The Broken Bow

by C D Beaudin

  Chapter Three

  “Kepp! Get me out of here!” Saine yells above him. The hole he’s in blazes with heat, and the sun beats down on him as he stands right under the opening in the ceiling. Kepp has gone to find something to pull him up with, but the morning has come and Kepp has been gone all night.

  He’s never been the most patient person.

  “Kepp! Hey! Can you hear me?” All this yelling will only be effective if Kepp is even in the area, and if he hasn’t succumbed to the perilous elements of the Desert of Asgoreth. With a huff, Saine walks back into the shade, sitting on the red ground, leaning against the equally red dirt wall.

  “Ugh, that idiot is probably dead. Lying on the ground, the heat melting his skin off his bones.” The thought makes him shutter. Okay, maybe not that. Saine closes his eyes, and licks his lips, but they’re still the driest they’ve ever been. Maybe Kepp found water? Yeah, that’s probably where he is. No sense in being worried about him.

  Saine’s own skin feels tight, it’s cracking as if he were to move it, and it would split open. He’d bleed out and no one would ever know he was here because Kepp probably won’t be able to find the hole again, then his skin would melt off from the intense heat. All that would be left were his bones, rotting and smelling disgusting, not even the vultures would dare feast off what would remain of his flesh.

  He takes a deep breath. No point bothering to worry. No bother at all. He takes another deep breath. Kepp is probably on his way right now.

  As he thinks this, footsteps thud above him. He looks up, and the sun coming through the hole becomes blocked.

  “Kepp?” Saine calls weakly.

  “Hey, brother. Now, let’s get you out of there.” Kepp drops down a twisted, gray vine.

  Saine’s hope returns and he gets to his feet to grab hold of the vine. He looks up again, seeing Kepp’s face for the first time in hours.

  “Is this going to work?” he asks.

  “When do my plans not work?” Silence follows after he says this. “Eh, it will be fine.” His effort doesn’t reassure Saine.

  Kepp starts pulling, breathing heavily as he heaves and struggles to lift him. Saine helps by climbing the vine a few feet, but his arms are weak. One last tug from Kepp, and a loud snap reverberates around the cave, the vine giving way and falling. But before he can fall with it, Saine grabs hold of the edge, his fingers digging into the dirt.

  He looks at Kepp. “‘It will be fine,’” he mocks as he hoists himself up with Kepp’s help. He turns so he lies on his back, and closes his eyes, feeling the sun bake him, but there is another feeling too. Wind. A cool breeze—considering he was in the heated ground for days, the hot desert wind feels chilling. It’s not much, but it reminds him that he isn’t trapped in the hole anymore. And that’s good enough for him.

  Kepp lies next to him, resting his head on his arms, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky. He breathes deeply, almost a sigh. “You know, this would almost be relaxing. If it weren’t for the deathly heat and all the snakes crawling around.”

  Saine yelps and jumps up.

  “Snakes! You never said anything about snakes.” He’s on his toes, hopping around, looking intensely at the ground.

  “I thought that was obvious, this being a desert and all,” Kepp says matter-of-fact. When Saine still isn’t calm, he groans, standing. “Look, I found some water. It’s dirty, but it’s wet.” He motions for Saine to follow as he passes, and Saine graciously does so, clinging to his friend, still frantically looking around for snakes, but he’s stopped shaking.

  Kepp rolls his eyes. “For a thief, an outlaw, and an infamous assassin, you sure are scared by the oddest things,” Kepp states.

  “Snakes are evil,” Saine mumbles under his breath, but he feels his cheeks grow even redder when he realizes Kepp heard.

  The afternoon sun shines brightly in the sky. Still no clouds, not a speck of shade resides in the Desert of Asgoreth. Dry, dead trees lie horizontally, while others stand crooked and spindly, not a single leaf on their branches. The reddish-brown ground cracks, the dirt crumbling under their feet like grains of sand.

  “It’s hard to believe that this entire land was once the home of great kings, elves, and people alike. It was once full of joy,” Saine says as they walk through the desert, his throat no longer dry as they had drunk from the small pool of muddy water, their quenched thirst only a little comfort in the terrible heat.

