The Obsidian Arrow

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  “That may be, but it will not be by you.”

  Arria brought her dagger forward, slicing the yellow silk dress from chest to ankles. She pulled the throwing knife from the tree, causing the silk to slither to the ground. Aerenna wore nothing but yellow lace covering her bosom and nether regions. Fear grew in the witch’s tear-struck eyes, but she also showed resistance. Arria sliced the silk dress into strips, using them to gag to woman with, as well as bind her hands and feet. She secured Aerenna to the tree before spinning around to watch the two men continue to fight.

  Both appeared bloody. The blond held the stone in his right hand tightly. He took a deep breath before proceeding to bash the other’s skull in. The strikes flew quick and fierce, only seconds apart. Finally, the man with brown hair collapsed to the ground. With only a few more strikes at the fallen man, the blond rose to his feet. His arms shook unsteadily. Loud thunder crackled in the distance, followed by a heavy rain. He walked, shivering, toward Arria to kneel at her feet.

  “Well done. Impressive with only one hand. Tell me, where is this destroyed village?”

  “Three leagues northeast. It was once called Anevrea, but now we simply call it Death Valley. None who enter the old city have returned.”

  “Excellent,” Arria whispered.

  “Mistress, what about your part of the bargain?”

  “Ah yes, you still wish for this lady’s heart?”

  “I do.”

  “Excellent.” Arria smirked.

  She spun around to look at the woman, whose nearly naked flesh was covered in cold bumps. Arria held her dagger in her hand tight, slicing the yellow lace covering the woman’s bosom. Arria whispered a small spell under her breath. Aerenna cowered, but could not run. Arria carved around Aerenna’s bosom with her dagger. Blood poured along the woman’s body. She cried out in horror. Arria’s smile only broadened as she tore the flesh open and looked at the still-beating heart. It beat magnificently, with beauty and health. Truly a tasteful looking heart. Arria regretted she would not be able to feast upon it. She had made a promise, however. Shoving her hand into the woman’s flesh, she broke the ribs, tore the heart out, and held it in her hand. It continued to beat strongly, but the body once holding it went limp.

  The man stared at her with horror-struck eyes and mouth agape. His fist clenched as he stood up. He dove toward Arria, but she caught him with her left hand, continuing to hold the heart with her right. She smacked her lips against his. He faltered, collapsing into them. The energy from him drained into her, making her stronger; she grasped it with delight. She pulled away before he could give her all of his energy. He fell to the ground, weak, continuing to stare at her. She did promise him a heart; therefore, he would remain alive. She knelt on the ground, grabbing his right hand to force the heart into it. He grasped it shakily, bringing it toward his face to stare at. It continued to beat calmly as if at peace, which it would be now that it rested in the hands of one who loved it. Tears fell from the man’s eyes, but he did not have the energy to move.

  Arria smiled. “Forever you shall have the heart of the one you love.”

  She spun around to head northeast. It would not be long now until she reached the village. Death Valley. The name suited it. Whimpering came from behind her, keeping the smile upon her face. Yes, it would not be long now.

  Chapter 36

  Charlotte shivered as her memories faded. She realized she still clung to the tree outside the kingdom of women. She felt at the folds of her white-and-blue dress and found the teddy within it. A solemn smile found her face as she remembered the kindness of her mother and father. She gave the teddy a big hug before placing it back in its fold. The innocent blood within it had long since dried, but she dared not wash it, for it now had a part of her mother and father within it. It was that which she clung to more than ever.

  When Charlotte stared at the gathering, she saw Starlyn speaking. Every ear, even those of the guards, was turned upon Starlyn to hear her speech with interest. Charlotte quietly slid from the tree and dashed into the camp between two women on patrol who were busy talking amongst themselves. If one thing could be counted on with a civilization of women, it would be that of never failing gossip.

  Charlotte found the red tent with green lace flaps she had been studying for days. The women seemed to hold it in high regard, as the green stitching was a way to honor a kheshlar. It made it easy for them to recognize the tent of the respected kheshlar, but little to their knowledge did they realize it painted a target for any friend of Starlyn. A few guards stood close by, yet not directly in front of the tent. Charlotte pulled a pebble from her pocket and tossed it along the road. The women turned, holding spears, to stare at the lone pebble bouncing across the dusty road. Charlotte took the opportunity to dash past the two of them and into the tent.

