Chapter 23
‘Cillian, keep Bethel shielded between the horses!’
The arrow had come from the trees ahead of us. I peered into the shadowy woodland, searching for the archer who had ambushed us.
‘Caris!’ called Cillian.
I turned to see riders bearing down on us. From the direction of their approach, there was a good chance they were the same armed men I had seen outside the inn.
Out of the trees came a man on a white horse. Two hooded archers rode alongside him, their arrows aimed at us.
The man on the white horse eyed us silently as the pounding hooves of the approaching horses reached us. I counted a dozen riders, all dressed in black.
The stranger on the white horse studied me with captivating, dark eyes. His complexion was a light copper, and long black hair flowed over his shoulders. He wore head-to-toe black, and his deeply grooved face was clean shaven. I caught a flash of gold from one of his ears.
Without turning my head, I whispered to Cillian. ‘When I say go, take Bethel on your horse and ride like the wind.’
‘I’m not leaving you,’ he whispered back desperately.
‘They’re not after me. They’re after Bethel,’ I explained calmly. ‘I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, but her only chance is if you get her to Torgrin.’
I planned to take out the archers first, using my Curse. That would trigger enough panic for Cillian to get a head start.
‘No matter what you see me do, keep riding,’ I commanded. His anxious eyes met mine with understanding.
The leader’s gaze narrowed on me. ‘Get the woman,’ his powerful voice demanded.
‘Go!’ I hissed at Cillian and Bethel.
Cillian mounted his horse and pulled Bethel up in front of him like she was nothing but a sack of flour. In an instant, he had kicked his horse’s sides and was riding for the tree line. A few men behind me moved to go after them, but the man with the gold earring called them back.
‘Let them go. We have what we want.’
One archer lowered their bow and raised a small hand.
I felt a sudden jerk on my swords as if an unseen force was pulling them away from me.
The pull became stronger, but I held on tight.
The archer raised another hand, and it intensified, my forearms cramping in protest. My feet slipped across the damp morning grass as I tried harder to resist what must have been the archer’s Curse.
The archer’s face reddened from the strain, and blood began trickling from their nose.
I couldn’t hold on any longer, and I growled furiously as they flew from my hands and dropped at the feet of the Cursed archer’s horse.
From nowhere, a heavy boot kicked me in the head, and I dropped to my knees. While I was dazed, a sack was shoved over my head and my wrists were tied.
Their leader shouted at his men. ‘Careful when you touch her!’ His strange accent caught my attention. Not like Cillian’s or Lord Warwick’s, but harsher, throatier.
I thrashed blindly as someone tried to lift me. I got another blow to the head for my efforts, and more hands grabbed me, seating me on a horse. My horse.
The knock on my head left me disorientated, and not being able to see filled me with panic. I clutched onto the pommel with my tied hands as Nightmare was led into a canter.
The pounding hooves of several riders surrounded me. I thought about throwing myself off my horse, but we were going at a speed that would cause me to break a few bones, which would entirely hinder my escape – not to mention I risked being trampled to death by the other riders.
Concentrating on the leader riding the white horse, I pictured his dark eyes, golden skin, and that gold hoop in his earlobe. I imagined him being engulfed by shadows, turning black, and becoming a pile of ash on his horse’s back.
The Darkness didn’t respond. I swore. Without sight or touch, my Curse was dormant. My only chance now was if Cillian had made it to Torgrin with Bethel and raised the alarm.
There was no stopping or resting for hours.
Eventually my captors lifted me from Nightmare and pushed and shoved me until I was told to sit.
With little choice, I dropped to the ground.
It surprised me when they didn’t tie me to a tree or something, although a guard might have been standing over me for all I knew.
The familiar sounds of soldiers setting up camp surrounded me. I listened to the early evening crickets and shivered as the temperature dropped. No-one offered me food or water, so I sat staring into the blackness of my blindfold.
Why was I taken, not Bethel? Who were these strangely dressed men who spoke with the same peculiar accent as their leader?
I was fortunate that they hadn’t searched me for more weapons in their haste because I still had my father’s dagger in my boot.
