The Broken Bow

by C D Beaudin

Awyn takes Adriel’s hand tightly, reassuring her it will be all right, but in truth she’s reassuring herself. Their breathing is nervous, and beads of cold sweat cling to their foreheads. Awyn looks at her sister, her reassurance not working.

  “Is this when we die? Is this where we die?” Awyn asks, not sure how to feel. Death has been a major part of her hope for many years, but now she isn’t sure if she’s ready to die. Awyn’s just found out she has a whole other family she never knew existed. How can she die without seeing them again? And what about Aradon? Will she never get to see his face again either? She’ll never see Hagard again, or Eldowyn, Kepp, Saine, Raea—the list should go on and on—but it’s where it ends.

  Adriel’s eyes don’t hold anything back. She knows it is. In a way, Saine and Kepp coming to rescue them was the worst possible thing to happen, because now Revera can’t risk keeping them alive anymore. Adriel knows too much, and she just plain hates Awyn.

  “We’ll be fine.” Adriel’s words are strained and squeaky as she swallows a sob.

  Awyn tightens her grip on Adriel’s hand.

  “I’m glad I got to meet you.” Awyn manages a small smile, and Adriel reciprocates. Awyn can feel the lump in her throat grow as she tries to hold back tears, but they make their way down her cheeks despite her efforts. “I’m glad I got to spend the last of my days with someone who cares about me.” She sniffs, and tears fall from Adriel’s violet eyes.

  “Me too, sister. Me too.” They put their heads together and close their eyes, wanting to stay in this moment until the end of their days.

  The door bursts open with a bang, and Revera storms through it. She furiously walks over to one of the other doors, her bright red dress visible from where Awyn and Adriel sit. She rummages through the closet, and the two girls behind her can hear the clinking of chains.

  Revera, not saying a word, her expression as blank as earlier, walks over to them and starts to harshly wrap the chains around their waists. Awyn and Adriel don’t fight, hoping she’ll have mercy on them if they cooperate, but they wince as the sorceress pulls the chains tightly.

  They’re pulled across the room, and Revera opens the door to their cell. She locks the chains around one of the black stone beams holding up the ceiling, and leaves, locking the door again.

  Awyn and Adriel exhale in relief, but worry is written across their faces.

  “What is she doing now?” Awyn asks, hoping for an answer that won’t lead to their deaths.

  “Probably hiding us so Saine and Kepp don’t know we’re in here.” Adriel looks at the door, staring intently.

  Awyn wonders if she’s trying to listen for the men.

  How will they even get up here? Is there a front door? I’ve never seen the outside of the tower.

  And then she hears it. Loud, yelp-like whimpering. Shouting in a different voice. It’s muffled, but being an elf helps her to hear better. Then a door opens and closes, and a brief metal against marble sounds.

  Revera has a weapon, but why?

  Adriel glances back at Awyn. “Do you know what she carries?”

  Awyn shakes her head.

  Adriel looks back at the door. “If I could only see through the door window, maybe I would see Saine and send him a message we’re here.”

  “You can do that?” Awyn asks, and Adriel looks back at her.

  “If I can see the person, I can talk with them through my mind. But I need to be able to see them.” She looks at the lock, intently examining the silver surface.

  “Do you have anything pointed?” Adriel asks Awyn who thinks for a moment.

  “I do have this pin.” She takes out a small, red circle with a dragon inside. “Aradon said if I ever needed safe passage through Red Warrior territory to use this, in case we got separated or something. Revera must have overlooked it.”

  “Perfect.” Adriel snatches it away and bends the sharp end slightly. Awyn knows it’s for their own safety, and the safety of Kepp and Saine—if they are even here. But…part of her can’t bear to watch as the pin is twisted and broken. It’s like her last tie to Aradon is being destroyed.

  And for some reason, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to survive that.

  Adriel wiggles the pin around the keyhole, and they hear a click. She throws the lock to the side and unwraps their chains, then walks over to the door, looking out of the small slit. She tugs on the door, but it doesn’t budge.

  “No! It locks from the outside!” She pulls frantically.

  “Adriel! Stop, Revera will hear you.” But it’s too late. Revera turns around and walks over to the door, slamming the small metal door covering the window shut, leaving them with no way to know what is happening outside the cell.

