Black Moon Draw

by Lizzy Ford

  I’m surrounded by the men of Brown Sun Lake, who halt in the center of the torch lit foyer. Three dark corridors lead out of this area while the fourth wall is behind us, containing the sagging wooden doors marking the entrance.

  The temperature drops around us and fog clings to the corners of the ceiling. I shiver, grateful for the cloak and hood. My breath hangs in the air. The world is beginning to darken as night grows near, and torchlight alone provides visibility in the windowless interior.

  “What is this?” the Desert Knight growls. “Where are the guards? The people?”

  I’m wondering the same.

  “Welcome to Black Moon Draw,” Atreyu’s voice is quiet, hard – and far more unwelcoming than I’ve ever heard.

  I turn, crowding Westley.

  The castle wall ahead of us morphs from a corridor entrance into a well-lit stairwell. The Shadow Knight stands in his black cloak with his boar’s head on the landing. His powerful form is still, his forearms chiseled with tension. The combination of theatrics, the Shadow Knight’s size, and creepy castle wears on more than me.

  The Desert Knight’s men are reaching for their weapons. Westley grips my arm, less out of fear I’ll escape and more because he appears as scared as I feel.

  “He will not kill us, will he?” the teen whispers.

  “I don’t really know. He’s got nothing to lose.”

  “Then the safest place to stand is with you.”

  “Unless he’s afraid I’ll use my magic against him.”

  “Where are the people?” the Desert Knight booms. “Do not think to ambush me!”

  “There have been no people in Black Moon Draw in nearly a thousand years. Only an army, a Shadow Knight, and . . . the fog.”

  “Impossible!”

  “’Tis the way of Black Moon Draw. The rumors of madness are true. Should you stay too long in the castle or the city, you will die or go mad.”

  What a lonely life. My heart aches as I gaze at the boar-headed man, understanding even more what his sacrifice has been. Twenty-five years sleeping under fog, a constant reminder of the war he fought. Two decades without a home.

  The Desert Knight’s eyes narrow and he glances at me. I have a feeling he’s ready to chop me to bits.

  “The city is yours,” the Shadow Knight says. “If you can leave it alive.”

  Silence.

  My heart is beating so loudly, I’m afraid Westley can hear it. He’s pale, scared.

  “These were not our terms,” the Desert Knight warns. “You swore to surrender in exchange for her.” Striding to me, he yanks me free of his son, his grip hurting.

  “I have surrendered.” The Shadow Knight takes two steps down the stairs and then stops. “The city is yours. Black Moon Draw is yours. I promised you unopposed entry. At no point did I promise you the ability to leave.”

  “Then you can say farewell to your battle-witch!” The Desert Knight whips out a knife.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the fatal blow to fall.

  Cold fog chokes me like smoke and I start coughing. Everyone around me begins choking and coughing as well.

  The Desert Knight’s grip on me loosens, and I pull free, dropping to the ground. The smoke covers everything, leaving a thin layer of air near the floor. I suck in deep breaths, trying to make out anything around me. It’s not just dread in my gut; it’s the sense I’m lying under an anvil that’s about to drop.

  Something really bad is going to happen.

  Someone trips over me and lands flat on his belly beside me. I recognize Westley in the dim light.

  “We have to . . . get out of here,” I whisper to him.

  He nods.

  “The door is that way. Or was.” I point in the direction I think was right behind me. “Wasn’t it?”

  “’Twas.”

  “Ready?”

  “Aye.”

  Taking his hand, I hold my breath and bolt to my feet, running toward the area where the door was. The sounds of others coughing and stumbling fades. I keep one hand stretched out in front of me so I don’t collide with the door or anyone else. My fingertips graze the wall and I slow.

  “I don’t feel it,” Westley says and begins to cough.

  I don’t either. Without releasing his hand, I move down the wall in the direction towards the entrance. The stone wall is cool and smooth – but there’s no door.