  The tent was nearly empty except for a few plants and flowers which grew in small clay pots scattered on tables and on the floor. She also saw a few paintings of the forest and trees. It seemed the women attempted to comfort the kheshlar into thinking of the solitude as home with a few plants and paintings of nature. They were fools, to say the least, to think such displays had any effect on a once free kheshlar. A painting of freedom would not represent freedom.

  There was little area to hide in, but Charlotte was small enough to fit between a tan pot with a plant and a wardrobe of clothes. She sat as still as she could. Charlotte calmed her breathing and the beating of her heart. She waited many long minutes before she heard Starlyn arrive. Two pairs of footsteps approached, however, so she remained motionless in concealment, listening to the whispers of the dark. She waited many long minutes until all remained quiet, before peering through the plant to Starlyn’s bed.

  The kheshlar lay motionless upon the bed with no clothes on. Her chest moved up and down quietly as if she were already in a deep sleep. Charlotte smiled. She went to take a step forward, when she heard a noise in the dark. Reluctantly, she took a step backward. She kept one eye forward through the thick leafy plant to gaze at the one who entered.

  A female, with a red hood, tall stainless steel boots, and fishnet stockings from her boots to her waist, approached the bed. She removed her hood, revealing a young face, yet not an ageless one like Starlyn’s. Her long raven-black hair hung past her shoulders, with a few strands falling on her bare firm bosom. She held a scepter with a glowing aura while she sat on the bed next to Starlyn.

  “You did well today, my dear Starlyn. I do not yet know if they chose to heed your advice. Yet, they are in consideration. The motion is being voted on as we speak,” a soft, yet dark voice calmly said in almost a whisper.

  Starlyn stirred, glowering at the woman. There appeared to be fear in Starlyn’s appearance, but she only nodded to the woman. The woman smiled almost cruelly before brushing her blue-polished fingernails against Starlyn’s pale cheek. She leaned in to kiss Starlyn, but Starlyn quickly turned her face away, causing the woman’s cold lips to touch only her cheek.

  “I am drained. Please … I just want to sleep.”

  “Very well. Rest strong, for tomorrow there are many things we must do.”

  The woman stood, grasping the scepter from the bed. She glanced around the room. Charlotte slid backward without a sound, her breath held tight. She remained frozen for many minutes before gaining the courage to peer back through the plant. She still waited many minutes before leaving the cover of the plant. She tiptoed to Starlyn’s bed. Starlyn seemed asleep now, with even rising and falling of her chest.

  “Starlyn?” Charlotte whispered.

  Starlyn’s eyes sprang open in a flutter before her head swung to meet Charlotte’s gaze. Her gunmetal eyes seemed to catch aflame before widening in horror. It seemed like she would shriek. Charlotte hastily slammed her index finger to her lips. Starlyn appeared to calm herself before sitting up in the bed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I am here for you,” Charlotte said.

  “Did they catch you?”<
br />
  “No, I am here of my own free will, and I have come to bring you out of here.”

  “It is no use, for their power is great and I’m afraid there is no escape.”

  “There is, Starlyn. I can take you out of here.”

  “No … Charlotte, you must leave. If you can, please escape. I do not wish for them to have you as well.”

  “I won’t go without you.” Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears.

  “No … Charlotte … please, do not cry.”

  “Come with me. I can get you out of here. You have to trust me … I can.”

  “There is not a way. I thought long and hard about escape until I deemed it useless. These women, these Ikchani, they are brilliant beyond any I have seen. No tricks or mockery will make these women abandon their posts.”

  Charlotte smiled. “My father once told me, ‘if curiosity does not kill the cat, the valiant mouse can lead it astray.’”

  Starlyn looked at Charlotte curiously, as if trying to read into her thoughts. Charlotte only laughed, tossing Starlyn a hooded red cloak. Starlyn grasped it, her eyebrows scrunched as she slid it over her naked body. Starlyn glanced around the tent, mouth parted, with loss in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked.

