He nods, clasping his hands with hers. Then, her ability winds up his arms. Maeva shivers as the Minotaur’s features shift between confusion and clarity. Instead of turning to ash, the opaqueness of his eyes fades. The starlight intensifies, making the pair look ethereal in its haze.

Bloody Celestae…

My Rosey finally did it.

Pride swells in my heart as the peace that radiates from her settles into my very bones. She’s light and darkness encompassed into one.

“She’s incredible,” Riordan whispers.

“She truly is,” Virgil admires.

She focuses completely on the creature before her, and it is as if her ability has taken over as she continues to push more into the creature.

When the Minotaur tries to pull away, Maeva doesn’t release him.

The wonder that was in the creature’s eyes moments before morphs into fear as he can’t escape her ability.

Virgil steps up beside the pair. “Maeva,” he says calmly.

She tilts her head in his direction, but her ice-blue eyes don’t reflect the Rosey I know.

The terrified woman from before has been replaced with a version that’s impassive.

Virgil inches closer. “That’s enough,” he whispers.

Maeva cocks her head to the side, but doesn’t release the creature.

“You’ve done well, Little Star. Now, release him. ”

As if coming back to herself, she blinks, freeing the Minotaur from her grip. Immediately, Maeva’s starlight flows back into her body .

“The sweetness of Malvorian blood,” the Minotaur murmurs, speaking more to himself, “and the bitterness of...” There’s the briefest of pauses, then the enormous beast laughs heartily. Maeva stumbles backward, right into Virgil, who steadies her. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he bellows.

“My blood has the bitterness of what?” Maeva asks.

Her question only causes the Minotaur’s laugh to turn into a roar as he carries on.

“Does her scent or starlight possibly encourage mania?” Riordan whispers.

I shrug in response.

After a moment, the creature wipes its eyes. “So, the prophecies are all true, then?” the Minotaur asks. “You’ve come to set us all free from our shackles.”

Maeva tilts her head quizzically. “I’m merely the one destined to awaken the Na Fíréin, Creature,” she replies.

“Creature?!” the Minotaur laughs.

So, it’s only acceptable when she calls him a creature then, I think.

“I’m called Darach, milady,” he continues. “I’m the leader of the Minotaurs who wander freely within these woods by the birthright passed down to me after your protectors killed Oberon.”

Oberon .

I liked this much more when I didn’t know their names.

“As for the matter of your blood, it sings to all of us that seek answers. If you don’t know the response to which you ask, then such knowledge isn’t meant for you… yet,” Darach says cryptically.

Laisren morphs back into his Galrosan form. “What knowledge?” he inquires.

Darach ignores him, reaching for the ax across his back. My shadows curl around my fingers. “Not. Another. Step,” I warn. “Using that weapon now will be your doom.”

However, Darach does something that I least expect. Kneeling before Maeva, he lays the weapon at her feet. Baffled, Maeva’s eyes flutter as she examines the ax’s fine craftsmanship. “I-I don’t understand,” she whispers.

“You’re the beacon in the mist, milady. My weapon is yours to command if you’re ever in need of my clan’s aid,” he says reverently.

She crouches before Darach. “Please, don’t kneel before me,” she says. “I’m not worthy of such reverence.”

The large brute snorts. “You have my allegiance and more,” Darach replies.

Maeva sighs, tilting her head. “What did you see when my ability enveloped you?” she asks. “I wasn’t quite myself in that moment, so I don’t remember much of the interaction.”

Darach smiles, taking her hand. “The truth of who you are and what you’ve repressed,” he answers. Then he helps Maeva to stand on her feet.

“Who-Who am I?” she asks.

The sound of snapping branches comes from the darkness of the woodland. Darach’s left ear twitches as he turns his head toward the looming trees. We pause for a moment, listening. Though I survey the gloom, there’s nothing to be seen beyond the gnarled branches and roots.

I sigh.

Perhaps it’s just a brittle tree breaking into pieces…

That’s better than the alternative of something, or someone, lurking beyond in the shadows.

