Chapter 22 #2
Putting it over my red hair, I ask, “So why do I need all this to wield the bow?” The amulet rests between my breasts, and I cover it with the coat as Shaw backs away with the hint of a smile across his lips.
“Because you need to create the arrow.”
“You’re a blacksmith. Why can’t you make the arrows?” I counter, walking around him as he strides to one side of the clearing, away from the cliff’s edge.
“There was a time I could.” He glances around, looking for what would be the best target.
“I’ll stand here.” I already scouted the widest tree trunk on my walk here, but he doesn’t need to know I planned ahead.
The bow is unexplainably light and almost as tall as I am.
Turning it around in my hands, I line up my palm with the grip and pinch the silver string between my fingers.
The amulet pulses against my chest, spreading the strangest sense of warmth over my body.
Heat radiates along my arms, and I picture an arrow.
“What do I do now, Shaw?”
From a good distance behind me, I hear him say, “Lean into whatever feeling the amulet is giving you.”
“Is it supposed to be hot?”
The amulet is making my skin sweat and arms tremble.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I picture every fucking arrow I’ve ever shot flying through the sky, but nothing happens.
I’ve used a bow since I was old enough to pull the thin string my father crafted for me, and his face winks into my memory.
Disappointment, coupled with the heat emanating from the amulet, whips my focus into a storm of emotions.
“Open your eyes,” Shaw murmurs, and a chilly tickle of wind seeps down my clothes. “You have to see the target,” he adds. I don’t just open my eyes, I glare at him.
“I know, but I don’t feel the arrow.”
“Relax and try again. Would it help to send off a few normal arrows with a normal bow?” He nudges his foot into a bag, slumped into the snow with an array of weapons sticking out.
“I didn’t think you’d want a rematch of our first time.” I give him a snarky answer and lower Skadi’s bow. Glancing at it again, I have no words to describe the feeling of holding something so ancient.
“Nothing will happen to it if you put it down,” he reminds me, so I put the bow in the quiver and lean it against a tree. The forest is suddenly eerily quiet as an eagle finds a perch high in a tree, causing all the bunnies and song birds to stay hidden.
“It’s humbling,” I add, meeting Shaw back in the middle of the clearing.
“What is?”
“Holding what was once Skadi’s. When my parents died, I thought maybe the gods weren’t real. That our suffering was a condition of mankind, but hunting taught me otherwise. Being in the shrine confirmed it.”
“The forest holds many lessons. Are you ready for the one I am about to give you?” He passes me an arrow and a yew bow.
I laugh at his cheekiness. “What lesson is that?”
“What having a real opponent is like.” He draws back the huge bow. Matching his tall form in height, the yew belly bends to his will with ease as he sends an arrow flying into the farthest tree trunk.
I line up my own arrow and pull the string back, expecting the weight to be heavy, but it’s perfect. How would he know how to string a bow for me? The thought rattles my focus, and I let the arrow loose, watching it hit a few inches below Shaw’s.
“Stop thinking about everything.” He passes me a second arrow.
“How’d you know how to string my bow?” I ignore his request, lining my arrow up first so he keeps his pointed down.
“Lucky guess.”
I shoot, exhaling all the tension from my muscles and bones. The arrow hits a tree behind the one he shot, putting my arrow further away.
“You’re a terrible liar.” I walk behind him with a smile on my face.
“I’m not a liar. If I had told you I restrung a bow for you, it would have scared you off.
” He lifts his bow to take his turn. A breeze swirls around us, picking up sparkling snow and rustling the evergreen trees.
His arrow flies so fast my eyes miss the shot, but I hear wood split.
Excitement gets the better of me, and I hurry through the trees, away from the cliff, to see Shaw’s arrow lodged against mine, deep in the soft wood.
“Giving me an equal advantage is the least frightening part of you,” I counter. Try as I might, I can’t stop my gaze from finding his. “Should I try again with Skadi’s bow?”
Shaw touches the two arrows, nearly on top of one another, and yanks them free.
“You should not waste precious time, my lady.” A strange voice makes us both whirl around. The eagle from the tree is gone, and at the base of it stands a man dressed in a rich black tunic and matching pants. Where did he come from? The cliff is unclimbable.
Shaw’s hand is instantly at his belt where his knife is sheathed, but his face changes from aggression to shock so fast he never removes it.
“Vidarr,” he says, and I nock the already used arrow back into the string, keeping my bow ready and pointed at the ground in case this isn’t a friendly visitor.
“It’s been a long time, brother,” Vidarr says. I look from one man to the other, seeing the similarities.
“Rasha, go back to the cabin with what is yours.”
Knowing full well what he means, I walk past the two men and pick up the quiver with Skadi’s bow tucked inside. Aslaug trots through the trees, happily roaming around both men before waiting for me on the path back to the cabin.