The Obsidian Arrow

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  Searon’s advantage didn’t last, as a pincer crushed his left arm before he could slash it away. He wished he still had the throwing knife he gave Starlyn, but knew she needed it much more than he. The nacropis came at him strong, but it grew weaker from the constant arrows landing in its back from Anaela and the faeries. It pushed Searon to the ground, where he hit his head against a rock. He couldn’t move out of the way as the nacropis fell on top of him, but he shifted his claymore upward so it penetrated through a soft spot between its shells before the creature collapsed on top of him. Everything surrounding him became a blur, and he wondered if the creature’s poison had gotten to him or if the intensity of the strikes was making everything grow dark.

  Searon awoke with a splitting headache that felt like it would tear through his skull. The light surrounding him shone too bright, making him not want to open his eyes. He stayed still for a moment as his head continued to spin around him, until he could regain control of himself, and then he opened his eyes. When he did, he noticed Anaela staring at him with concern in her glistening eyes. She knelt on the ground holding a washcloth against his forehead, and small buzzing faeries circled all around her.

  “How long have I been out?” he asked, closing his eyes once more.

  “Since yesterday,” Anaela said, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

  Warmth spread through him at her gentle touch, giving his strength. “Is it dead?”

  “Yes. You killed it.”

  “I had help.” He smiled.

  She blushed. “The council is seriously considering helping us now. However, they are under the impression that the creature followed us here. They do not like the fact that their location has been revealed, and so I think they are upset with us.”

  “There is no way that creature could have followed us here. They are too large and too loud to go unnoticed from the likes of us.” Searon snorted.

  “I know, but they don’t know that. All that they see is since we’ve stayed here with them, an unknown creature has attacked their home. They want us to leave, and I think it is a good idea.”

  “Perhaps we have stayed too long. I fear for the safety of Sudegam if a few of these creatures are slipping through.”

  Anaela stood, offering her hand to Searon. He paused, reluctant to take it at first, not wanting to admit to needing help from her, wanting to be strong, but he swallowed his pride, letting her help him to his feet. They stood there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, mesmerized by the sight of each other, becoming lost in a world where everything around them seemed to disappear.

  Searon stepped forward, still holding her hands in front of him, until his face held mere inches from hers. He moved his right hand to her face, and he tenderly touched her cheek, smiling as she blushed. He tousled her hair before placing a strand behind her ear so he could better see her face. She fell into him, and he embraced her firmly, pressing his lips against hers. The faeries surrounding them broke out in a song and whistles, but neither of them cared. Everything around them seemed to turn white as they spun around in circles embracing each other. Anaela no longer tried to stop it, no longer tried to run from him, but finally accepted the feelings they shared.

  The kiss lasted for several minutes before the two of them finally broke away. Neither of them wanted to, but they knew they couldn’t stay there all day, despite how good it felt. Searon stood still for a moment as his emotions got the better of him. He stared at Anaela’s gorgeous face. He knew there was no other place he would rather be. The past few years were a blur without a purpose for his life. When he met Anaela, he knew something had changed, but he wasn’t quite sure what at the time. Everything seemed to be falling into place after their first passionate kiss, especially now that she no longer tried to fight her feelings.

  He didn’t want to think of anything else but her, but something kept surfacing to the front of his thoughts. How did the scorpion find its way all the way south, past the defenses of Sudegam unnoticed, and happen to find Searon and Anaela? It didn’t seem logical that the creature could have such excellent tracking skills; even a kheshlar would have had a hard time tracking Searon and Anaela with the path they’d traveled. He was careful not to leave any sign of travel, and Stripes was an excellent horse, not stepping into the ground too hard. The stallion’s footsteps were light and quick, more so than those of any other horse Searon had known.

  “The nacropis couldn’t have followed us. It isn’t that intelligent, or that stealthy,” Searon said.

  “It doesn’t seem likely … but what else could explain how it found us?” Anaela asked.

  “Arria,” Searon said.

  “Arria …” she whispered, widening her eyes. “She knows we’re here.”

  “She must have followed us. Only she could be stealthy enough to pull it off. The only problem is … if she knows where we are …”

  “Our friends may be in danger,” Anaela whispered.

  “Sudegam,” they said together.

  Searon turned around, whistling into the wind, calling out to his stallion, who came galloping at his call. He nodded to Anaela, who was already gathering her things, her bottom lip trembling. The stripes on his horse gleamed in the sunlight, making the lines of black and white beautiful against the shadow of the forest. Searon secured the saddle and hopped on, followed by Anaela.

  A faerie flew over to Searon. “Where are you going? Do you not still wish the help of the faeries?”

  “I wish for your help, but I no longer have the time for your games. The kheshlarn capital is in danger, my friends are in danger,” Searon said.

  He pushed his hand up Stripes’s neck to loosen the reins, prompting Stripes to gallop into the forest. Searon pushed Stripes as fast as he dared, showing the horse the importance of their task. Anaela held tight to Searon’s waist, a security measure that kept a smile on his face, despite the distress of their situation.

