“Marcues and Jon, I want you to go ahead and see if you can catch a trial on them before those bastards disappear,” Fadine commanded to the two guards closest to her. “Nyah and Caro, head back to the elks and prepare for the journey back.”
At the mention of Nyah’s name I spotted her in the group. Her eyes burned into me from across the crowd. She mouthed something to me, but I couldn’t make it out from where I was. She gave me a quick smile and disappeared back in the direction they had come from.
“The rest of you. Station yourselves around Prince Hadrian. I want you each to keep your eyes and ears on the horizon. If they tried to kill him once, they will do it again.”
Hadrian was pulled from me, the guards surrounding him. I stayed rooted to the spot as I watched them leave. Fadine whispered something to Illera who at first shook her head. But Fadine’s voice rose, pissed at Illera’s refusal. Illera looked my way and I heard her sigh as she walked to me.
“Get up, hero,” she said, extending a hand to me.
I reached for it and she yanked me up.
“Thank you,” I said, aware of just how difficult this was for her.
She didn’t respond, nor utter another word when she walked off towards the group.
***
THERE WAS NO sign Hadrian’s fire had ever graced the forest. The trees were unmarked and the ground still fresh. I hung back, Illera walking ahead, confused at the lack of evidence.
The broken arrow that had been pulled from my side had been discarded to the ground. I looked around for the rest, noticing them scattered all around me.
I was relieved when I saw that my bow was still in one piece. I picked it up from where I’d dropped it, brushing off the dirt. I placed it back in the holder on my back until the click sounded. I collected the fallen arrows and left. The ominous feeling of being watched no longer hung in the forest. I knew the Morthi had left.
It didn’t take me long to walk back through the forest. And as I did so, I studied the ground, noticing the imprints from mine and Hadrian’s feet. I used that to navigate back to the village. There was a dull throb in my stomach. I rubbed at the healed cut but knew the pain was from my exhausted magick. I’d never used that much power, nor lost control. It scared me, how fast I’d lost myself. I called for it within me, yet it lay still and weak.
When I saw the light peak through at the end of the forest ahead, I picked up my pace to a jog. I caught something in the corner of my eye. I stopped just before the clearing and turned my attention to the object that stuck out from a tree.
The arrow.
I moved for it. I’d never seen a Morthi arrow before and I was surprised to see how similar it was to the arrows strapped to my back. The only difference was the muted grey feathers, perfect to ensure the arrows accuracy. I ran my finger down the shaft, feeling remnants of my power that still clung to the wood. My finger dipped into the red blood lacing the shaft. A piece of skin jammed beneath the arrow and the blood that coated it.
The red blood.
My heart sank and my mind whirled. I’d seen enough of the Morthi blood to know it was black. I’d dreamt of the rivers of obsidian blood oozing across marbled floors since seeing the Morthi elf on my first night in Olderim. I knew well enough that what I was seeing went against everything I’d believed.
The ambushers were not Morthi.
I had the urge to shout it, but there was no one around. I had to think quickly. I ripped a piece of material from my shirt, and yanked the arrow from the tree. I pinched the skin, fighting the urge to gag whilst I pulled it from the arrow. As soon as it was free I wrapped it in the material and stuffed it into my fist.
I needed proof, needed something to show Hadrian that it was not the Morthi that had shot the arrow.
Only Niraen elves bleed red.
THE NIGHT HAD come to lay its heavy blanket across Thessolina. The cavalry rode south back to Olderim and what had been endless fields and hills was swallowed by the night.
Up ahead, decorative lanterns hung from iron polls held by the guards, illuminating the cavalry and the pathway around them. I lost myself in the dancing reds of the hanging fire thinking about Hadrian. It was all my mind could focus on, that and the bloodied material in my pocket.
I’d looked behind me more times than I cared to count, checking for gleaming eyes in the distance or signs that we were being followed. But now that I knew the truth behind the attackers, I couldn’t help but think they could be around all us, hiding in plain view amongst the group.
The sound of the shifters wings relaxed my worry. I kept my claws out though, and my hand on the hilt of my sword just in case. My magick was still exhausted, even hours after the incident in the forest. I kept reaching for it, hoping to feel its urgent movements. But it remained still.
Hadrian stayed up ahead, surrounded by a moving circle of guards who kept him within their formation. I’d been given a spare elk to ride when we left.
Hadrian was to be kept guarded and separated. I didn’t try to join him, nor did he request my presence. He just kept ahead, his face trained to the darkness before him, not once turning back to look at me.
I was drained. The rhythmic pound of the elk’s hooves soothed me, but every time I closed my eyes, I felt the heavy weight of the cloth in my pocket. The skin’s presence warmed against my leg and I was certain the blood had seeped through the material and onto my skin.
I lost myself in the memories, fighting to stay awake the rest of the way back.
***
IT WAS EARLY morning when we finally gained on Olderim. Fadine commanded a shifter to fly ahead and warn the palace to prepare for our arrival, it was the swan shifter who was chosen for the task.
There was not much talk between the cavalry whilst we pulled up to the outer walls of the city. No one had slept the entire journey back, but I could see from their faces that they were as exhausted as I was.
The streets of Olderim were empty. It seemed like the last part of the journey dragged the most. The shadow of the palace in the distance a haunting reminder of my urgency to speak with Hadrian.
When we arrived, countless guards rushed from the palace the moment we passed over the bridge to Vulmar. The courtyard beyond the door filled up fast and before I could jump down from my elk, Hadrian was guided from his and taken inside. I wanted to shout for him, to tell him to stop. Seeing him disappear into the palace caused the latent panic to build once more within me.
I slipped from my elk’s back. My legs were numb from the journey; they almost gave way under me as I connected with the ground for the first time in hours.
I turned back to face my elk and ran a hand down its wiry fur. It huffed in pleasure, a cloud of mist bursting from his nose, its wide grey eyes looked straight into mine. “Thanks for bringing me back.” I pressed my forehead to his, thanking him.