  The eagle squawks, and the giant wings beat as it stops above the balcony. Kepp hops down, Saine following him. The blond sinks to his knees, kissing the cold floor, and the eagle peals as it flies away into the night.

  “Oh, I am never leaving you again!” If the floor was a person, he’d be hugging it.

  “Get up, Saine,” Kepp whispers harshly. “We have to find something to fight with before Revera sees we’re here.”

  Saine stands up and looks at Kepp. “She already knows.” He points into the room, and Kepp turns his gaze onto the clear sphere atop the pillar of black marble. In it, is a shadowy, blurry image of them standing on the balcony.

  “The Eye of Aiocille,” Kepp says breathlessly.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice comes from behind them. When they turn around, there’s Revera, standing in a long, red gown, the collar stretching to her pointed ears, her hair done nicely in an updo. She leans lazily against the railing, and if it wasn’t for the fact that they have no idea how she got behind them, they’d push her off—but that wouldn’t end well for any of them.

  “Well, if it isn’t the backstabbing, winter cursing, war waging sorceress. I think you’re bored, Revera. You’re like a whining child when her doll is ripped,” Saine spits.

  She cocks her head, glancing from Saine to Kepp, ignoring the Plainsman’s remarks.

  “Why are you so silent, my dear nephew? Do you have no hello for your aunt?”

  Kepp glares, his eyes thin and sharp.

  But Revera just smiles.

  “Last time I saw you, you were in this tower, where my lovely sister paid us a visit and put a spell on you so mine wouldn’t work anymore.”

  Kepp’s brow furrows. It wasn’t a spell. Light beats darkness every time. He tilts his head slightly. Maybe that’s naïve.

  “But, alas, my sister has left you once again to fend for yourself. How selfish of her.” Her voice is mocking, and Saine glances at him. Kepp is growing angrier with every word the sorceress spits. Then Revera turns her attention to Saine.

  “The Plainsman. My my, Kepp has made interesting friends.” She walks over to him, scanning over his entire frame. She gently taps under his chin. “But I do admit, you are easy to look at.” She turns. “Quite fun, actually.”

  She brings her face inches away from Kepp’s. “You will never find your friends. Awyn fell into the ground, and Aiocille’s daughter has fallen to the darkness.”

  Saine lunges at the sorceress, who steps out of the way, a smile on her face as Saine lands hard onto the floor.

  Kepp looks from his friend to the witch. He rushes to a nearby table and grabs the first thing his hand touches: a metal rod.

  He swings it at Revera, who ducks, and a force pulls Kepp to the floor, the rod clanking against the marble ground.

  “You cannot win this battle, Kepp. Evil will prevail and there is nothing you can do about it.”

  Kepp, realizing this may be bigger than his half-sisters, shuts them out of his mind. Saine is unconscious, and he is alone.

  I have to kill her. I have to forget about Awyn and Adriel and save Mortal. Kepp struggles to stand, but he gets to his feet.

  “Perhaps evil will win over this land, but I promise you I won’t stop fighting until I’m dead.”

/>   Revera smirks. “That can be easily arranged.” With a flick of her finger Kepp is thrown against a far corner, the blunt edge shooting pain throughout his entire body. He falls to the ground, his back spasming, his breathing ragged. He wheezes, and his vision blurs, but he can see Revera standing above him. Her blood red lips, her ice-blue eyes, and her fair skin, are just a circle of colors but she’s smiling.

  “Get up, Kepp.” The voice isn’t his, but someone he used to know. His mother. “Don’t give up know, son. Don’t give up.” The voice dissipates, and he gets to his knees, bracing himself on the wall as he stands. He blinks, trying to clear his vision.

  “Impressive. You are braver than I thought,” Revera admits. “But you could have been more than brave. You could have been a king. I would have made you into the King of the Elves when Mortal was finally mine. An Elven Majesty. But you chose death.”

  Kepp swallows, blood in his mouth. He takes a glance at Saine on the ground, his cheek to the marble floor, his limp body badly bruised.

  “I don’t deserve to be king.” He turns his gaze to the sorceress. “But you…you don’t even deserve to be called an elf!” He lunges, this time knocking her to the ground. He’s on top of her now, and his hands are around her throat. Her face becomes red, and her eyes bulge.