  My thoughts return to the sight of a stairwell melting out of the wall, and I quicken my pace, not wanting to get stuck in a castle that turns into a maze. LF clearly loves some of the same movies I do. I have a feeling her version of Labyrinth is going to be ten times worse than the movie. Unable to hold my breath anymore, I release it.

  The smoke is clearing. It no longer chokes me, the last tendrils tickling my neck as they dissipate.

  “There’s no door,” I say, stepping back to look right and left.

  “They’re gone,” Westley whispers, his attention behind us.

  I turn to see the foyer empty. Everything appears the same – except there is only one way out now, where there were at least three hallways to choose from before. All that remains is the stairwell where the Shadow Knight appeared.

  He’s gone. I don’t think it’s a good sign that he didn’t stick around to check on me.

  “You think people really go mad here?” I ask.

  “Oh, aye. The stories have been around for years.”

  Not good. “That takes us deeper into the castle,” I say, nodding towards the stairwell. “Kinda the opposite of the direction we want to go.”

  “You know this man better than any other. What is he doing?”

  I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”

  “He would not kill his battle-witch.” There’s uncertainty in Westley’s statement.

  “Let’s hope not. I’m supposed to use my magic to stop the curse somewhere in the castle.”

  “Do you know where?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then further into the castle of madness we must go.”

  Neither of us moves.

  We’re both quiet a moment longer. My adrenaline is humming and the hair on my arms stands on end. The electricity I feel when the medallion worked is in the air here, thick and heavy, like three thunderstorms about to crack open the skies. This is the source of the fog creeping across the world – the castle of Black Moon Draw. I’m going to ignore the fact that everyone who ever enters this place goes crazy or disappears mysteriously.

  “You’re right. One way to go,” I say with forced cheerfulness. “Be nice to your battle-witch!” I shout into the castle.

  No response.

  “Don’t let go,” I warn Westley.

  “I won’t.”

  Together we step towards the stairs and ascend them. They’re solid for having materialized out of thin air as is the stone landing at the top.

  There are three hallways to choose from, one lighted with torches while the other two are dark, cold, and silent. As creepy as this place is, I’m going to assume there’s a good possibility the unlit corridors lead to sudden drops. “This way,” I say and head down the lighted hallway.

  “How can you know?” the teen asks.

  “Because it’s the only hallway with light.”

  “I see no light.”

  I stop and face him. “You seriously can’t see the torches?” I point.

  “Nay, witch. I see naught but darkness every way.”

  Hope bubbles inside me. Maybe the Shadow Knight hasn’t gone mad yet and is trying to help me. “Either I have magic or he left the light on for me.”

  “So long as you are in his favor and he is not leading you into a trap.”

  If you use the magic of Black Moon Draw in support of my enemies, I will come for your head. The parting words of the possibly now-crazy Shadow Knight drift through my mind. “I’m uh . . . fairly confident he won’t kill me,” I mumble. “We don’t have much of a choice anyway, right?”

  The teen is scared
, but doesn’t resist when I tug him down the hallway. We reach a dead end with two more options of where to go. Once more, one hall is lighted.

  “Do they both look dark to you?” I ask.

  “Aye.” Westley is uneasy.

  “This way.” I tug him after me.

  I can’t help but think the lighted hallways are leading us somewhere we may not want to be instead of guiding us out. Is it the work of the Shadow Knight I know I can trust or the battle queen’s spell that’s grown out of control since it was first cast? Salvation or trap?

  “Do you hear that?” Westley whispers.

  “What?”

  “Someone following us.”

  I turn around and see nothing in the brightly lit hallway. “There’s no one there.”

  “But I can hear him.”

  We stop walking and I listen hard without hearing anything. “C’mon. Maybe we can find a window or exit sign or something.”

  “Nay, witch. He is almost upon us!” Westley pulls free of my hand and whirls, brandishing his sword.