  Chapter 45

  Scrolls were scattered across Noraes’s desk. His hand ached from writing with his quill, and yet, he was still far from finished. The candlelight glowed dim by his side, yet enough light illuminated his scrolls to continue on. Many scrolls needed to be drafted, and it felt like it would take him all night to complete them all. Noraes wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it. For many nights, he hadn’t been able to sleep through the night, nor had he been able to hit his pillow at a decent hour. There were so many things to do now since the king was dead. A week had passed since the demise of the great lord, and the work hadn’t stopped in the slightest.

  He’d known he was one of the top three choices for king, and yet he hadn’t known the decision would come so swiftly. His mind still couldn’t comprehend the fact he had been chosen over Baron Gorred—or Earl Thomlyn, who had practically been the king’s right-hand man. As the king’s nephew, Constable Eryen would have become the king had he not gone missing three years prior, disappearing with an exotic princess never to be seen again. Scrolls seemed to come to Noraes with no end, and he had to choose this or that, with never a moment of rest in sight. Noraes needed to appoint a duke in his place. He also needed to appoint a council and a captain. There were to be no issues between the old king’s rule and the new, and so to make certain everything would be in compliance, all orders had to be reviewed and re-signed. Noraes’s eyes felt burned out of their sockets with the reading, writing, and signing he had to do.

  Some of the old orders he had changed and stamped, in order for his council to take a look at and agree to the changed aspects. His hands felt numb, his eyes blistered, his neck stiff, and his mind near insane. He hadn’t dared move his things over to the castle yet, for he wanted everything in order before he made the transition. Besides, he wanted to head into the city to greet the people with his presence before being admitted into power. Secretly, he had always wanted to rule—he’d craved a position of leadership. He wanted to be a just, kind, and compassionate king if at all possible. When the scroll announcing him king had been de
livered, it came with ten guards to protect him, which he hastily sent away to protect for his privacy. There was no way he would be able to focus on all the scroll-work he needed to do with ten guards breathing about him at all times.

  He finished the last scroll on his table, a scroll asking permission to form an alliance with the cities to the north of Calthoria against the evil creatures of the land. If there was one thing Noraes craved, it was no wars between humans. There was too much happening in the land for a few power-starving men to start a rebellion. When he finished, he dropped the quill, creating a small round ink stain on his cherry wood desk. He pushed his medium length dirty blond hair away from his eyes before sighing heavily. He stretched his arms as high as he could reach them.

  A knock at the door startled him. He spun to stare at the door. Nobody would come to his door this time of night, unless it was assassins or a message that couldn’t wait. He waited patiently as he stared at the door, feeling for the dagger hidden inside his blue satin cloak. The last important message that should have come was the death of the king, unless of course the people were revolting against him becoming king. Noraes got to his feet carefully before striding to the door. He held his hand on the doorknob for a long moment before sucking in his breath and opening the door.

  Outside it stormed. Rain poured like a stampede of antelope through an open pasture, lightning burst through the sky like a cloud of flickering fireflies, thunder forcefully beckoned all around him. In the center of all the chaos stood a woman in plate mail, holding herself up with her hands clasped to the doorframe, blonde hair drenched in rain that cascaded down her petite frame.

  “Starlyn?” he asked, his head tilting.

  “Noraes,” she said feebly with a smile.

  “Please come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  Starlyn stepped inside, welcoming the warmth of the woodstove, but shivering nonetheless. Noraes disappeared for a moment to return with a blue towel to drape over her. He helped her dry her hair and armor before she took it off one piece at a time to set next to her hammer. She stayed in her under armor, thick brown leather cushioning her, before grabbing a blanket to cocoon it around herself.

  “You don’t look so well; can I get you some soup?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  He turned away from her, beginning to chop vegetables for a small pot, making only enough to please her because he wasn’t hungry. Still, he remembered to only put vegetables in hers, unlike one he would have made for himself. While he didn’t mind a vegetarian diet, he still rather enjoyed his meat. Potatoes, carrots, and celery were the majority of the vegetables he could find for the soup. He set the pot on the fire.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  She looked pale, paler than a kheshlar usually should, and he grew concerned for her well-being. He wondered what brought her so far away from the battle, especially by herself without Searon, or at least the company of guards. Her figure looked diminutive, even for a kheshlar, and it distressed him. She scrunched her fingers, barely noticing him as she clenched her teeth in pain.

  “Starlyn?” he asked. “Are you ill?”

  She looked up. “I do not have much time, I’m afraid. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do …”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m here.”

  Noraes stepped close to her to embrace her in a hug, one so warm and welcoming that she hugged him tightly back, exposing what remained of her kheshlarn strength. The gesture hurt him slightly, but he dared not say a word, comforted by her touch. He wanted her to talk, to divulge what reason she had for showing up at his keep, but he dared not ask. She needed affection and time before she would tell him anything, and he could see that.

  The soup began boiling. He reluctantly stepped away from her warm embrace. He moved over to the pot to check the vegetables, making sure they were thoroughly cooked. When he was satisfied, he put a helping into a bowl to set in front of Starlyn. She barely let it reach her before devouring it with hunger. Noraes raised an eyebrow. He wondered how long it had been since she had a proper meal. Traveling, with only human villages and cities to stop in, couldn’t have been pleasant for a kheshlar.