  “My hammer.” Starlyn sighed.

  Where do you think it is?” Charlotte asked.

  “There is an armory several tents over, yet it is a lost cause. Even if you can escape from here, which I doubt, the armory is guarded by at least four women.”

  “Do you doubt me?” Charlotte asked.

  “I’m afraid I do not know. I do believe in you, but I cannot say why.”

  “Good.”

  “What are we to do?” Starlyn asked.

  “Stay … and wait for my signal.”

  Charlotte dashed from a small cut in the back of the tent. Dusk settled the sky with the sun nearly hiding behind the trees. Women scurried about, yet there were few compared to before. Charlotte knew most would be elsewhere discussing the happenings of the day, or else already in their tents to rest. Standing just before the center of the main road, which passed through the tented village, were three women clad in armor, two with spears and one with a sword. Charlotte picked a medium stone from the ground, throwing it hard toward them, before quickly dashing in another direction. She heard the clatter of armor as a woman yelled through the air. At that moment, from where Charlotte now hid, she whistled with all of her might. Her whistle seemed to echo throughout the camp. She dashed along the street again so her whistle could not be traced.

  Murmurs erupted in the surrounding area as she blended in with the wanderers of the street. She wore a small red cloak over a dress she had scavenged earlier in the week, and so she appeared to be one of the children there. Soon the murmurs were silenced by a fierce echoing roar that shook all of the tents. All the passersby seemed to glance about with fear in their eyes. Many women in red cloaks shifted, ducking into tents or dashing away to other areas. The three warriors gripped their weapons tight, yet still they shook.

  A glorious white tiger sprang from the depths of the forest, tackling the two who wielded spears. The woman with the sword tried to fight, but after only one strike against the beautiful beast, her sword flew with a swipe of the tiger’s paw. Everyone in the surrounding area had dashed out of sight. The warrior looked into the tiger’s eyes before disappearing behind a few barrels. Snowflake came to Charlotte’s side. She whispered to it, pointing at the road. Within seconds, the tiger pranced off with a new objective in mind.

  Charlotte turned to find Starlyn’s eyes staring from the tear in the rear of the tent. Charlotte motioned for Starlyn to follow. The kheshlar tore the rip in the tent larger so she could squeeze through before dashing to meet the young girl. Her eyes opened wide, her expression unreadable, but she knew better than to speak. Charlotte made a motion with her hand of a hammer. Starlyn nodded, dashing across the road. She sprinted nearly three hundred paces before coming to a red tent with black trim. On the ground lay four women warriors. It could not be determined if they were unconscious or dead. Starlyn stared at them only briefly before dashing inside with Charlotte on her heels.

  It took a few moments for Starlyn to find her prized hammer. She even found her battle armor, which she quickly shoved into a bundle of cloth that she tied with rope. She held out her hand to Charlotte, beckoning her to lead the way. Charlotte nodded, dashing from the tent. Starlyn trailed close behind as Charlotte sped toward the woods. The streets were bare except for a few scurrying people who were too scared for their own lives to notice either Starlyn or Charlotte. More roars echoed further through the tented village, keeping the villagers’ attention.

  Charlotte ran for what seemed like days, yet it could only have been hours. She came to a stop by a large oak tree with a ditch next to it. She collapsed next to the tree, pressing her back against the cold dirt, panting loudly. Starlyn soon joined her, panting nearly as loud as Charlotte. Her energy seemed to return when she ran for her life following Charlotte, but now her weakness once again showed.

  She glanced to Charlotte and grinned. “Thank you.”

  Charlotte smiled. Starlyn’s arm found its way around her in an embrace that seemed it wouldn’t end. The two of them snuggled together for many long minutes, letting weariness overcome them. A sudden sound disturbed them. Charlotte opened her eyes first. Starlyn attempted to move, but she was too weak. A calm hand rested on Starlyn’s shoulder as Charlotte rose to peer over the trunk. A sigh of relief spread across Charlotte’s face. She snuggled back against Starlyn.

