Mercy Rising: The Prophecy

by DC Little

  “Will it work?” she asked.

  “Yes.” It would work perfectly.

  “Then why do you still look so glum?” She bit her cheeks. He could see them suck in as she did and knew that she was nervous as she always was when asking questions. “You thinking about her again?”

  “Why do you always bring up Lily?” he asked.

  “Thinking of her causes you pain. Thought you might want to tell me about her.”

  He wanted to tell her, but if he did as he planned, it could be intel that could destroy him...or his sister.

  “Not yet,” he said, pulling away. “You sure you don’t mind me using this?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get more on my next hunt.” Mercy shrugged and sat back to fiddle with a paracord piece.

  He didn’t like to hurt her. He wanted to tell her everything about him. He wanted her to know every aspect of his life, of who he was, and he wanted to know her like that, too. The craving felt like an odd hollow in his gut. It couldn’t happen...their lives shouldn’t be intertwined.

  “Thank you. I think you’ll enjoy seeing this work once I fix it.”

  “Okay,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I’m going to go out for a bit. Tucker should be back from my parents’ shortly.”

  “You could have eaten with them, too, you know.”

  “And leave you to cook alone? I think not,” she said, a slight tease in her voice.

  His chest constricted as she left, but he couldn’t think of that, so he focused on repairing, or should he say, rebuilding his sling. He measured out a loop of sinew that spanned his widespread arms. Once he measured it out, he realized a quandary. He could train under supervision, but was still forbidden to carry any weapons. Without a knife, how would he cut this?

  Sitting back on his haunches, he fought against the emotions whirling within him. The moment he got angry for not being allowed a simple thing like a knife, guilt tore his guts. They should keep weapons away from him. He planned on killing their leader...her dad. The mission had seemed so simple when he set out from the coalition over a month ago, but now...it was complicated.

  He needed to stay busy. The thought of going through Mercy’s things left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, yet as he looked over at her neatly arranged belongings, firelight reflected off of something shiny. He looked at the door of the dwelling, cocked his head to listen for the sound of footsteps, and then made his way over to the shiny object.

  Sitting out, as if it had been waiting for him, was a throwing blade. Where they had found the metal, he didn’t know, but it was there, taunting him. He hated the indecisiveness warring in his mind, so he took two confident steps, snatched the knife up as if he had every right to wield it, and went back to work.

  After all, he needed to work on the sling. It wasn’t like he was going to use it to...his head snapped up. This could be his opportunity. His leg wasn’t completely healed, but he could limp around for a while before the pain became too much. He made good speed with his crutch now.

  Could he really complete his objective and leave?

  He focused on cutting the sinew, tying it to the leather pouch stained with his blood...blood that reminded him he would have died if it hadn’t been for Mercy. He shook his head. This way of thinking got him nowhere. He would have to continue acting, see where it led him.

  Stretching the sling out, he measured the length before tying a loop on one end of the sinew and a knot on the other. He itched with the need to try out the new sling. Of course, the sling was a weapon...they could take it from him. Pushing up to a stand, he decided it was worth the risk.

  It’s not like he had ever killed anyone with it...though that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility. Killing had never been something he enjoyed. Bile rose to his throat as memories tried to push through, the face that he really hated flashed in his mind. The Old Man had been relentless in his training…

  Orion shoved through the hide door and sped away from the dwellings as if he could leave the horrible memories there behind him. The air hit his lungs with a sharpness as he realized the storm clouds filled the twilight sky to the north. Maybe Tucker was right, because he swore he could taste snow in the air.

  To speed his escape from the dwellings, he leaned heavily on the crutch, hopping his way to the stones at the end of the ravine. Besides washing, no one really came this way...except Mercy. He had noticed this end of Zion was her favorite. The rocks slowly slid into darkness as the last of the sun’s light slid behind the horizon hidden from them down in the ravine.

