“I don't intend to kill you,” she says through her teeth, setting the glimmering arrow on her string. “But if you test me any further, my finger might just slip!”
Zeldek wisely takes a step back.
Bellator pulls back the bowstring to her ear. “Return home now while you still can and wait for the full extent of your power to be restored to you! Then come seeking vengeance.”
Rage burns on his face. “You stupid girl! You cannot overpower me!”
“I couldn't overpower you,” she corrects. “But you said yourself that this weapon contains great power.”
“It does,” he snarls, drawing his sword. “And I will not lose it again!”
He raises his weapon above his head and swings it in a full circle. Fire blazes from it, casting a ring of flames around us. Bellator keeps a centre of calm as he attempts to entrap us, her bowstring held back, waiting to strike the killing blow. Sword in one hand, Zeldek holds out his other, palm up. A tongue of flames flares, forming itself into a rolling ball. He hurls it at her, and she flips backward onto the altar to evade it. The flames hit the base of the stairs, cracking the cold stone.
“You amuse me,” he taunts. “You know that you cannot win. Why do you continue to fight?”
Uncertainty flickers over Bellator's face, but she quickly shakes it away. “You do not control me anymore! With this arrow, no one will ever enslave me again!”
“You seal your own fate!”
He thrusts his sword at her and fire shoots from it. Without thinking, without deliberation, I whip out my sword, and leap between them. Power that I thought was drained while breaking the spell shoots through my hands and into the sword. The tinted metal shines with blue light that flashes like lightning and the flames extinguish.
My strength fails me and I fall to my knees.
Zeldek steps toward me, anger and humour playing in his eyes. “Your power weakens you, boy! If you had let me teach you how to control it, you might actually be worth my time!”
He swipes his hand to the side. It is as if someone has hit me with an invisible wall. I am thrown into the air, hurtled over the ring of flames, and then crumble to the floor on the other side, skidding until I hit the wall. The whole left side of my body is paralyzed with pain and my head aches blindingly.
Through the tears that blur my eyes, I can make out Zeldek advancing toward Bellator. She stands her ground, setting the arrow on the string once more. But instead of attacking again, he begins to skirt the altar, keeping his sword pointed at her.
“You won't shoot me,” he announces.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” she growls, keeping the arrow trained on him.
“How could you? You are weak. Too weak to be able to handle the power that arrow possesses.”
She shakes her head. “I know what you're trying to do.”
“Oh?” he asks with a tone of surprise.
“It won't work. Not this time.”
He smiles as if appeasing a child. “You know that it would be safer in my hands. You know that I am the best person to have it. Why do you continue to resist the truth?”
Her uncertainty grows and her hand begins to relax the string.
Zeldek's voice is low and rhythmic, as if he were performing some ancient chant. “Give the arrow to me and come home. I will forgive your insolence. Things will go back to how they were and all will be... forgotten.”
I feel a disturbance in the air as he enunciates the last word and I know that something is wrong. Bellator's face has lost its defiance. Her eyes are blank and empty as she lowers her bow. The arrow dangles carelessly from her hand.
“That's it,” he says. “Hand it over. Now.”
Bellator stares down at the arrow without seeing it and holds it out to him.
“No!” Batuel cries, throwing herself between them. Her hands grasp for the shaft of the arrow, desperate to pull it out of her brother's reach forever. But they only slide through it.
“Silence, witch!” Zeldek snaps. “Your time is long over!”
“Perhaps,” she says bitterly, “you should have thought of that before you cursed my spirit to walk the earth for eternity!”
With a flick of his hand, Zeldek throws the ghost aside. She cries out as her chains are tightened and she disappears in a shimmering veil. Then he returns his attention to Bellator.
“That's it,” he coaxes. “Give it to me.”
“Bellator!” I cry, pulling myself to my feet. My head spins, and I have to grab onto the wall to keep from falling over. “Don't do it!”