  “If you had protected Awyn this fiercely nine years ago, none of this would have happened.” She manages to speak, causing Kepp’s brows to furrow. She scrapes at him as he cuts off her airway, but he ignores her nails digging into his skin.

  “I didn’t know her then.” He squeezes harder.

  Revera gasps, clawing his neck. “Ask…your…mother…why.” Revera’s eyes roll into the back of her head.

  Kepp doesn’t let go—he’s determined to kill her.

  But why is she letting him?

  Suddenly a flash of light covers her, and Kepp sees his mother’s face where Revera’s used to be, and in shock he stumbles off her, and the light fades. Revera gasps for air, and Kepp can see his hands left red marks around her neck.

  “You snake!” Kepp spits at her. “What did you just do? Why did I see my mother?” he yells.

  The sorceress struggles to stand, but she manages, her hand to her heaving chest.

  “Illusions, Kepp. Everything.” She seems to regain her breath, and her smirk tugs at her lips, but not as fiercely as a few minutes ago. Now, she’s a hostile threat, not a charmingly evil one. “Now, I’m going to kill you, then I’m going to kill those two girls I have locked up.”

  Kepp’s brow rises.

  Revera’s eyes widen as she realizes she’s just spilled her secret.

  “So, they are here, then?” Kepp revels in the fact that Revera made a mistake.

  But the sorceress’ eyes blaze with rage.

  “You will not mock me!” She sharply lifts her left arm and brings it down hard. Rumbling fills the room, and the marble starts cracking, the metal starting to bend and tear apart. Kepp, trying to balance himself, looks at Revera.

  “I hope you can live through crumbling stone and blazing fire, dear nephew. You are about to face a crushing death.” She smiles. “Have a lovely afterlife. Oh, and say hello to my nieces for me. They’ll be dead in a minute.”

  And she disappears.

  Kepp starts running over to Saine, but the ground jolts under him. Through the cracks he can see lava, and the roof is starting to crumble and cave. Bits of marble fall, and he covers his head with his arms as he begins jumping from rock to rock as the bubbling lava rises and the ground cracks apart.

  “Saine!” He coughs, smoke filling the room. “Saine, come on!” His friend doesn’t wake up. Kepp, not wasting any time, hefts him over his shoulder, and tries to run along the edge of what was the Black Room. Or what’s still somewhat intact, but not for too much longer.

  He hears screams and frantically looks around the room. “Awyn! Adriel! Where are you?” he yells through the thundering of the crumbling room around him. “Someone answer me, right now!”

  And he hears it. A muffled scream of his name.

  Relief comes to his heart, and he looks under him. The ground cracks and caves out to lava as he jumps to a piece of flat marble and runs toward the door. Luckily for him, the lock has melted.

  He bursts through the door, and Awyn and Adriel are in the corner of the room. They stand, their faces desperate and terrified, clearly confused.

  Adriel gasps. “Is that Saine?”

  “No time to talk,” Kepp yells. “We have to get out of here!”

  A jolt rumbles through the room, and the roof starts to fall. Kepp looks at the window. He scrunches up his face in worry, but knows they have no choice. He turns to them. “You have to trust me.”

  Awyn and Adriel look at each other, and nod.

  “Then jump.”

  Awyn doesn’t even hesitate, she just jumps out the window.

  But Adriel hesitates. She looks up at Kepp. “She’s our sister,” she says, perhaps only now coming to the realization, or wanting to say it as many times as possible before she jumps to her death.

  Kepp’s eyes narrow with the pain and sorrow he feels. Sis-sister? But Adriel quickly kisses Saine on the forehead, and leaps after her sister, the window larger now that the whole wall has fallen. Kepp takes a deep breath, and also jumps.

  Mother protect us. Bless us to not turn into Dalorin…

  Meet us in the next life.

  And the world goes dark.

  Chapter Six

  The snow glistens in the sun, blinding the trio of travelers as they walk tiredly on the hard snow. It’s not as cold today, no blizzard either, making it easier for traveling in Winter’s Pass. The mountains shine in the daylight, and the cloudless sky above lets the sun touch their peaks.