“I don’t remember anything of my former life,” Maeva finally continues.

The Minotaur leader shifts uneasily before her.

“Please, Darach,” she pleads. “If you know anything that will assist me, I need you to tell me.” Darach looks up in silent supplication.

“Who am I?” Maeva asks once more. The yearning in her voice softens the contemplative Minotaur.

He sighs, patting her hand once. “You’re?—”

His speech is cut off as three red and black arrows lodge in his jugular.

Maeva’s pendant illuminates immediately. “No!” she screams .

Darach gurgles in pain, the arrow heads protruding through the thick flesh as blood spurts from the wound. My face leeches of color as I examine the arrows. Their design easily gives away that it’s Galrosan; however, it’s their shades that reveal what they are: forbidden blood-poisoning arrows.

I recognize them from the stories in our Galrosan history. They were outlawed in Zulgalros centuries ago for their unethical conception. In order to create the blood-poisoning properties, one makes a bargain with the Basilisk in exchange for its venom.

“It’s Galrosan?” Laisren says, stunned.

I kneel before the fallen creature. “Yes,” I reply tersely.

Maeva attempts to break the shafts of the arrows.

However, they disappear like vapors, leaving gaping holes in Darach’s neck.

Darach coughs and gurgles as his body fights against the effects of the poison, but with every passing moment, the life within the giant beast slowly fades.

“No,” Maeva whispers.

“I’m sorry, Rosey,” I say. “There’s nothing we can do for him.”

Maeva shakes her head rapidly. “Perhaps you can’t,” she growls, “but I can.”

Then, Maeva shoves her hands into the gaping wounds, allowing her ability to stitch his flesh back together, as a tendril pulls the poison from his body.

The dark black liquid separates itself from the Minotaur as it rises.

Maeva casts the foul bane aside as she continues to mend him.

Darach winces, closing his eyes, as the starlight weaves in and out of his body.

“Not much longer,” Maeva promises. She channels the starlight rapidly, but Darach falls unconscious as the last stitch is made.

Maeva’s starlight coils back within her, and she sways slightly at the strain of using her ability. I wrap my arms around her as her head leans against me. “Did it work?” she asks weakly.

I watch Darach’s chest for several moments as it slowly rises and falls. “He’s alive, but he’ll need several days to heal completely from the poison,” I reply. “You did well, Rosey. ”

She releases a soft sigh of relief, when Danté neighs loudly, jerking our attention toward the wood line. My shadow horse stomps wildly, jerking his head up and down. “What is it, boy?” I ask. Danté whinnies in response.

“There’s someone over there,” Virgil growls. He points toward a silhouette of a shadowy figure with glowing eyes about three hundred yards away. Over in the bleak shadows is a tall figure with a dark cloak draped over its shoulders, a large bow tightly held in its grasp.

“Who are you?” I shout.

The intruder merely cocks its head to the side as if amused. My anger boils, knowing that this bloody creep is watching this unfold. I stand to my full height. “Who. Are. You?” I growl. Rather than answer, the intruder turns away, disappearing into the looming gloom.

“No!” I yell.

I move past Maeva toward the treeline.

Riordan’s eyes gleam as he comes to my side. “What are your orders, High General?” he asks.

“I need you and Virgil to stay with Maeva and the Minotaur,” I say. Then I motion for Laisren to follow me as I take off toward the woods. “It’s time to go hunting, Laisy,” I order.

“Yes, High General,” he growls, matching my speed.

“Don’t let them get away,” Maeva calls after us.

“I won’t,” I shout.

As we investigate the spot where the intruder lurked, we search for signs of footprints, or even tracks to follow, but there aren’t any. I look for signs of broken limbs or even paths made in the brush, but again, there’s nothing.

Where did he go?

I made a promise to Maeva, and I intend to keep it! The lurker won’t go unpunished for the treason they’ve committed here today.

“I hope you asked Siorai for forgiveness,” I call out into the mist-fallen woods, “because when I find you, I won’t be as merciful.”