I could reach it with my tied hands and work on cutting the rope if nobody was watching me.
Waiting until most of my kidnappers were asleep would give me a better chance of succeeding.
Time drifted away from me as I sat on the bumpy ground, unable to do anything but listen and think. The Cursed archer came to mind. They were powerful enough to pull away my swords, but it took its toll, remembering how their nose bled as I resisted.
The night went by, and the chatter and movements around the camp were dwindling until there was a sudden commotion among my kidnappers.
Someone had entered their camp uninvited.
‘I’m unarmed.’
Torgrin. His deep voice floated towards me. The entire camp became silent, I imagined as they took in Torgrin’s tall, dark figure. Was he really unarmed? Was he alone? He better not have come alone.
A deep belly laugh echoed around the camp. ‘Well, what do we have here?’ asked the leader, still laughing. ‘The Titan’s son returned, perhaps?’
Wait. What did he just say?
‘Hello, Father,’ replied Torgrin.
‘Son, what are you doing here?’ The question didn’t sound like it came from a father; it sounded like it was coming from a commanding officer. It was time to take the risk and reach for the dagger. If Torgrin was unarmed, I needed to get this hood off now.
My pulse hammered as I reached my tied hands into my boot.
I pulled the dagger out slowly, bracing for someone to stop me.
When no-one sounded the alarm, I pinned the dagger handle tight between my raised knees and felt for the blade with careful fingers.
Trying not to cut my wrists, I ran the rope back and forth over the blade in short, steady movements.
‘You have something of mine.’ Torgrin’s voice sounded as dangerous as his father’s.
‘She’s your woman?’
‘Yes.’
What the stars, Torgrin? I was no man’s woman.
‘Well, I’m afraid she isn’t anymore. The king wants her.’
How does King Hared even know who I am?
‘Well, he can’t have her,’ Torgrin snarled.
I felt more of the rope beginning to give under the dagger. I was almost free.
‘Is she worth losing your life for?’ Torgrin’s father asked. ‘Just because you are my son, doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you,’ he threatened.
Torgrin let out a bitter laugh that made me pause. ‘Oh, I know. Having a son never stopped you from following your king’s commands,’ Torgrin said coldly.
My hands came free of the rope. Staying where I was, I slowed my breathing and waited for the right moment.
‘Get out of here, and don’t turn back,’ Torgrin’s father warned. There was a resounding silence from Torgrin. ‘So be it.’
I heard a sword unsheathe and franticly pulled off my hood as I jumped to my feet.
Nobody was paying any attention to me. They were all focused on the two men facing off in the middle of the camp.
The leader of my kidnappers had his sword pointed at Torgrin’s chest, and I felt something primal rise inside me at the sight.
A mighty gust of wind caused my hair to whip across my face, leading me to let go of the knife and tap into the growing power of the Darkness within me.
I could see the confusion on the faces around the camp as they looked about at the leaves spinning on the ground and the trees twisting with the howling wind.
I walked deliberately towards the two men who were yet to notice me as they struggled to stay balanced in the gale.
Torgrin’s father looked past his son, his gaze meeting mine. The older man’s eyes – so like his son’s – narrowed as he gripped his sword tighter. Torgrin’s back was to me, but I still heard his warning over the wailing wind.
‘I think you should leave before she kills every one of you.’ Torgrin sounded calm, and I appreciated his confidence that I could take on a camp full of soldiers, even if I wasn’t sure I could. But no-one moved to stop me.
My Curse was very distraught that a sword was pointed at Torgrin. As soon as I acknowledged that, the dark shadows seeped out of my fingertips, and the moment they touched the sword against Torgrin’s leather-clad chest, it began to turn black.
Torgrin’s father frantically shook the hand that held the decaying sword. His fingertips blackened.
No, no, no.
I didn’t want to hurt Torgrin’s father. I dragged the shadows away, defying the displeasure I felt from the Darkness, and his finger returned to normal.
Torgrin raised his arm and lowered it, cutting the air as he yelled, ‘Now!’