  Aradon, Eldowyn, and Hagard walk through the valley, their packs much lighter than a few days ago now that their food and water is all gone. Their clothes have dried since the last blizzard, now that the sun is out, but the weather still wishes to freeze them.

  The trio is quiet. Eldowyn and Aradon are completely silent. Hagard’s heavy, tired breathing, and the thumping of his feet are the only sounds.

  Aradon looks forward, eyes glued to the path in front of them. He’s so tired of this valley. Tired of walking. He needs to get to Nethess and kill Revera. Not necessarily her, he just needs to kill, to see the blood of another splatter on the ground as he digs a knife into their chest.

  He takes a deep breath. No. Those are your old thoughts. Stop thinking them. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head of the feeling. Instead, he focuses on getting to Nethess. But his thoughts and focus are interrupted by Hagard’s thickly accented voice.

  “Oi! Laddie! Are we ever gonna get out of dis cursed valley? Me toes are freezin’ to me boots,” Hagard grumbles as they trudge through the snow. The pass is so long, and with all this snow, it’s taking even longer for them to get out.

  “Hagard, we are only another day away from the crossing to Radian. Be patient,” Aradon says from the front of the trio.

  “But you said dat yesterday,” Hagard complains.

  Aradon groans, tired of his whining.

  “Aradon, maybe we should try to go in between one of these mountains. It would be a shorter walk—”

  “Eldowyn! You should know that’s a stupid idea. We could get trapped under an avalanche and suffocate or get trapped by falling rock and freeze to death.”

  “We’re already freezing to death, Aradon,” the elf yells. “It’s a shorter route.”

  “But I can’t risk dying. I have a kingdom to think about. Forget Mera, what about Nomarah? I need to rebuild my kingdom, or my father will never understand why I left him all alone.” The words are furious, and Aradon throws his bow on the ground, yelling, “I am so sick of doing nothing!” He drops to his knees, despair enveloping him.

  He watches Eldowyn and Hagard look at each other, obviously worried for him.

  Suddenly a painful yell erupts from him, and the elf and dwar
f rush to his side. Aradon kneels, his body trembling, and his vision clouding. The last thing he sees before he slips away is Eldowyn and Hagard crumpling on the ground, and blood on the snow.

  Then he collapses, face first against the cold earth.

  Aradon’s eyes slowly open. A painful, sore groan leaves his throat as he sits up, his head pounding. He leans against a wall.

  A wall. His brow furrows, and he looks around. Reddish-brown walls. Smell of dirt. Dirt walls. There are wooden planks across the ceiling holding up straw, no doubt thatched. The room is otherwise empty, except for the two limp bodies on the dirt ground he recognizes as Eldowyn and Hagard.

  He winces as he tries to stand, but ultimately fails at the action. Instead, he gets on his knees and crawls over to Hagard, who is nearest to him. He rolls the heavy dwarf onto his back, seeing his sleeping, unconscious face, drool glinting in his thick beard. His black scale vest has been removed, leaving only his dark tunic, with the ties ripped open.

  At this, Aradon realizes he’s only wearing his tunic, pants, and black boots but his cloak is gone.

  Okay, don’t get distracted. What about those wounds? He turns Hagard over, lifting his shirt, and sees a stitched-up arrow wound. Okay, so whoever did this obviously never meant to kill us. Or they did, and it was a lousy job. Or whoever their leader is decided to keep us alive to torture us for information on…on what? Aradon takes a deep breath. This is no time to get paranoid.

  He crawls over to Eldowyn, who’s already on his back, his pure blond hair dirty and his fair face scratched. But that’s a good thing about being an elf: you don’t scar. Aradon looks toward the door—a piece of thick wood is attached loosely with what looks like vines onto another piece of wood, letting a lot of light into the windowless hut.

  A crude design, one that is hardly holding together.

  There is no hole in the roof, no windows, no evidence of a fire being lit. This hut is obviously not meant for living in, so Aradon can only assume it’s a prison.

  He looks from the elf to the dwarf, and decides to leave them sleeping, so he can take a look outside and maybe find their belongings in the meantime. He noticed they don’t have their weapons. It makes them vulnerable, which makes Aradon agitated, which makes him want to kill something.