The Broken Bow

by C D Beaudin

“You just try to beguile me and then you back off with, ‘all right’?”

  Karak’s eyes dart. “Uh...”

  Awyn’s livid. “You men are so stupid! You just love the chase, don’t you?” she accuses, her face feels stony.

  “Well, I mean, it’s fun, but hardly why we—”

  “Did I ask a question?” her voice is harsh.

  Her last words appear to confuse Karak.

  “Uh, yes, you-you did.”

  She shakes her head, backing away. Crossing her arms, she huffs. “Just leave before I hurt you.”

  Karak gives her a short nod walking past her, a smirk on his face.

  Awyn can’t help but blush. You’re such an idiot, Awyn.

  She should slap herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next morning, they ride through the forest nearing the edge of Cannan. The sky is gray through the twining branches above, and without the sun they cast no shadow on the white forest floor. Awyn is silent as she rides, Aradon noticing her absentmindedness.

  “So, where were you last night?” he asks her.

  When she’d returned, Kepp had said Ethiah had instructed Aradon to sleep, and Kepp had been the one who had stayed up to wait for her.

  “What?” she asks, in her own world.

  “Where were you last night?” Aradon repeats.

  “Oh. The usual, gallivanting through the woods with the Last Lieutenant.” She gives him a small, swift, cheeky smile.

  He lifts an eyebrow.

  She rolls her eyes, scoffing. Not at him, but at herself and trots ahead.

  Awyn can’t believe Karak. He’s basically obsessively following her. He has become more of a nuisance, now. At least she dealt with him. No more kissing. Kissing her enemy to begin with was a mistake, and that’s putting it lightly.

  But she thinks she has worked out why. So many deaths and problems in her life, kissing her enemy seems to give her…hope.

  Karak’s part is a different story. If he was just trying to shake her, Awyn wouldn’t be surprised. If he was actually attracted to her, again, Awyn wouldn’t be surprised. She knows he and Revera used to be together in a…casual, let’s-destroy-the-world-together, way.

  Now, if he had genuine feelings toward her, that would surprise her. He’s cruel and heartless. She hasn’t worked out if he even still has a soul, so him loving her seems pretty unlikely.

  Afternoon comes, and they reach the end of the forest. Riding out onto the fields makes Awyn feel like she can breathe again. Ever since last night she’s been anxious. Generally, she feels trapped in the woods. She’s been locked up most of her life, then when she finally got out she almost died, almost lost her soul—in the woods.

  Entering Hadore, the Plains of Iandore spread as far as the eye can see. The gray sky above mattes the snow laden fields, no shimmer or sparkle to be seen. A cold breeze blows, not as harsh as yesterday’s wind, but the chill still hangs in the air.

  The horses gallop, kicking up snow. The troupe’s hoods and cloaks blow back as they ride, the cold stinging their faces. They plan on returning to Thasoe, hopefully within the next day or two.

  Awyn never liked this plan, but she couldn’t not agree. Reluctantly she had said yes to returning, but she’s hoping Neodyn will ban them from the city before she sees him again. She has forgiven him, yes, but the kiss they shared, even though it was only a dream…Awyn just can’t be around him.

  “Awyn, are you all right?” Kepp asks, trotting up closer.

  “Uh, I’m fine. Just not looking forward to our upcoming visit,” she says, feeling tired and her face is no doubt drained of expression.

  “I wasn’t with you in Thasoe, may I ask what happened?”

  Awyn looks over at him.

  “There’s just…some bad blood between me and…King Neodyn.”

  Kepp’s brow raises. “Bad blood? What possibly could have happened? You’ve only been out of that cell for a few months.”

  Awyn sighs. “Neodyn and I…we grew up together. Well, I grew up with him. We had a bit of an age difference, but we were still to be married when I turned eighteen.” She pauses, not wanting to reveal everything. “That obviously didn’t happen, and there have been…unwanted feelings. Then he balked on his promise to help me win back Mera...” She looks over at him. “Bad blood, that’s all.”

  Kepp seems like he wants to ask more questions, but he also seems to know better as his eyes land back on the horizon.