  “It’s hard to believe this was my home.” Kepp looks into the distance, the edge of the Dark Woods just visible from where they walk. “It’s hard to believe that so much magic and happiness could be ripped out from one land.” Kepp sighs, his eyes squinting as he looks out on the burned desert. “Not that it was my happiness.”

  Saine’s lips tighten, hating to see his friend hurting. He wraps his arm around Kepp’s shoulders, and lightly digs his knuckle into his skull, swiping it away harshly.

  “Ah! What was that?” Kepp questions as he rubs his head.

  Saine smirks, his arm still around Kepp’s neck.

  “I call it a ‘forget about the past, let’s focus on saving the world, love tap.’”

  Kepp looks at him like he’s some foreigner from the lands across the sea. “The heat has gotten to you, hasn’t it, if you think that was a love tap?”

  Saine chuckles. “Let’s just get go—” He stops talking as he stares.

  Kepp’s brow furrows, but after a moment he obviously sees what Saine sees. “Is that—?”

  “Yes.” In the distance, a tower rises to the sky, taller than any castle. Stone ruins lie around the cylindrical frame. The black metal shines in the sun, glinting into their eyes. Nethess was once the great capital of Asgoreth, but Revera purged these lands, and those of the neighboring region of Radian. The tower wasn’t there in the city’s glory days. It’s not even a city anymore, only stone ruins that lie around the black tower that stretches to the sky. A pinnacle of Revera’s darkness. It’s so far away, and yet it seems so close.

  “How far away do you think it is?” Kepp asks.

  Saine squints. “I have no idea. Why don’t you use your elf vision?” He puts on a sly grin.

  Kepp glares. “Now that’s just cruel.”

  Saine knows very well he’s probably the only elf in the world who doesn’t have an “elf ability.” Unlike his brother Eldowyn. He looks back at the tower.

  “You know, my people used to have this story that we would tell the children,” Kepp starts.

  “What?” Saine asks.

  “That whoever was swallowed up by the ground in Kahzacore, went to the Tower of Nightmares.”

  Saine gives him a doubtful look. “Kepp, this isn’t Kahzacore, and that is not

  Marduth.”

  Kepp’s eyes shift in a curious, worried way. “But what if she’s in there? What if the story was really a prophecy about the Dark Woods swallowing her up and then she finds herself in the Tower of Nethess?”

  “You elves and your prophecies.” Saine shakes his head but he looks up at the tower in the distance.

  What if…what if he is right, though? What if she really is in there?

  Saine sighs. “It’s a long way, Kepp. And the chance is so remote…” But he owes it to Awyn. He promised—well, his version of a promise—that he’d help her restore her kingdom—claim it. But now she’s dead…or, well…

  He looks at Kepp. “She is dead…right?”

  Kepp shrugs. “There’s only one way to find out. Maybe it’ll get us killed, maybe we won’t even reach the tower. Or…maybe we will, and we’ll be saving Awyn in the

  process.”

  Saine knows he’s right, and sighs. “All right, let’s go and see. But if we die, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.” Saine starts walking again, dust under his feet.

  Kepp chuckles and follows beside him.

  Saine feels like they have been walking for hours. And maybe they have, but it’s not their top priority to check on the position of the s
un. They’ve realized it’s unlikely they will find Awyn in Nethess, but it’s a chance, nonetheless.

  Their foreheads and backs are slick with sweat, even with their shirts off and slung over their shoulders. They had left the rest of their clothes in the hole, knowing it would be easier traveling without them and are now clad only in pants, soft leather boots, and a belt—their weapons had vanished, just their luck. Saine was torn to part with his red cloak, the gift Adriel had given him, but he knew it would slow them down. The less to carry, the less weight—the better.

  Above a bird soars, gliding on the gentle breeze, its squawk searing. The bird circles above the tower, just a black dot in the sky. Below it, the Tower of Nethess seems to blaze in a fire, giving off waves of heat. But there is no flame. Just dark magic.

  “Are you sure we’re making progress?” Kepp asks, panting heavily. “We seem to be making very little forward movement.” He wipes his brow, dirt and dust caking on his fair skin. “It’s so hot.” His words are breathless.