She turns distractedly and I see hopelessness in her eyes. “It's no use fighting,” she says. “He's too strong.”
“Not for you—”
“You don't get it! I'm not like you. I can't fight him like you can.”
“That's not true!”
“I'm not strong enough.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “Bellator, you're the strongest person I know!”
“I don't think you understand,” Zeldek says, closing his long fingers around the golden shaft. He pulls it from her hand and holds it up to the light. “Bellator is strong in many ways that are beneficial to me. It's when she starts thinking for herself that there's a problem. So I've ensured that she can't fight back, even if she desperately wants to.”
“What have you done to her?” I demand.
“The Aemurel can be used for many things, half-race. It creeps into the mind, twisting thoughts and ensnaring the will to its own command. I've been able to use this to my own advantage. Bellator is completely and irrevocably under my control. She will come to accept this in time. As will you.”
“You will never control me!”
“As always, I admire your courage.” He smiles, coming around the altar. “But you are wrong. You think you can match my power, but you've seen nothing yet!”
The arrow is an illuminated golden line as he raises it in the air. Thin streaks of light form in a ring around the tip, expanding and ricocheting off the walls with a rumbling buzz.
“Bow!” he says, pointing the arrow at me.
A spear of light hurtles out and strikes me full in the chest. Pain vibrates through me, sharp and refined like a thousand honed knives. It throws me back against the wall with a force that knocks every ounce of air from my lungs. The pain circles through me and exits from my throat as a tortured scream.
“You will know more pain than anyone who has gone before you and any that will come after!” he cries, the flashing of the light casting eerie shadows over his face.
“No!” a voice, deep and savage, echoes through the room.
Zeldek begins to turn, but in a blur of movement, a fist hits him in the jaw, and he flies back. The arrow slips from his hand, clattering to the floor near his attacker's feet. Bellator stands over him, her eyes alive with hatred.
“You will not control me and you will not hurt him!”
Zeldek puts his hand to his jaw, staring at her in surprise. “How—”
“You will never control me again,” she growls. “Leave now, and I will allow you to live.”
“You'll allow me to live?” he scoffs, rage reddening his face. “The boy will beg for mercy over your mangled body!”
“Come on then! I dare you!” she retorts, an unearthly rumble to her voice.
He is on his feet in a second, but she's faster. The arrow of Arnon is on her bow, and she lets it fly. It finds its mark in his chest.
He staggers back, stumbling over the train of his robe.
“What have you done?” he cries.
She lowers her bow, straightening up with grace. Her jaw is set, yet a smirk curls her lips.
Zeldek reaches up a trembling hand and grasps the golden shaft. Blood seeps through the crack in his armour, staining the pale skin of his hand. He draws in his breath with a hiss that seems to echo through the timelessness of the room, and lifts his hand up in front of his face. He stares, horror-stricken at the sparkling blood that runs down his arm. A sudde
n and violent shudder goes through him and his legs buckle. He falls forward, catching himself on his hands and knees. The ring of flames that surrounds the altar sputters and dies.
Bellator leaps toward him, seizing the shaft of the arrow in her hand. Her eyes sink into swirling pools of loathing and she pulls him forward so that his face is inches from hers.
“This is for Fyra!” she says through her teeth, and rips the arrow out of his chest.
He shrieks in agony, stumbling backward. “You will regret this! I will have my vengeance!”
Black smoke billows from his hand, cloaking him from view. When it evaporates, he is gone.
Bellator straightens up, panting, and runs a dirty hand through her hair. I can tell that she's exhausted, but she hides it beneath a sturdy composure. I can't help but admire her for it.
And me? Well, I'm sprawled back against the wall, knees trembling, keeping as still as I can for fear of falling over.
“Well done, my child,” Batuel praises, materializing beside the altar once again. “You have avenged our family's honour and earned the right to bear the weapon of your ancestors. Use it with pride!”