  “No! Don’t let go!” I cry too late.

  He vanishes.

  I stare into the vacant hallway, unable to see or hear him or the man he thought was following.

  “Shit!” I start back the way we came.

  A loud creak makes me stop, and seconds later, the stone at the tip of my toes collapses. Blackness yawns open, the hole too wide for me to jump.

  “Okay. Someone clearly wants me to go the other way.” There are no cameras in this world, but I look for them anyway in the corners of the rafters far above. Focused on breathing steadily, I face the direction the castle is herding me and start forward once more. “If you can hear me, please don’t hurt Westley. He helped me. He’s not your enemy.” Except for the whole conspiracy issue. It seems rather minor right now, given my current situation.

  It’s quiet and bright yet still creepy, the fog hanging in the shadows of the ceiling as if waiting for the chance to pounce.

  I don’t move for a long moment, thoughts in turmoil. I don’t want Westley to die here, but how do I help him if he’s invisible, trapped somewhere in this creepy castle? I’m supposed to face the curse and help the Shadow Knight defeat it.

  “Maybe I am supposed to be here now,” I say, the sound of my voice helping me focus. “Find Atreyu, stop the curse, save the world.” With what magic? asks my self-doubt. “One thing at a time,” I reply.

  I start forward again, scared of what I’ll find and terrified of screwing up. My shallow breathing is the only sound in the hall.

  The torches lead me through several more hallways and up a set of stairs, followed by another confusing maze of halls. The torches start to flicker off and I freeze, watching. The fires go out ahead of me as well as behind me, until the light of one room is all that there is. With some reticence, I approach the doorway and pause, afraid of what I’ll find.

  The opulent bedchamber is the grandest I’ve seen yet, with murals made of dusty gems on the ceiling and along one gilded wall. Windows look out at the darkened sky. Two huge hearths are burning and the room is large enough to have its own sitting area, dining area, and huge bed, in addition to four squatting wardrobes.

  The Shadow Knight is on the side of the chamber opposite the bed, standing before a hearth and gazing into it.

  “Atreyu!” I exclaim, relieved to see him. I enter. The door closes behind me and I wait for him to speak or move.

  He doesn’t.

  My god – that body. My eyes go over his muscular, thick frame slowly, from the dark hair to his broad shoulders, slender hips, and the thighs that make my panties melt. Already my blood is heating. The only part of him I don’t find attractive: the boar head.

  “I’m here to help,” I say awkwardly.

  “No one can help.”

  “Isn’t this what we’re meant to do?”

  The boar head swivels towards me, revealing the light gray eyes of the warrior side of him that’s never fully under his control. He’s ready to kill me or make love to me.

  I stop where I am, heat blooming in my lower belly, along with fear.

  “’Tis too late,” he growls.

  “You have to try, right? You can’t let the world go without fighting until the last minute.”

  He says nothing, watching me.

  I really don’t like that look. “Can we talk without the head?”

  He doesn’t move.

  “It’s me, your battle-witch, not your enemy,” I remind him. “Just for a minute. No boar head. You can put it back on before you . . . whatever.”

  He raises his hands and pulls it off. His face is stony, almost unrecognizable with its coldness. I had hoped to see a glimmer of something in his eyes indicating he had a plan.

  A little less freaked out, I nervously inch closer. “You have to try, Atreyu.”

  “Two kingdoms stand defiant and I have surrendered my hold.”

  A flair of heat ignites inside me. “So you’re giving up?” I ask, baffled. “Just like that?”

  “I tried to enter the chamber where the fog originates. ‘Tis not accessible by any means. I cannot defeat Brown Sun Lake when my armies are too far. I cannot win,” he responds. “I am the final Shadow Knight, the last of my line to have failed.”

  “No! I refuse to accept that answer! You spent twenty-five years away from home to prevent this. Your forefathers spent a thousand years doing the same! You can’t give up when you’re so close!” Nearing him, I stare up into his face, seeking some part of him that’s willing to reconsider. “Atreyu, you must fight!”