  “Aren’t you the one with the cold elf skin?” Saine, not an elf, is even warmer than his friend. His blond hair is wet with sweat and clings to his forehead. He rubs the back of his neck, his fingers sliding over his slick skin.

  “Being an elf and having cold skin doesn’t keep the heat out.” Kepp stops, staring at the tower up ahead. “Do you realize how stupid this idea is? We’re going into Revera’s home without weapons and exhausted from the heat.”

  “This was your idea,” Saine huffs.

  “You didn’t have to listen to me! You should know better than to take me seriously when I’m tired. Remember Lake of Kings?”

  Saine grimaces. “Yeah, you said it would be a great idea to take some of the

  crystals at the bottom of the lake. We were arrested before we got one toe in.”

  “See? Stupid ideas.”

  Saine smiles, patting his friend on the bare back, the slap sharp from the sweat. “Well, remember when I said I’d be holding you personally responsible? I meant it.”

  Kepp awkwardly smiles, and Saine glares at him in a way that makes sure a

  mixture of discomfort, fear, and “my friend is going to kill me when this goes very wrong” swells in Kepp’s mind.

  It’s several hours later, and they’re still walking. The distance between them and the tower doesn’t seem to be closing—at all.

  The night sky above casts darkness over the desert. The stars twinkle in a community of billions and the moon governs them, the silver glow illuminating the now silver ground. Night doesn’t just bring darkness to the two travelers, but a serene coolness. A breeze washes in, tousling their hair and drying their sweat. Their feet are tired, sore, and walking is painful, but the cold atmosphere washes it away.

  Almost.

  “No more sun. No more heat,” Kepp says breathlessly, almost a sigh. “This is wonderful.”

  “I must agree,” Saine says with a faint smile. His eyes half-closed, he seems to float on the wind as they journey to the tower, his feet invisible clouds in the dark sky above.

  “Saine, will we ever get to Nethess?” Kepp asks, sounding almost uncaring.

  “We have to, right? It can’t be that much farther.” Saine knows this was a failed attempt to reassure them both, but Kepp doesn’t say anything. The serenity the cold air brought has died, and now all Saine—and likely Kepp—can think about is Awyn trapped in Nethess.

  If she even is.

  “Adriel? Is everything all right?” Awyn asks from the floor, watching as her sister looks out the window.

  “Look out there.”

  Awyn stands up and walks over to Adriel, peeking her head beside her sister, looking out.

  The desert is vast, dark, with its usually pale red surface a hushed silver. Stars spatter across the sky, peering down upon the cracking dirt.

  It looks haunted. Which is painfully normal in Nethess. But two shadows move along the ground below. Far below, and still a few miles south.

  “What—who is that?” Awyn asks to herself, more than Adriel, but her sister answers anyway.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps Karak.”

  Awyn looks at her, eyes wide.

  “Karak? The Lieutenant of Crozacar? The Last Lieutenant of Ardon?” Adriel hadn’t told her of him, but her father had. And the books in the library. His title comes from him being the only non-elf still alive from the First Age, when war was waging everywhere in the world and Crozacar was alive.

  Awyn frowns, new worry washing over her in a wave of unbridled panic. “Revera is in league with him?” Idiotic question. Of course she is.

  “Yes. They visit each other’s towers often,” Adriel states, her eyes still on the two figures.

  “But isn’t he supposed to be trapped in Kahzacore like the Tarken and Sanarx?”

  “He is, but Revera’s magic is strong. She was able to weaken Crozacar’s hold over him, making him free to wander only where her magic, and Crozacar’s touch. He can travel almost anywhere in the Five Kingdoms, as the winter Revera has cast upon the lands is magic.”

  “Wait, how do you even know that? You’re stuck in the desert.”

  Adriel smiles. “I know things.”

  Awyn nods, understanding. Her brow furrows. “Then can’t you use your elf magic to know who’s coming? And aren’t there two shadows?”

  Adriel looks at her sister, placing her hands gently on Awyn’s cold cheeks.