  Before everything turned to shadow, he saw her silhouette against the skyline, sitting on one of the tallest boulders in the jumbled pile. Without thought, he made her his destination. In moments, he awkwardly launched himself over the rocks, with less than his normal gracefulness, to sit beside her.

  “Hey, Hunter,” she said as if she expected him.

  He settled himself before he turned to look at her. She had been calling him Hunter for the last week. It amused him, but he had said nothing...thinking it was just as good as anything else, but tonight following her gaze to the stars, it somehow felt like more than a teasing nickname.

  “Why do you call me that?” He pulled his eyes away from the stars, trying to read her face in the increasing darkness.

  She didn’t move. Even her chest seemed to still, and he waited to see if she would breathe. Finally, a sigh left her, and she shrugged slightly, barely discernible in the night.

  “It seems to fit you more than the false name you have us call you.” Her words didn’t hold the anger he thought they would, only a small tightness as if it were something she had resigned herself to. “Do you know stars?” She glanced at him briefly before turning her gaze back south.

  Orion caught his breath as he saw the constellation she gazed at, feeling exposed and raw. “Mercy, I…” He clamped his mouth shut against the desire to spew everything, his name, his father, her dad...everything. The weight of the truth seemed too much to bear in her presence, here in the dark under his constellation.

  Mercy had turned toward him, watching him with the stars reflecting in her eyes. He sat on his hands to keep from reaching up and tucking a stray strand of her gorgeous hair behind her ear. When he didn’t continue, she turned back toward the stars, pointing at Orion which was slowly being covered by clouds.

  “That’s my favorite one. Orion, the Hunter.” She hugged her knees to her chest as if to bring something, someone closer. “There’s a story about that...about Orion, that...that one day I want to share with you.”

  “Wh...what is it about?” He hugged his own knees, keeping his body tight, so he didn’t flee or pull her into his arms. He didn’t know which desire would win.

  “A horrible event, one that has left its scars...on me, my family, and…” She looked back up to the stars.

  Orion’s head spun as if it fought to bring something to the surface, but his thoughts were too lost in the heaviness of the truth that lay between them. “Mercy, I need you to know...I want to tell you everything. I will...soon. I just have to figure some things out first.”

  She turned back to him, and he saw the whites of her teeth as she smiled. “I know you will, Hunter.” She breathed the name out, sending shivers of delight down his skin.

  His body twitched and itched. He pushed himself up. “So...I...uh...I fixed my sling.”

  “Your sling?” She tried the word out hesitantly. “Like for an injured arm?”

  “No, it’s a…” He didn’t want to say weapon in fear it would remind her he shouldn’t have it. “A tool. One of the few things I remember my dad telling me is a story about a boy and a giant.”

  She cocked her head. “You mean David and Goliath?”

  “Yes! I couldn’t remember their names, but that sounds right. So, you know the story.”

  “Yes, the boy was a shepherd, used to scaring off mountain lions and bears from the sheep. Goliath, a nine foot tall giant, fought against their army. He brought food
to his brothers on the battlefield one day and saw Goliath challenging the soldiers.” She sat forward, excitement building in her voice, and she captivated him with her every word. “No one would face him, so David stood up. He knew he could defeat Goliath with the Creator’s help. So, he went out there without armor or shield or sword, only his sling, and he killed him with one stone.” She touched her forehead right where the one line creases when she is concerned, then looked at him, searching him. “You know how to use a sling like that?”

  “Well, I don’t know about as well as David. Your story made quite the impression on me.” He let the joy roll through him, leaving the earlier tension behind.

  “Will you show me?” she asked.

  “Now?”

  She nodded her head, her eyes widening as he brought out the sling from the waist of his pants. He let her finger it, and she touched the dark spot where his blood stained the pouch.

  “This saved your life,” she said.

  “Not in the way I thought it would, but it did the job...until an angel came along that is.” He smiled, then realized what he said and stood up. “So, you see, you put a stone in this pouch, and the force of it way out on the strings, gives it strength. When you whip it,” he made the motion with his arm, “it propels the rock toward your target.”