A volley of arrows came from the surrounding trees, causing chaos to erupt in the camp. Torgrin spun around, searching for me.
‘Tor?’ The arrows flew past me, not at me, but I was still wary of being hit.
Torgrin seemed to have no fear as he sprinted to where I waited but had to halt when a man appeared, sword drawn. Torgrin barely ducked in time to avoid the blade taking off his head.
The Darkness returned, and there was no restraining it this time.
I was no longer concerned with stray arrows; my only concern was protecting Torgrin.
I closed the distance between myself and Torgrin’s attacker.
My shadows wrapped around the man’s legs, and he screamed in terror as he tried to kick the tightening shadows away.
I understood why Torgrin took Boric’s head off inside the arena. Seeing this man almost kill Torgrin filled me with an all-consuming rage.
The man wiggled like a worm on a hook as I touched him.
His arm blackened until the limb was nothing but ash, and the clearing rang with his high-pitched wails.
His remaining hand lifted desperately, trying to fend off my deadly touch.
But I didn’t need to touch him again. My shadows could do the rest now.
He screamed at Torgrin to make me stop. Torgrin merely looked down at him with a terrifying coldness. My shadows did not forgive or forget.
I looked down at him as he writhed in pain, his arm a pile of ash next to him. The Darkness wanted him to suffer longer – it wanted to destroy him limb by limb for what he nearly did to Torgrin, but I could not stomach watching his suffering any longer.
‘The underworld can have you now.’ I clapped my hands. In the blink of an eye, he was nothing but a sooty mark on the bone-dry grass.
Without any hesitation, or fear from what I had done, Torgrin grabbed my hand and tugged.
I let him guide me through the volley of arrows still raining down on the camp, very aware of how his hand enveloped mine.
We had almost reached the safety of the trees when a young woman with short black hair appeared in front of us.
‘Stop!’ she yelled. She had small blades floating in the air, pointing directly at us. This must be the Cursed hooded archer who had taken my swords. I watched the floating blades, more out of curiosity than fear.
Torgrin stepped in front of me, making himself the sole target of the floating blades. Was he kidding me? Did he not just see what I was capable of?
‘Braya, get out of our way,’ Torgrin growled. He knows her. I regarded her with new eyes, my curiosity becoming something I would not admit was jealousy.
The young woman shook her dark head. ‘We need her, Torgrin,’ she said through clenched teeth.
I lifted my hand behind Torgrin’s back, and Braya flew backwards.
Shadows struck her firmly in the chest. The small blades dropped harmlessly at Torgrin’s feet.
The young woman recovered quickly and charged at us.
Raising my hands, I struck her again with shadows, and she flew backwards, hitting a nearby tree with a thud that made me wince.
‘Do you think she’s hurt?’ I made to move towards the woman now slumped against the tree before Torgrin stopped me.
‘She’s just stunned. Leave her.’ He was right. She was already looking around groggily.
A rider came and stopped beside the woman. It was Torgrin’s father. There was an arrow in his shoulder and blood on his face. His gold earring gleamed as he dismounted and tossed Braya onto the saddle. The arrow sticking out of his shoulder didn’t seem to slow him at all.
His eyes fixed on Torgrin. ‘Son, your woman will be safer in Ephemeros if King Goa wants her.’
King Goa? The hostility between the men kept me quiet. This was not the time to ask questions.
‘King Hared or his heretics will kill her if they know what she is.’ He seemed to care more about my safety than his own son. ‘I have seen the executions in Capita with my own eyes,’ he added.
I felt Torgrin’s body stiffen beside me. ‘She’s safe with me,’ Torgrin growled, reaching for my hand again.
Torgrin’s father’s frown deepened at our joined hands. As if accepting the situation, he growled, ‘If things get bad in Capita, send a message to the inn, and I’ll come.’
He mounted his horse behind a still-stunned Braya, and rode off into the darkness.
The fighting was over thanks to Torgrin’s quick thinking and his archers’ deadly aim. My injured kidnappers followed their leader out of the camp, leaving their dead behind.