  “I cannot. I am sorry. I can’t will the future to appear to me, neither can I the present.” She looks back to the shadows, her hands on the small sill. “If it is Karak, he’ll probably have a henchman with him, thus the other shadow.” Adriel strolls back to her place on the wall, sinking down to the cold, hard floor.

  But Awyn lingers. She looks upon the coming strangers far below.

  Are they truly evil? Or are they here to help us? She walks over to Adriel, sinking beside her. She can’t help but think of Saine and Kepp.

  Chapter Four

  The figures don’t seem to be making any progress. They just keep walking, day and night, but they stay in the same place it seems. Awyn can’t work out why. Perhaps Revera put some kind of distance spell on the tower, or the shadowy figures aren’t even people, and she’s going insane from being locked up in a cell again.

  Adriel does a good job of keeping her sane. She helps her sleep and protects her mind from the evils that haunt her. But in sleep, Awyn knows Adriel is poking around in her head. Perhaps she’s trying to find the elf gift she needs. If she doesn’t have it…Revera’s going to kill her.

  Awyn turns from the window where she has been standing for the past few minutes, staring at the burned horizon. Adriel sits on the floor in her usual spot against the wall, her eyes closed, her knees tucked under her.

  She lets herself slide down the wall next to her sister, and rests her head against the wall, looking up at the black ceiling. Beside her, Adriel opens her eyes.

  “Have they moved? At all?” Adriel asks, only resulting in a sigh from the exhausted Awyn.

  “You have the foresight. You tell me.”

  Adriel turns her head toward her. “It’s the future I can see, Awyn,” Adriel says in an I’m-older-than-you tone.

  Awyn flattens her lips.

  “Sorry. I’m just so tired and…well, trapped in here reminds me of the cell, but I shouldn’t complain. You’ve been locked up longer than me.”

  Something resembling a slight smile appears on Adriel’s pale lips.

  “Maybe so, but you had it worse than me. Revera hardly ever comes in here, and the worst I had to endure was hunger and that unnerving Calzack—there’s something about him I just can’t put my finger on.” Adriel shrugs. “Other than that, I’ve been left alone.” She sighs.

  “Besides, I was a lot older than you were. I knew how to deal with the lonesomeness. You…well, you were nine years old.” She runs her fingers through Awyn’s hair. “You had it worse.” Adriel wraps her arm around Awyn’s shoulders, and they lea
n their heads together.

  “Are we ever getting out of here?” Awyn asks, more to herself than her sister, the words almost a breath.

  “Maybe. But let’s not dwell on that right now.”

  They close their eyes, but before they drift off to an empty sleep, the door opens and Revera walks in, sending the girls upright. To Awyn’s surprise, Revera’s usual smirk isn’t there, and her eyes are dark and expression blank.

  “Have you found a use for yourself? I’m in need of an edge,” she asks, her tone neutral.

  But that doesn’t keep Awyn from wondering why she would tell them she has a vulnerability.

  “No. Are you going to kill me now?” Awyn asks, trying to mask her fear.

  Revera sighs, sounding almost disappointed. “Why would I kill you when you could still be useful? You’ll be bait. The sooner I can get that Nomarian heir on my doorstep, the sooner I can kill him.” She goes to walk out but she hesitates and walks toward the window.

  For a moment, all is silent. Not a single sound. Revera just stands there, still as a tree on a day with no wind.

  Awyn steals a curious, worried glance at Adriel, who wholeheartedly reciprocates. The sorceress’ head heightens, and she turns, her usual smirk back on her lips.

  “Looks like we have some unexpected company coming.” A mischievous, deadly twinkle grows in her icy eyes. “They’ll be here by nightfall.”

  The door shuts, and they’re left alone once again. They slide back down to the floor, and Awyn looks hopefully at her sister. “This could be our way out.”

  “Awyn, Revera won’t give us up willingly. What if whoever our rescuers are, are to be killed?” Adriel doesn’t dare to hope, Awyn can see that. She knows she shouldn’t either, but she can’t help it.

  “Adriel, I know it’s a long shot. But you don’t understand. I’ve seen Aradon in action when he’s in the Besged state. Revera will have a strong opponent.”