  “You should not have come.” His voice is softer. He cups my cheek with a hand.

  “You led me to you. You wanted me to find you.”

  “’Tis not possible. I control none of this.” He waves to the fog on the ceiling. “You used magic to find me.”

  “Since when has my magic worked remotely well enough for me to do that?” I snap. A flicker of amusement crosses his features and I seize on it. “Please. There are so many people depending on you.”

  His eyes turn dark and then back to the gray of fog once more. He takes my shoulders. I stand frozen for a moment, heart heavy with the knowledge that the medallion is gone, before I realize if ever there was a time to grow a backbone and fight for what I really want, it’s now.

  “There’s a part of you that kind of likes me,” I continue. “The side that said you’d take me as a queen if you weren’t betrothed. I’d like to think it wasn’t for my witchly qualities, which means, you don’t want me dying tomorrow.”

  “You are correct, Naia. You need to leave.” His tone is softer. “Go back to your home. Mine will not be here much longer.”

  Crushed, I can’t help the tears forming. “For the first time in my life, I know what I want, and it’s not to sit in my depressing apartment going to a job I can’t stand! I want to help you save your world.”

  He wipes away a tear with his thumb. “’Tis too late for my realm.” His gaze goes to my lips.

  “Even if I didn’t want to be here, I don’t know how to go home. It means we have to stop this, no matter what.”

  “’Tis not possible.” His calmness normally steadies me. This time, it makes me frantic. I can hear his resolve, his acceptance of the situation. He’s truly given up.

  “You have to stop this.” I take his hand and squeeze. “No one else can!”

  “’Tis not so easy. I have tested the evil of this place. It cannot be defeated, not after a thousand years.”

  I don’t know what to say and my throat is almost too tight to speak.

  His eyes return to mine, flickering between gray and black, fog and man, death and life.

  “Please try,” I whisper.

  “I do not have that power.”

  “Then who does?”

  “No one.”

  “Not even me?”

  His eyes go to the spot on my chest where the Heart rested. “I felt it die.”

  Oh, god. The te
ars are coming, accompanied by raw emotion I can’t stop. Afraid to feel and terrified of being hurt, I’ve spent a lifetime building barriers around my heart and feelings. The walls are crashing down, releasing every part of me I’ve ever tried to hide away. My body quivers with the effort it takes to prevent a breakdown.

  “So that’s it?” I whisper in a choked voice. “It’s over.”

  “Aye, ‘tis.”

  “But . . . I just found out you’re not really betrothed.” What a stupid thing to say. On the edge of the apocalypse and all I can think about is how much I really, really want a shot with the man before me?

  His eyebrows go up. “What say you?”

  “She told me, and her brother, that she’s been bonded to the Desert Knight’s son for a year.”

  “Desert Knight’s son,” he repeats. “I knew she was bonded . . .” A spark of something is in his eyes.

  “What?” I ask instantly, my emotions careening from despair to hope.

  He shakes his head.

  “Please, please tell me you have an idea!” I plead, moving closer. I take his face and force him to look down at me. “Does it mean anything if I say I’ll consider your offer to become your queen, if you do it?”

  “Offer?” he repeats, offense in his tone. “A Knight does not offer.” As he speaks, his hands settle on my hips. “There is no way to stop this, Naia. I would take you as my queen tonight only to lose you tomorrow.”

  “It’s my fault, isn’t it? If I’d believed you sooner, tried harder to help, prevented the-” My words are choked, barely audible.

  “Nay.” He draws me into his hard body. “’Tis not your duty to prevent my realm from dying. It is mine.”

  “It’s why I’m here! And I failed. I always fail!” The tears are coming faster, the reality of my situation smashing down on me. I had a chance to make a difference, to help the amazing man before me – and failed. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry!”