Bellator acknowledges this with a nod. “And you? Will you be freed from this curse?”
Batuel looks down at the shackles on her wrists, and her elation fades. “I know not. His curse would only be broken if the arrow was his.”
Bellator quirks an eyebrow. “It was his, for however short a time.”
The ghost smiles sadly. "I'm not sure that the laws of magic work that way."
“Who cares? Any law can be broken.”
“My dear child, you are clever and brave, but you must not grow conceited in this small victory. Zeldek will be back with more power than ever before.”
Bellator raises her chin. “And I will be ready for him.”
“I hope you’re right.” Batuel bows her head. “I admit, I still have misgivings about you. To bear the weapon of an archer, you must be level headed and slow to violence, both of which you are not. The manner in which you broke the spell undermined the tests the spell would have given you, and thus you did not prove yourself worthy.”
“You think I’m not worthy of it?” Bellator challenges.
“When the arrow was mine, I was young, but I thought myself wise. I was blinded by own arrogance and sense of serenity. As a result, I thought that my violence was justified and I ended up hurting someone very close to me.” She sighs deeply. “That is why I locked it away; I could no longer trust myself. Beware the corruption of power, my daughter. Beware that you use it only for good.”
Bellator shrugs, unmoved. “I don’t have anyone close to me, so what do I have to lose?”
The ghost shakes her head. “I see a great darkness in you, and deep pain. You are guarded and cruel to make yourself feel stronger. This will be your downfall if you aren’t careful.”
“Tell me how I may set your mind at ease.”
“Gaining the arrow comes with a great responsibility; one which you must be true to. If you do this thing, you will earn the right to the power the weapon carries.”
Taking a breath, Bellator prepares herself. “What is this responsibility?”
“Valamette is now under your jurisdiction, as it was once under mine. You must watch over it as a guardian, to serve the people, and – should trouble arise – to be willing to give your life to protect it. Are you up to the task?”
“I am,” she says at once.
“Hmm,” Batuel frowns. “Know that you will be held to this oath for the remainder of your life. I warn you, do take it lightly and do not break it. Valamette may need you before the end.”
“Right...”
“I have a warning for both of you,” the ghost continues, casting a foreboding glance to me. “Dark things are coming. The war for Theara is just beginning, and the war against the Aemurel is long overdue. It has been foretold and it will come to pass. Woe to all caught up in its destruction.”
A chill creeps down my spine at her words.
Her gaze pierces me. “So great a burden has been cast upon you, child. How heavy still it will become.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my hand going up to clutch my aching chest.
She reaches her hand toward me. “Would that another had been found to carry this burden, to ease the pain fate has chosen for you.”
“That’s quite enough of that,” Bellator says sharply, stepping between us. “Batuel of Arnon, I free you from your bonds. You may go in peace to the land of the dead.”
Batuel's hand falls to her side. “I’m afraid that's not quite—”
“Aske izan!” The arrow is a blur in Bellator’s hand as she swishes it through the air, ending with a flourish that leaves the tarnished arrowhead pointing at Batuel. A star of white light gathers around the tip.
Weariness passes over Batuel's face, and she shakes her head. “I applaud your attempts, child, but you do not understand. My bonds were forged through Zeldek's magic and so Zeldek's magic must set me free.”
A sly smile forms on Bellator's lips. “I know.”
Sparkling blood drips from her hand, making a splattered blot on the marble floor. Black mist rises from the blood, twisting around the speck of white light at the arrow's tip. Dark and light entwine, the twisting elements moving out from the arrow and suspending in midair. They form a small sphere and spin through the air, lodging themselves in the lock of the shackles. A loud snap resounds off the walls. The chains fall from Batuel's wrists and clatter to the floor before vanishing entirely.
Batuel stares down at her wrists, her mouth agape, and then turns her gaze to Bellator with renewed admiration. “How did you—”
“I told you,” Bellator cuts in. “Zeldek trained me in the use of dark magic. I know a trick or two.”