  “Show me.” She stood beside him.

  He eyed her for a moment, then searched the boulder they stood on for a pebble. When he found one about the size of his thumb, he slipped it into the pouch. “Stand back.”

  Once she was out of the way, he slipped the loop over the middle finger on his right hand, held the knot with his thumb and forefinger, and pulled the pouch out with his left hand. Then he swung his right arm. The pouch slipped out of his left hand as his right arm swung in a figure eight in front of him. The sinew made a higher-pitched sound than the paracord had, but it worked.

  When he was ready, he whipped his hand, letting the knot slip out of his fingers, releasing the stone across the canyon before them. They stood silent for several seconds until they heard the ping and subsequent scattering of his rock hitting the opposite side.

  “Whoa. Teach me.” Mercy’s voice held more awe than he expected, but she was a warrior and knew the power of a weapon.

  He laughed as pride filled him with her looking at him with admiration in her eyes. He would have to figure more ways to get her to look at him like that, for right now he felt like he could conquer the world. “The learning process can be dangerous.”

  She fisted her hip, looking at him through the darkness between them. “And you think I’m afraid of danger?”

  “No. No, I don’t think anything scares you.” He swallowed, but held her gaze.

  Teaching Mercy for once brought him even closer to her. Her fresh spring scent, the feel of her hands beneath his as he taught her how to hold the sling, and the ever-present force like static electricity that existed between them overpowered him. It made him feel dizzy, weak-kneed, and powerful all at the same time.

  When she let the stone loose, they waited, their breaths held, stopping the white mist from escaping their mouths. Instead of a clack from in the canyon, they heard a thump from behind them.

  “Did I just hit my parents’ dwelling?” Mercy squeaked as she spun to look in that direction.

  A growl emanated from the object of their attention, and she tugged Orion down beside her to hide behind the jumbled boulders. Her dad peered out, even stood and looked around each direction, including the wall of the ravine behind his dwelling. With one last sweep of the ravine, he started back in the hide door, saying “Probably just a stone loosened by a raccoon scrambling up the wall.”

  Mercy threw herself against the rock in front of them, doubling over. At first, he worried the stress had gotten to her, but then she finally let the laugh bubble forth unbidden. She pulled Orion down next to her and said through her laughs, “That...that was dangerous.”

  He watched her in pure delight, wanting more—more laughter, more of this closeness, and more of her...all of her.

  While sleeping that night only feet away from Mercy, he tossed and turned. He had heard of men falling for women, women they would do anything to please, women they would die for. He pushed up to his elbow and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

  He had to end his quandary before he went insane. He had to do it now.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  >>>—MERCY—<<<

  Mercy had fallen asleep with her heart feeling warm and complete. Hunter, as she deemed her blue-eyed guy, had come close to opening up to her, she felt it. Though patience was not her friend, she could be patient for him. She knew it would be worth it in the end.

  A blush filled her cheeks at the thought, and she curled further into her furs. The sky was still dark and cold. She wondered how much snow had fallen, for the flakes had sent her and Hunter into the warmth of the dwelling. Tucker had already fallen asleep, or at least he pretended.

  The blue of Hunter’s eyes had overwhelmed her, caught her in a web of not being able to look away but too powerful to keep from falling in. It scared her, like jumping from the cliff into the river far below scared, invigorating with adrenaline rushing excitement, all mixed with fear. It was the most powerful force in nature.

  She rolled under her furs, needing to see for herself that he really existed, that the blue eyes she had dreamed about for years really belonged to a man...a real man with flesh and blood. Peering from the furs, she smiled, silently laughing at herself for sneaking a peek.

  When she found only a pile of furs with no body softly breathing underneath them, she shot out of bed, her eyes scanning the dwelling.

  “What’s wrong?” Tucker murmured in a sleepy voice.