  Adriel has that look in her eyes that tells someone not to ask any more questions, and Awyn is sure she has it too. It’s not harsh, or angry. It’s more…sad.

  “Are you going to be all right seeing him again?” Kepp asks.

  Awyn glances his way. “It won’t be easy.” She lets out a short, sharp exhale. “But I’ll manage. We used to be friends. I’m sure everything will return to the way it was before this whole mess.”

  Kepp nods, and Awyn looks forward once again. She probably isn’t nearly as convincing as she’d like to be, but neither of them says anything.

  They ride along the frozen Ceo River. They passed the entrance to Winter’s Pass a few hours ago and should arrive at Thasoe tomorrow if they ride again in early morning.

  When evening comes, they set up camp. A fire, bedrolls, and blankets make up their home for the night. They have some food left, but Saine went hunting anyway and caught a snow rabbit. The gray sky darkens above them, the coming dusk colorless and faded.

  The clouds don’t part, the night starless with no moon. Awyn almost laughs to herself as she lies on her back, staring up at the cloudy sky. It’s as if the sky knows that she doesn’t want to be here, making the journey even more painful.

  The group asleep, Awyn is the last to slumber, but her sleep is hardly empty and dreamless.

  She walks through the palace. It’s familiar, the halls, the golden ceiling. It’s Kevah, but it’s also shadowed. Not how it is when the torches are out and night falls, but different. As if something is casting darkness on the palace.

  She walks to one of the windows and sees the large city below, also covered in shadow. The plains are snow laden, and the ground level of the city is the darkest, almost nonexistent.

  She walks down the hall, seeing no servants or guards. Maybe her people did abandon Kevah, moved elsewhere. She can hardly blame them.

  Walking outside, Awyn enters the stone courtyard. The pool in the center of the yard is frozen over, the cherry tree that once stood over the two thrones dead and shriveled. The thrones are shadowed. In fact, everything has a gray tint to it.

  She walks behind the palace, along the wall that outlines its yards until she can’t walk anymore due to the heart-wrenching scene in front of her.

  A cemetery. It was always there, but this one is huge. Gravestones dot the flat mountain floor, covered in snow. Two large, winged stone statues of her parents holding an Everstar near their hearts stand tall on a raised dais, the wings chipped.

  Awyn doesn’t even need to see the inscription to know it’s her parents’ markers. The Meran kings and queens don’t get buried but are set aflame in a boat on the Lake of Kings, but they still get gravestones. She never thought Tamon would do that.

  She sees a marker for a few generals, lieutenants, and countless soldiers and guards, their names scratched without care into the stone. Walking up to her parents, she places her hand on the cold stone surface, a chilling touch. Beside her father’s is Tamon’s.

  Farther in the cemetery, she drops to her knees when she sees a larger marker than most, but smaller than the king and queen’s, and the words engraved on the smooth stone.

  Here Lies Princess Awyn of Mera

  May she rest in peace

  9 years old

  Tears well up as she reads the short, unfeeling inscription. She runs her fingers along the cold indented words.

  She’s dead? She’s a ghost? What world is this?

  Awyn looks down as she feels a tingly feeling in her hands and watches as they sta
rt to blow away in the wind like sand. Like leaves in the wind, she begins to disappear. Behind her a malicious laugh makes her head turn. Her eyes widen, and she somehow stands as she continues to blow away.

  Revera stands there among the graves, laughing wickedly. She’s the only color in the world, her crimson lips curled in a smile, her red dress blowing in the wind. Over her brow, sits a crown of silver, red-painted leaves that in this moment symbolize more than just evil: they symbolize power.

  She’s the last thing Awyn sees before she’s completely swept away, pieces of her body and soul one with the wind.

  Awyn wakes up abruptly, breathing heavily. Normally, she’d be sweating by now, but due to the frigid weather, that hasn’t occurred. Thank the Spirits it was just a dream. She would not want to live in a world where Revera rules.

  She even killed Tamon.

  Beside her Neodyn stirs in his sleep, making her jolt in surprise. That’s when she realizes she’s in a room, not fields. From the white marble walls with golden streaks, this is the Thasoe palace.

  What is she doing in the same bed as the king?

  She shakes Neodyn, waking him up.