Batuel's eyes shine with tears and she spreads her arms out like a bird. “May the blessings of our house be upon you, Bellator, daughter of Arnon! Let your name be remembered to all future generations!”
“Sure,” Bellator says with an uncomfortable smile.
Batuel turns her godlike gaze to me. “As for you, you have much to learn in so short a time. Go to my brothers in the north and train under them. They shall prepare you for what lies ahead.”
“If you mean Ulmer and Banner, I'm not sure that's the best idea. We don't really get along.”
“Do not see enemies where there are none! It is in my brothers’ destiny to keep you safe.”
I nod, but I still doubt that Ulmer's protection would help me any more than Zeldek's wrath would.
She turns to Bellator. “Your castle has been restored to its former glory. My work in this world is finished. I go now to take my place of rest with my family in the land of the dead. Farewell, and be strong.”
She dives into the air, spiralling into the ceiling. There is a flash of light that reverberates over the white marble dome of the ceiling, passing down the walls and into the floor. By the time it disappears, she is gone.
Bellator lets out her breath in a rush, and wanders over to sit on the steps of the altar. She looks conflicted, and I realize that she probably never expected that her golden trinket would come with so great a responsibility.
My own mind is overwhelmed with both fear and confusion, and my body is riddled with pain. While Bellator seemed to be shielding me from the brunt of Batuel's words, I can feel the weight of the truth that Bellator is trying to conceal from me.
I clear my throat, cringing at being the one to have to break the silence once again. “That was impressive.”
“Hmm?” she mumbles, distracted.
“You fought Zeldek by yourself and won!”
She sighs, putting her face in her hands. “Batuel’s right. This fight is far from over. I have injured him, yes, but it will take much more than that to kill him. Now that I've angered him, he'll be back with triple the strength. I must be ready.”
“You will be.”
She glances at me, a look of wonder etching i
tself into her dirty face. “Ealdred, I lied to you, took advantage of your ignorance, and used your power to further my own ends. How are you not angry with me?”
I shrug. “I don't know. I guess I just suspected it of you all along. But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't mind an explanation of why you did it.”
She laughs quietly. “I suppose I do owe you that. You see, I discovered that I was Batuel's heir not long after Zeldek took me in, and it took me less time to figure out that I didn't want a weapon like that in his hands. Since then, I have been seeking a feasible way to ensure that when Zeldek forced me to break the spell, not only would I succeed, but I would also have enough strength left inside of me to keep it from him. It was obvious to me that, considering all of the crimes that I have committed, my heart wasn't even close to pure, and I needed a way to trick the spell into thinking that it was. When I heard you refuse Zeldek's enticing offer, I knew that if anyone had a spotless heart, it would be you. It was very convenient for me when I discovered that only Zeldek seemed to know who your family was, and I thought that if you thought you were Batuel's descendant, you would be more willing to come along. I decided to test you, discover your strengths and your weaknesses, until I was satisfied that I could indeed use your magic to help break the spell.”
“And you also knew that you could sap up all of my magic to keep yourself strong enough to fight him.”
“That too,” she admits. “But I desperately needed the arrow. It was the only chance I had of freeing myself from Zeldek's control. In the months leading up to your arrival, I could feel that Zeldek was trying to strengthen me for the moment that I would mend the arrow, and this was only confirmed when I discovered that he had been studying the prophecy.
“It was when I found the prophecy in his study that I knew my time was running out. He was planning something big, something that went beyond breaking the spell on the arrow. Something that involved both of us, and I did not want to wait around to see what it was. It was the day we fled Gaiztoak that I realized he had also gathered the three keys together in one place, although it is possible that it was unknowingly. However, I will not count it as a coincidence that both Annalyn and Uri also carried a piece of the key when they were kidnapped and brought to Gaiztoak.”
Broken Arrow (Darkened Destiny Saga Book 1) Page 30