Pursuer (Alwahi Series)
Page 16
Concentrating on the sound of her movement she was able to discern when there was a second body moving behind her. The hairs on her arm stood up, as she felt a vibration in her body. It was the vibration of a string, quivering slightly as it released its hold, sending its arrow soaring. There was no thinking, just instinct, Zanas dived around the corner of the next canyon, and heard the shattering of wood meeting stone, the tiny shards raining down upon her.
She pushed herself back up in one fluid motion, and once again began racing through the canyons. She could hear the steady rhythm of his feet picking up pace behind her, pushing forward, gaining. Changing her strategy, she began zigzagging through canyon entrances. Barely skidding around a corner, she heard a soft curse as he missed, forced to back track.
Pounding her feet onto the rock beneath her, she worked on increasing the gap between them. Zanas came around the corner at full speed and came to a stop, her feet leaving a trail on the thin layer of sand. Ahead loomed the high walls of the canyon; she had entered a dead end. Given only had a split second to register this, she heard the twang of an arrow being released.
Zanas pivoted instantly, but still was not fast enough. A small scream escaped her lips as the arrow pierced her shoulder. It was as through a hot searing poker had been stabbed through her flesh. Her vision began to darken, that small voice telling her that it was over, that she should lie down and give up, that she was not strong enough.
But that was not her voice. That was what she had been led to believe all her life. But she was strong enough. She would not lie down and die, and for the last time she silenced that voice. She would finally accept who she was meant to be, she finally had no fear. Her vision turned from black, to the reddish tint of the hunt. A growl of anger burst from her lips as she reached up and tore the arrow from her shoulder, placing her hand against the wound, blood oozing from between her fingers.
He was pulling his final arrow from his quiver and placing it in its notch, aiming it at her heart.
Zanas sprinted into motion, running towards him in a random, zigzagging way. Part of her watched Dressdon as he trailed her, moving his aim as she moved, trying to get a good shot. He almost had it, she could sense his finger begin to tense as he prepared to release his arrow. Zanas used that second to leap onto the side of the canyon wall, using its hard surface to push off with her feet, and launch herself at Dressdon. She soared through the air like a missile, her foot connecting with the side of his face, shock registering as his bow was knocked free from his hands.
The clank of Dressdon’s bow hitting the rock echoed in her ears, as they fell to the ground. Zanas felt the breath knocked from her, and she panicked for a moment, unable to breath. Air finally began to travel down her airways, and she gasped in the cool sweetness. Zanas was finally able to focus, the hazy outline of the arrow coming into view.
She reached out, trying to grab the arrow in her hands, only to feel the iron grip of Dressdon as he dragged her back towards him. The rough floor of the canyon scratched at her clothing and she heard the rip of fabric, and the stinging of scrapped flesh. Zanas twisted around, trying to free her leg from Dressdon’s grip, kicking her other leg out. With one mighty yank, he had pulled her beside him, pinning her down firmly with his wide hands.
A small scream escaped her lips as his hand dug into the injury in her shoulder. Stars began to form in her vision, her peripheral turning black. In a desperate attempt to keep her consciousness, Zanas dug her hands into the ground beneath her, the rocky substance crumbling in her fingers. The weight of his body pressed on hers, holding her down in her last attempt at a struggle. The spots in her vision spread, her strength seeping, just as her blood seeped into the canyon beneath her. Her hands jerked, grasping, finally catching hold.
The weight lifted from her body, and her awareness was sucked back inside her. Her eyes focused on Dressdon’s back as he walked towards his bow and the arrow that lay still on the ground. She ignored the pounding in her head and the wet sticky feeling of her clothes as she pulled herself up.
He didn’t see her coming; he had underestimated her, and with his back still turned, Zanas brought down the rock she had clawed from the earth upon his head. Dressdon let out a gasp as he collapsed to one knee. Holding her hand to her shoulder, Zanas gritted her teeth in pain as she made her way out of the dead-end.
She felt a second surge, as the adrenaline coursed through her veins once more, and she picked up her pace to a jog. Zanas did not know how long her surge of energy would last, but she did know that the wound in her shoulder was continuing to bleed, and blood had begun to trail down her legs.
Zanas ducked into a side canyon, keeping her ears focused for movement behind her. She wondered how long it would take Dressdon to pick up her trail. He was a skilled hunter and she had no doubt that he would catch up. Even if she had been able to outsmart Dressdon, the telltale trail of blood that she was leaving in her wake would lead him right to her. Besides, she was losing too much blood; her new rush of energy wouldn’t last long. She needed to figure out a way to meet him on her own terms.
Zanas stopped her movement, and began scanning the tall wall of the canyon, trying to find a place that she might be able to climb up to. The glimmer of shale at the foot of the wall drew her attention. A piece lay there like a dagger chiseled by the gods themselves, laying in wait for her hands to grasp it in defense. She picked it up, tucking it into her waist as she began her climb up the rock face.
She climbed up above the entrance to the canyon, looking down she could clearly pick out the red drops that dotted the canyon floor beneath her. From this vantage, it appeared as though she had been struggling, her trail weaving back and forth. This was good. He would think that she was weakening. She tried not to think too long on the fact that this was true, as her hands began to shake, cold as ice.
A shuffle in the canyon below her drew her attention. He was coming, his eyes scanning the floor, stalking his prey. His bow rested solidly in his hands, his final black tipped arrow awaiting its release. He was a formidable opponent. Her last thought echoed in her mind as his green eyes flashed up toward her, just as her body tensed, preparing to drop down on him, her jagged blade clenched in her hands.
Her body fell like an angel of death, hurtling down towards her foe. Her delirium filled plummet felt as though she soared like a bird. She could almost feel the wings that carried her body. A blurry movement crossed her vision, and a scream escaped her lips, as the searing poker was applied to her flesh once more, the third arrow piercing her thigh.
The bird had been shot down, and she fell with no direction. Zanas felt the vibration in her bones as she hit Dressdon, slamming him to the floor. The searing pain of the arrow pulled another scream from her lips, but this time in rage. The blade still clenched in her hands, she brought it to Dressdon’s neck, applying pressure. She watched as small drops of blood escaped from the thin line that appeared.
He made no move to defend himself. Zanas breathed through bared teeth, the sickening sweet smell of her blood heavy in the air.
“I should cut you…” she growled, gripping the blade tighter in her hands. “You shot me!”
“And you survived, just as I knew you would,” he said quietly, his eyes still dancing with the flames she had seen earlier. “I would not have placed you here if I didn’t think you would survive. How do you think you ended up on this team?” he asked. For a moment, she was too surprised to speak.
“You…” she began.
“I requested that you be put on my team,” he said with a look that made her heart pound excitedly. Her vision lost its reddish hue and began to return to normal. “I knew that it would mean that I would have to face you in the final challenge.” His eyes had begun to smolder, their gaze holding her captive. “I believe whole heartedly in the ways of the Pursuer. We all must rightfully pass the final challenge.” His hands moved up, gently pulling the blade out of her hands. “And you have passed…” he whispered, “And now y
ou’re mine. Just as you always have been, from that first moment I saw you in the woods.”
“You’re mine Zanass.” Her name ended on his lips with a slight hiss.
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