Chapter 14 Kostini
Kostini
“Drakers endure the harshest of disciplines. Hunt, blade, and their defiance against Dark Nature. Without it, they would surely fall.”
— A History of Defense, author unknown
My old sweater was ratty enough to tear a strip off to wrap around my wrist. Next, I gathered the upper half of my hair, securing it in a loose bun. I tore another strip from my sweater to wrap around the orb and attach it to my waist.
Kostini woke, shuffling to his tall stance. He whined abruptly, rushing me once again.
“I hope you had a good nap,” I mumbled, loading Riven’s bag first, then mine. Getting onto the damn horse by myself was going to be an obstacle. My thigh throbbed just standing, much less climbing.
Accepting that it would suck, I gave my best attempt to mount. Breathing like a mating boar, I pulled myself high enough to swing my bad leg around and plopped in the saddle. I let a string of curse words fly before I regained my composure.
I gathered the reins cautiously, unsure of exactly where to go.
Kostini did not share the same indecision. He took off.
Soaring through the woods, we were guided by nothing but the glow of the orb. We went completely off trail, weaving between trees and leaping over ditches. My long hair bounced behind me, the wild breeze kissing my face.
The breeze. Oh, how I had missed its true nature while within the walls. I didn’t care if the skin on my chest, legs, and fingers pricked at the temperature. I was riding horseback, on the run to Castivian, but free.
Free.
“We’re free,” I said to Kostini. He neighed and pushed faster, riding through the night. I laughed and said it over and over and over again. I’m free. I’m free. I’m free.
My orb began to flash gently, dimming. I tapped it, urging it to brighten. But it went dark, leaving only moonlight and the stars above. Kostini stopped and backed up a few steps.
The silence surrounding us suddenly felt very loud. I surveyed for threats. What would I even do if there were any? I had no weapons or training.
Nothing good ever came from using my Nature. I would use my fist before it came to trying that again. Vomiting in front of the Sapphire had taught me enough of a lesson.
I tried urging Kostini to push further, but he refused.
“Fine,” I said. The orb and the horse were evidently in charge. Perhaps I’d consider the orb a Witchlord and Kostini a Draker.
“I suppose an orb like you did kill an Imp. Perhaps you could be a Witchlord,” I chuckled, tapping the orb again. It glowed dimly in response. It had a sense of humor.
Thankful to have a light again, I dismounted.
Kostini whinnied and scratched at the ground.
I took the bags with me. Riven’s was heavy on my back, while mine annoyingly hung off my good shoulder. I made it about ten feet before hitting what felt like a wall.
I stepped back and tapped the orb, urging it to produce more light.
It flashed defiantly, as if telling me to stop.
I placed my hand out into the air, and there it was again—the feeling of a wall.
Either it was completely invisible, or I was losing my mind.
I laid my hand flat against it, walking slowly to the right, feeling for an end.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, yanking me through.