  After a moment, a large beast leaped over the oak roots to the front of the ditch. Charlotte grinned. Starlyn stared forward with shock as she noticed her white tiger, Snowflake. A few cuts and scrapes stained the once-perfect pelt red, but nothing too serious for such a tiger. Leaping forward, Snowflake rushed to Starlyn, giving several big licks on her face.

  “I have missed you too, my old friend, and my heart warms now that we are together again. Thank you … thank you both. For long I feared I would be trapped forever, yet I had forgotten about the bond of friendship. It is often forgotten for those of my kind, but heed these words. I will no longer forget my friends who hold true.”

  Charlotte hugged Starlyn tighter as Snowflake lay upon Starlyn’s legs, cuddling close to her. There the three of them rested, all weary from their escape from the clutches of the Ikchani. Charlotte soon grew drowsy, but her mind lingered on the Ikchani people. She knew they did not have much time to rest. They must make haste and soon, before their trail became discovered. But for now, she closed her eyes and let the soothing darkness take her mind into a calm relaxing sleep. She had Starlyn back, finally. No longer was all hope lost.

  Chapter 37

  A cool summer breeze settled around Searon on the seventh day of their travel. They traveled fast on their way to the faerie city. Anaela wasn’t quite sure where it resided. She claimed she would know it when she saw it. Searon began to wonder if they would ever find the place. Thoughts of how faeries lived drifted through his head.

  “What is it we should be looking for?” he asked.

  “The place we are to find will be small. It will not look like a village or city of any kind. The faeries are more a part of nature than the kheshlars.”

  “Surely there must be something that defines where they live.”

  “They will be close to the ocean. Seashells are their favorite ornaments.”

  “All right, at least that is something. Seashells out of place could be an indicator.”

  “Colors. Faeries adore bright colors. There will be plenty of bright green, pink, and blues. Flowers of such colors grow near the beach.”

  “How small?”

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “How small are these creatures? The stories were never clear.”

  “They are the size of dragonflies and butterflies.”

  Searon gasped loudly, widening his eyes. “How can such little
beings help us?”

  “Faeries are magic, Searon. Kheshlars barely touch magic, afraid of its use. There are some, but our spell casters are few. There are also some humans who can wield the ability. However, faeries are the ability. The very existence of faeries is magic. Size is insignificant to pure magic. At any time they can choose to be any size they wish.”

  “Why do they choose to be small?”

  “Do not be foolish, Searon. Use that thick skull of yours. If you could choose for a single apple to barely satisfy you, or a single bite to fill you for a day, which do you choose?”

  Searon nodded.

  “It is also easier to hide.” She smiled.

  The humid weather brought sweat, which clung to Searon’s scruffy face. Heat didn’t affect Anaela in the same way. It didn’t seem to affect any kheshlars. A cool breeze brushed across them once again. The wind smelled of salt and water, making Searon lick his lips. He could hear the faint sound of seagulls chirping in the distance.

  “We are near. The ocean is likely only seven leagues away.”

  “How can you tell?” Anaela asked.

  “I can smell it.”

  Anaela flinched as she sniffed the air herself. “I smell nothing. How is it you claim to have better senses than the kheshlars?”

  “Because I do,” Searon replied.

  “That is impossible for a mere human.”

  “Well … that is your mistake. Perhaps I am not a mere human.”

  She had been about to open her mouth when her nose twitched. She stared at Searon, her eyes squinted as her head tilted.

  “You are correct. I now smell it too.”

  Searon snapped the reins of his horse Stripes, causing the animal to move from a trot to a full gallop. The wilderness blended around them in a hazy black-and-white blur as his horse sped. To anyone observing them, it would seem a mirage of stripes blending into the greens of the forest.

  Within an hour, they arrived at the ocean. Stripes slowed to a walk as Searon steered him along the beach. The beach was narrow with only thirty spans of distance between oceanfront and forest. Searon’s eyes wandered from the ocean to the forest in an attempt to find colorful flowers or shells. There was nothing. The sand covering the beach shone as white as a pearl. He had never seen a beach so beautiful.