  Starlyn appeared dazed as she finished the soup. She swayed back and forth in her seat. Noraes walked around the table to slide a chair by her side to hold her steady. She leaned her head on his shoulder, clutching at her stomach, whimpering in agony. He held her other hand tight, worry blatantly on his face.

  “Are you all right, Starlyn?” he asked. “You don’t seem so well, did you eat too much?”

  She turned to face him, tears trickling along her face, sorrow in her deep blue eyes, and need on her lips. Her hand brushed against his cheek, where it lingered for a moment, before dropping back to her side.

  She closed her eyes, letting the pain overcome her. When she opened them, her glare bore deep into his soul. “I’m expecting.”

  Noraes pondered her words for a few minutes before they sank in and his heart caved. He tried to swallow, but the lump in his neck seemed stuck between breaths. Sweat glazed his brow as his eyes widened, and yet, still, speech would not come. Minutes passed, feeling like hours, but neither moved the slightest. He still remembered the time he shared with the kheshlar when she and his brother had come to visit, and yet it felt like so long ago. His eyes wavered from her eyes to her stomach, where her hands clutched tight. Her gaze didn’t follow his. She continued to stare at his expression, as white as a ghost.

  The time Noraes spent with her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Even though it was only a short while, he’d developed feelings for the kheshlar he had never expected, feelings he knew he would never be able to feel for anyone else. In his mind, she had been the one, the one he was supposed to be with. Back then, the timing was off: she had a war to fight, a sister to find, and he had matters to attend to as the duke of Legain. He didn’t suppose the time had gotten any better for the two of them: Searon was still off fighting a war somewhere, Noraes was now the king, and Starlyn had wandered back into his realm with the most unexpected news he could have received.

  “You are with child?” He asked the obvious question.

  “Yes.”

  “And it is …”

  “It is yours. I have only been with you, Noraes. When I first met your brother, I kissed him, intrigued by the race of humans, and vulnerable. But I have only lain with you. I grow weaker with each passing day, and I am not sure if I will be able to survive this,” Starlyn said.

  Noraes blinked, then blinked again, staring at her, dumbfounded. “Kheshlars do not grow weak.”

  “Not with kheshlarn children. Never have I known a kheshlar to bear a human child, and I’m not sure if it is even possible. It is killing me, Noraes. I have nowhere else to go, nobody else to ask. You are the father, and you deserve to know. If you do not wish for this burden, all you have to do is say the word, and I will leave,” she said.

  “Burden?” Noraes asked in a hoarse whisper.

  His world seemed to be spinning all around him and he felt dizzy, dizzier than if he’d emptied an entire barrel of whiskey by himself. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, but he felt sick and got to his feet. With his first step he nearly stumbled and had to grab hold of the table to steady himself. Starlyn got to her feet to hold him stable, appearing more worried about him than herself. He stared at her open-mouthed as he saw two of her in front of him. When the two shapes finally stopped shifting and he could only see one of her, he grabbed her shoulders. Tears plunged from her eyes, twisting her face into a tormented expression.

  Starlyn appeared devastated, her lips parted and eyes unfocused, horror-struck by the simple reaction of Noraes. She seemed terrified by his silence, and her entire body shivered uncontrollably. Noraes noticed when reality came back to him; he stepped closer to her, dragging her into his arms. He held her tight, stroking her long blonde locks through his fingers. His fingers found her chin, lifting
it so he could gaze into her dazzling blue eyes. Her knees buckled under her as he pulled her to him for a kiss. All of his desire, all of his passion that he hid away for her after all those months, came crashing back through him, and into the kiss he pressed hard against her lips.

  Chapter 46

  The air surrounded Searon, thick and damp, making it uncomfortable to breathe, feeling deathly silent as they galloped toward Sudegam. Searon held the reins loosely while Anaela kept her arms around his chest as they rode. If he hadn’t been so worried about what would become of his friends and allies in the kheshlarn capital, he might have taken warmth at her touch. She’d finally given in to her desire, and now they had to leave, or else all of Sudegam might suffer because they weren’t present to defend it. He desperately hoped his friends were all right, as he didn’t know how he would feel if he’d abandoned them to their destruction.

  Searon tried to push such thoughts away to concentrate on his task at hand. Yet the task was made difficult by Anaela’s soft hands grazing his chest. He bit his lip as he tried to focus, guiding his stallion forward. Trees passed him by swiftly on each side, before disappearing into oblivion. The ocean was leagues behind them now, a day at Stripes’s full gallop, which would make nearly two for a normal horse, and yet they were still far from Sudegam. Stripes was the fastest horse Searon had ever come across, and even Anaela had been impressed with the velocity of the animal.

  A chill breeze swept across the air, bringing shivers to Searon’s spine. Winter fast approached, yet Searon didn’t think that was the reason for the chill. Even Stripes was caught aback, the great stallion’s pace slowing from a full gallop to a trot. An eerie darkness surrounded them, even though evening was still hours from approaching. The stallion came to an abrupt stop, and it neighed loudly before stepping backward at a frightening pace.