  “Hunter’s gone,” she said, checking his furs to see if he had taken his belongings. They were there, and her heart eased to more of a growl than a roar.

  “He’s probably relieving himself. Relax.” Tucker rolled over, but something niggled at the base of Mercy’s skull.

  She pulled on her boot moccasins and shrugged into her cloak. She even strapped on her knife belt...but her knife, she patted her leg…her knife was gone.

  Pushing through the door, she stood in the few inches of snow, looking for tracks. She found the uneven gait prints of Hunter, following them with her eyes until they ended at her father’s dwelling. Her heart raced and fear pricked her neck as she took off at a sprint. She slowed as she came around the last structure before her parents’ dwelling, blowing out a breath of relief seeing Hunter’s form standing there.

  She started toward him, ready to tease him about sleep walking when she saw the blade in his hand. Fear and confusion roiled inside her, but instincts took over. She ran at him, swift and silent, knocking him over before he had even known she was there.

  His breath left him in a grunt as they wrestled in the snow.

  “Mercy?” he asked, after having got the better of her, sitting atop her. “What are you doing?”

  She fought then, kicking him between the legs, going for the knife he held out in shock. She rolled him over, landed on his forearm, and took the knife from his spread fingertips. In one swoop, her other knee landed on his other arm, and she held the knife to his throat.

  Gasping, she whispered, “That’s what I’m wondering about you? Standing in front of my parents’ dwelling with a knife!”

  “No...I...no…” he choked out.

  Even in the darkness, she saw his eyes cloud over in pain...pain from long ago. Struggling, he fought for control of his emotions, his body totally relinquished to her.

  Shuffling and grunting came from her parents’ dwelling, and a moment later her dad stood over them, bow lowering and a bewildered expression on his sleep-lined face.

  “What in the world are you two doing?” he growled.

  “I found Hunter here—” Mercy started, her chest constricting in betrayal.

  Her mother’s gasp stopped her. She looked frail from her sickness, and s
he clung to the wall of the dwelling, but it was the tortured look in her eyes as she stared at Hunter that stopped further thought.

  “Orion?” her mother whispered hoarsely, falling to her knees in the snow before him, ignoring Mercy who still sat atop him.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” Mercy looked from her mom to Hunter to her mom and then to her dad. “Dad, is she losing it? Get her inside.”

  “Krista…” Her father laid down his bow and touched her mom’s shoulder. “Krista. Come inside. You’re dreaming again.”

  Her mom shook her head. Her hands shot out and held Hunter’s face. “It’s you, isn’t it, Orion? You returned, just like he said you would.” She touched him over his head, his neck, his chest, everywhere she could before she pushed Mercy off him.

  Mercy stepped back, shock overriding her senses.

  Hunter pushed up to a sitting position, his eyes wider than Mercy had ever seen them. He flinched, but not at her mother’s touch, more as if memories pierced his senses.

  His mom took his face in her hands once more. “Orion,” she sobbed, “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She took Hunter in her arms, clutching him against her, her body racking in sobs.

  “Dad?” Mercy walked tentatively toward him. “What’s going on?”

  Her dad knelt down next to her mom. “Krista.” He pulled her gently off Hunter. “Krista, leave Benjamin be...come on.”

  Mercy watched the struggle, but when Hunter looked up and their eyes met, the shock of the truth hit her like a blow to her chest. His eyes told her everything. “It is you…”

  Her dad swiveled his head toward her. He now held her mother, but his eyes were hard. They implored hers, then back to the young man frozen in front of him.

  “Is it?” he demanded. “Are you Orion? Son of Ben Butler? The boy that…that I couldn’t save?”

  Her dad addressing him seemed to throw Hunter, or Orion, out of his shock. “Save me?” he sneered. “You were going to save the son of the man you shot in the back?”

  Orion, for it really was him, she could no longer deny it, pushed to a stand. “You ruined my life...you left me without a father to protect me, my mother...and my sister!”