I feel the thwack before I see the arrow embedded in Aspen’s neck.
The horse screams, rearing back so quickly that Enat and I tumble to the forest floor. I shake off the blow and scramble to my feet. Aspen advances a few steps, flailing her head side to side as she lets out a horrible cry.
I rush to Enat’s side to pull her up when I see her bow is snapped in two, the pieces sticking awkwardly out of a low shrub. Scattered along the ground among the crush of fallen leaves are two arrows.
My arrows!
I reach for my quiver and notice my bow is missing.
I scramble through the leaves, grabbing up arrows while searching. The guards surround us, with the captain being the first to dismount.
Where is my bow?
Aspen has fallen a dozen paces away, and though she’s not dead yet, her blood loss is a pool of black, staining the rocks and dirt. My bow! It’s attached to the saddle.
“I should kill you here and now,” Captain Omar says. He’s behind me. The other two guards are at the sides of the clearing.
“Go now!” Enat yells.
I bolt forward, arms pumping, to move me faster to my weapon. Vaguely, I catch the shouts of the other men, but my focus blocks out the details of their words. A ring of steel echoes behind me just as my fingers find purchase on my bow.
I spin back to face the guards with an arrow notched, feathers softly brushing my fingertips. Only, the scene doesn’t make sense.
Omar’s bow is pointed in my direction, though his attention is on Tomas. The weasel guard has his sword drawn against Enat. Everything seems to slow like it did the night of the rainstorm. Leif rushes in my direction. For a split second, my attention diverts to him—?and that’s when I hear the cut.
Blade against skin. A short gurgling gasp.
“NO!” I rage, the scene slamming into me in regular time. My arrow is slicing the distance before I even realize what’s been done, flying true to nail Tomas between his shoulders. For the first time in my life, I’ve aimed and shot at a man to take his life. The guard tips to the side and falls next to Enat, who is somehow still standing.
Her eyes roll, showing an unnatural amount of white. A terrible bubbling echoes out of her throat. I sprint to her side, not caring what the other men in the forest are yelling, and wrap my arms around her body to lower her to the ground. I cover her neck with my hand, pressing, frantically trying to focus on her remaining energy.
It’s not too late. It’s not.
Her energy whispers beneath my hand, ripples on an otherwise still mountain lake, fading fast. I pinch my eyes shut, demanding the panic to settle so I can focus as I start to push my energy into her. Just like after the lightning storm.
The touch of her hand on mine . . . oh mercy. Her bloody, bloody hand has me snapping my eyes wide open. “No,” she mouths.
And I know what she’s telling me, but I cannot—?no, I will not—?accept the command. “No,” she mouths again, fainter this time. “Find . . .” A gurgle. “Her . . .”
I don’t understand what she’s saying. Find her? Perhaps the Spiriter? Maybe it’s the madness of pain that’s causing her to speak nonsense.
“Let me do this,” I plead. My eyes sting. My throat aches. “I can make everything right. You were never supposed to get hurt. I—?I never wanted anything to happen to you.”
Enat has moments left. My voice breaks as hot tears run down my nose and stain her beautiful wrinkled cheeks.
“Please. Please let me help you.”
The tiniest movement of her head shows her disagreement.
“No, Enat!” A sob crawls out of my chest. “You’re all I have left.”
Her free hand lifts, ever so slowly, swaying until landing on my face. It’s a miracle she can move at all. Her energy is but the last clinging seed on a cottony dandelion. I want to tell her not to move. To hold still. But her lips part, and I can see she’s trying to say something, so I am motionless for the both of us, my heart blackening and breaking and crumbling inside me.
Pain and regret swell in her cerulean eyes.
Her lips make a weak movement. “Love . . . you.”
“I love you,” I say, frantic for her to hear me as a final breath escapes and her stained hand falls to the ground.
“No!” A keening, high-pitched and tormented, resonates from deep within me as I clutch her body to mine. The color of her skin turns ashen, and her lips pale to white. The life force that once made her vibrant is gone, and in my arms is the husk of my grandmother.
“No, no, no, no . . .”
Captain Omar’s bow lies at his side as he watches us. Red, red, red, covers me because of him. I hate him. He took my father’s life and has now assisted in stealing Enat’s. The anger and pain inside me morph into something blackish and terrible that makes me want to slay more than just one man today.
I seize Enat’s sword and lurch to my feet in the blink of an eye.