“I know it’s you, Ace,” I shout through clenched teeth. I hear haughty laughter grow louder as he makes his way towards me. Taking a deep breath, I stand to my feet, shaking with disgust and rage as I prepare myself to be surrounded by sickly Paedyns.
But the pleading stops and the Paedyns vanish, leaving only Ace standing before me. His gaze drops to the arrow pointed at his chest before traveling back to mine. He has the audacity to smirk.
“Hello, Paedyn.” His voice is smug as he quirks an eyebrow. “Did you enjoy catching up with your younger self?”
“You’re sick,” I spit, pulling my bowstring taut.
He sighs, already bored with our conversation. Sticking his nose in the air, he says, “Just let me take your band and I’ll be on my way.” A pause. “In fact, I’ll even let you take it off yourself, so I don’t cut you.”
“How generous.” I’m practically growling at him. “But I’ll pass on the offer.” My teeth are bared, and I’m a flinch away from sending an arrow flying towards that black heart of his.
He blinks at me, slicking his brown hair back from his face with an irritated huff. “Fine.” His eyes darken. “Have it your way. I don’t mind having to get messy.”
And then he’s striding towards me, reaching for my arm. I don’t hesitate before firing my arrow into his thigh, aiming to injure and not to kill. I refuse to give the king and the people what they desire: death.
Except, the arrow never meets skin, never sinks into flesh. It flies right through him. The illusion blows away like smoke on the wind, tempting me to scream in frustration.
Another Ace steps out from behind a tree a few feet away, leaves crunching under his feet as he claps slowly. “Wow. Good try.” He grips a sharp spear in his hand, smiling like a cat.
“Quit hiding behind your illusions, you coward!” I’m fuming, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
This one is the real Ace, I’m certain of it. The leaves gave him away, crunching when he stepped on them, unlike the first time he walked over to me. He seems to sense that I figured it out, and right as I’m about to bury an arrow in him, he surrounds himself with a dozen duplicates, hiding within them.
They all speak in unison as they begin to surround me, masking the sound of any crunching leaves. “If you give me the band now, I won’t hurt you. Badly.” They laugh and it’s a sickening sound, seeming to bounce around in my skull.
I spin in a circle, not knowing who to aim for. I only have six arrows now, and I can’t afford to waste a single one. They are closing in on me, closing in for the kill.
Find the real Ace.
Easier said than done. They all look and move exactly the same, all holding spears and ready to stab me, though only the real one can do any damage.
“I’m going to enjoy this, Paedyn,” they say, smiling.
My eyes flick over each of their bodies. I take in their identical stances, their identical facial expressions, their identical everything.
I will not die. I will not die. I will not die.
And then my eyes snag on a particular Ace, identical to the others.
Found you.
The tiny bead of sweat trickling down the side of his temple is all it takes to give him away, the only sign of his struggle to cast the illusions.
I raise my bow towards him at the exact moment he lunges towards me. I jump to the side, but not before pain irrupts across my stomach. Searing, stinging pain that I ignore as I release my arrow, letting it fly straight into the flesh of his leg.
He screams, dropping to his knees in the dirt, hands trembling as they wrap around the arrow protruding from his thigh. But I don’t give him, or the Sight now watching, a second glance before I spin and sprint.
I don’t know how far I’ve made it. Don’t know how much distance I’ve put between us before the adrenaline bleeds from my body, reminding me that I’m bleeding. The searing pain is back, punching me so hard in the gut that I’m panting.
I lift my loose shirt to reveal the silky tank beneath it, now sopped with blood. I take a deep breath and pull up the layer of cloth separating me from the wound before shuddering at the sight of it. A long, bloody gash slices open the skin right beneath my rib.
A spear wound.
My breaths come in shaky, shallow pants.
At least I’m alive.
But I sure as hell don’t feel alive. It’s excruciating. The pain is biting and blazing, setting my nerves on fire. I gingerly pull off the large shirt, wincing and choking back cries of pain with every lift of my right arm. The movement pulls at the skin, the gash, causing it to gush even more blood.
I rip the bottom hem of the shirt, creating a wide strip of white fabric. I work as swiftly as the injury will allow me, gingerly wrapping the cloth around my waist and over the wound. I gasp for air at the throbbing pain this causes, blinking away tears as I pull on what is left of the shirt, so large it still covers my stomach.
I need to find water.
I heave a shaky sigh, that action alone jolting a sharp pain through me as I begin walking again through the forest.
No, stumbling is more like it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paedyn
Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. My traitorous eyelids feel like lead. With each blink, I’m afraid they won’t open again. I’ve been slowly stumbling through the shadowy forest towards the creek for what feels like hours, blindly hoping I’m still headed in the right direction.
I’m tired. So very tired. I want nothing more than to slump against a tree and close my eyes for a minute. Just one blissful moment of peace—
No.
I pinch my arm, hard, causing my drooping eyelids to fly open.
If I fall asleep, I likely won’t wake back up.
I’m in bad shape, and I don’t need to be the daughter of a Healer to realize it. I’ve lost so much blood, making my head swim as I try to keep my footing. I shake my head, trying to ignore my fevered skin and shivering body. Just like I ignore that the strip of cloth I used as a bandage is already soaked with blood, staining the cotton scarlet.
I need to clean the wound and soon. If I don’t, I’m as good as dead.
What I need is water.
Every part of me burns. Burns with pain and thirst and hunger. If I can just get to some water, I can wash out the wound at the very least, cure my dehydration, and come to my senses long enough to create a concoction of herbs to clean the injury.
I hope.
Then I’d worry about eating, seeing that I can barely pull back my bowstring, and the rabbit I shot is long forgotten at the site where Ace ambushed me.
Leaving me defenseless and starving.
Get to the creek. Get to the creek. Get to the creek.
A faint, orange glow peeks through the trees ahead of me, blurry from my drooping eyes. I squint at it, unsure if I’m hallucinating or not. I tighten my sweaty grip on the bow, already knocked with an arrow, though it’s practically useless if I can’t pull back the damn string to fire it. I continue to creep closer to the fire flickering a few dozen yards away, completely unattended.
The light it casts reflects off something shimmering beside it.