  He groans, sleepy. “What? What’s wrong?” he asks, not fully awake yet.

  “When did I arrive here? Why am I in your bed? Where are Kepp, Eldowyn, and Adriel? Where’s Aradon?” Her words stream together so fast, it makes Neodyn sit up, looking at her like she has three heads.

  “What are you talking about?” he asks.

  Awyn stares at him. A wind of cautiousness and suspicion hits her.

  “Where is Lilyara?”

  Neodyn’s brow furrows. “Who?”

  Awyn’s eyes widen, jaw dropping. What universe is this? Is this another dream? She quickly pinches herself. Yes, definitely a dream. Her gaze catches on her ring finger, a diamond-studded band strangling her skin. What? She looks back at Neodyn.

  “So, you’ve never met Lily?”

  Neodyn sighs. “Awyn, you must be tired, go back to sleep.” He lies back down.

  Awyn clutches the blanket, confused. Okay, deep breath. This is just a dream, right? If I’m married to Neodyn, my father and mother must still be alive and Tamon never assumed the throne. She lets out a relieved breath. Lying down, she snuggles closer to Neodyn.

  In her dream world, her future can be as bleak as it is now, or as bright as it was when she was nine. She is free to love whom she chooses.

  They ride off early the next morning as dawn clears the black night, making way for a beautiful sunrise. The sky is cast with purple, blue, and orange, streaks of gold as the sun rises from the snow-covered plains.

  Thasoe can be seen in the far distance, its nickname “the Shining City” living up to its title, dazzling in the sunlight above. The golden domed roofs shine, and the gold streaked white marble sparkles, the steps to the palace bright and rich.

  From here the temple can’t be seen, but it was once as bright and beautiful as the city. The kings have let it be abandoned, the building going into slight ruin over the years. But it looks like Neodyn had finally decided to close the doors, so robbers can’t get in—a change of heart since last time she was in the city.

  As they near Thasoe, it’s all Awyn can do from galloping in the opposite direction. When they get into the city under the two pillars, the soldiers take their horses, freeing them to walk up the steps to the palace.

  The stairs level off every few yards to give way for another marble path into the different levels of the hill city. When they reach the top, Awyn takes a deep breath before walking into the palace, but they are all stopped when the door flies open and Neodyn and his soldiers walk out to greet them.

  The travelers bow their heads in respect.

  Neodyn’s face is welcoming, but changes slightly when he lays eyes on Awyn, then reverts back to its original greeting.

  “Welcome, my friends.” Even under his joyful exterior, Awyn can tell something is wrong. “I hear you have just come back from the battle in the north. Tonight, I invite you to celebrate your victory at my table.”

  “Thank you, My Lord,” Eldowyn speaks for the group.

  They all bow their heads once again before following the king into the palace.

  “I’m afraid Lilyara won’t be able to join us this evening,” Neodyn says as they walk through the halls. “She has a minor fever, but nothing our court physicians can’t manage. They say it could be from the baby.”

  The others don’t seem fazed by the word, but Awyn nearly trips on her own feet. Lilyara’s having a baby? And Neodyn is the father? She takes a breath and composes herself as she continues walking.

  It had to happen sooner or later, I mean what did I expect? That they wouldn’t have an heir? That they wouldn’t have a child? I’m just being petty.

  They’re shown to their rooms and satisfied with that fact, Awyn allows herself to sit on her bed. Not surprisingly, it is the same room she was in last time she was here.

  She looks at her hands. If she weren’t an elf, she would have many scars all over them, but elves heal at a nearly impossible rate, so they don’t scar. Unless they’re cut by an immortal killing blade. Eldowyn has a scar on his chest to prove that.

  But sadly, elf magic doesn’t protect the heart.

  That’s nearly shredded by now.

  A knock comes from the door just as she’s dressing for dinner.

  “Uh, hold on a minute.” Quickly she ducks behind the divider, her finger fumbling with the last ties at the bottom of her back. “Is it Adriel?” She prays to the Spirits it is, so she can have some help with her last dress tie.

  “No, it’s Aradon.”

  She swears to herself.

  “Oh, okay. Uh…hold on.” She grabs a body-length mirror and rests it on the divider, looking in her vanity mirror, so she can see the ties. Another minute of fumbling and she finally succeeds. She breathes a sigh of relief, not wanting to have to ask Aradon to help her. “Okay, come in.”

  The door opens as she puts the mirror back.

  “It’s supper,” he says.

  Awyn nods, fixing strands of her hair and flattening out her ruffled red dress.

  “All right.” She hangs a dainty, silver chain with rubies angling from it, draping it over her head, the rubies at the front fall in a triangle over her forehead. She turns to him. “Let’s go.”

  Her silk dress flows behind her. The bodice is sleeveless, a high-necked collar, and tied in the back with red satin ribbons, set off by a beautiful silver sash tied at her waist.

  In the hallway, Adriel walks out of her own room, dressed in a flowing purple gown, silk and smooth. The bodice is encrusted with silver, and the purple sleeves drape low over her wrists. Silver shoes make Adriel look elegant, and taller than she already is. Her hair is done up so intricately, she must have had help. Long silver earrings dangle from her ears showing off her perfect neck.

  They exchange a small smile as they head to the dining room, Aradon trailing them, his arm in a sling.

  As they enter the hall, Saine nearly chokes on his wine when he sees Adriel emerge from the doorway.

  She smiles, walking over to him, sitting as he kisses her hand.

  “My darling, you look lovely.”

  “Thank you, Saine,” Adriel says, taking a sip of her own wine from a silver goblet.

  Awyn sits across from them, her brothers next to her. Aradon takes a seat next to Hagard and Ethiah. Neodyn presides from a separate door, his steps shuffling awkwardly when he sees Awyn in all her glory, but too subtle for anyone but her to notice.

  The room stands and bows their heads as Neodyn positions himself in front of his chair. After a moment they all sit. “Thank you everyone for coming,” he says.

  The group starts to eat. The feast is bountiful with roasted meat and vegetables. Ripe fruit, freshly baked breads, and rich cheeses sit on platters.

  “So, how did Hagard join this journey?” Neodyn asks as he cuts into a piece of tender meat.

  Hagard
looks at him. “Oh, I bumped inta dem at a tavern in Olway,” he answers.

  Neodyn nods, more questions arising.

  “How did you…get out of the palace, Awyn?” Neodyn asks.

  Awyn turns her head, not fully listening to the conversation. “Pardon?”

  “My guards never reported seeing you leave. That gray man said you had decided to get an early start, traveling to the Tanea and that you were with Aradon.”

  Aradon visibly tenses at the mention of Kaniel.

  “Oh, um. We…went out the back door,” Awyn says, not a complete lie. She exchanges glances with Aradon and Eldowyn. “Aradon followed me, then Eldowyn came looking for us.”

  Neodyn nods. “Whatever happened to that annoying wizard?”

  “Dreema…disappeared.” Aradon’s solemnity is contagious.

  Neodyn just nods. “Well, what happened after you left, Awyn?”

  “We headed to the Tanea, who then in turn sacrificed their army,” she says this with an edge in her voice. “We fought at Mera, then we sought out Tamon.” She takes a shaky breath. “Aradon killed him after he killed Kaniel. Kepp was there.”

  Neodyn glances at Kepp.

  “I was Revera’s servant. She had a spell over me. I wasn’t freed until my mother removed the spell,” he says.

  Both Adriel and Eldowyn look down at the mention of their mother, but Awyn isn’t even fazed.

  “He and Saine were trapped,” Awyn continues. “They were put in a hole in the desert by Revera. By that time, though, I had already been swallowed by the ground.”

  “You fell into the ground?” Neodyn asks, seeming equally intrigued and surprised.

  “Yes, I landed in Nethess. That’s where I met Adriel and found out that I am not only an elf, but Raea’s daughter and Revera’s niece.”

  Neodyn drops his knife, it clangs against the plate.

  “You—”

  “Did I forget anything, Aradon?” Awyn looks at him down the table.

  He looks caught off guard. “Uh, there was that—”

  “Oh, yes, I remember. We were captured by slave traders who then used me for their own pleasure.” She glares at Neodyn. “How did I forget those fun times?” She grits her teeth, standing, and without another word, leaves the room.