Broken (42 page)

“See, I told you. I only want to ride you for a while. Think you can handle that?” She stepped to his side and brushed her hand down his neck and shoulder. As she ran her fingers through his long mane his head swung around behind her and rubbed against her back. His sudden trust in her reminded her of the cubs and their mama. Perhaps she had gained another gift from this place.

Kira took both reins, pulled them to the saddle and, standing on the tip of her toes, reached to wrap them firmly around the horn. “Okay, Althros. Let’s show them how this is done,” she whispered as she stretched her leg up to put one foot in the stirrup.

He raised his head as if to protest, shifting a step to the side. She quickly propelled herself up into the saddle and grabbed onto the reins. She tightened her legs around his sides, half expecting him to rear up and toss her on her butt, but he didn’t. She reached down and stroked his neck and mane.

“Good boy.”

Kira turned to find the two men as frozen as statues. Their mouths hung open so wide, she could have stuck her whole fist into them. The boy stood beside them, grinning from ear to ear. She adjusted herself to sit comfortably in the saddle, but now that she was on the horse, she realized she couldn’t reach the stirrups.

“Could I get a little help here?” she asked.

While she kept Althros calm by stroking his neck, the men quickly adjusted the stirrups. They’d barely stepped out of the way when the little boy came from inside the stable doors holding Kira’s bow and quiver. A moment of fear ran through her as she thought of the poison covering the tips, praying he wouldn’t stumble and drive one through his skin. She reached down and took them from him, strapped the quiver to her back and threw the bow over her head and shoulder.

“Your silence will save your lives,” she warned. Then she nudged Althros in the sides and he sprang into a gallop. The heavy sound of his hooves pounding the wooden bridge echoed against the outer walls of the castle.

Riding through the village, she gave little notice to the people jumping out of her way. She needed to get to Pride Meadow as fast as she could and didn’t have time to slow her stride. At least, since her ride the day before with Octavion, she knew the way.

By the time she cleared the main gate, she felt as though she and Althros were one. She followed the dirt road up the hill behind the castle and through a thick stand of trees leading to the area where they’d eaten their meal. She continued toward the fallen tree, being careful to stay close to the base of the mountain to take advantage of the tall pine trees. Their sturdy branches would give her the cover she would need when the time came to take her shot.

The thought of it sent a shiver through her. Althros tensed as well, slowing his gallop and throwing his head to the side. Could he really sense what she felt?

When the fallen log came into view, she pulled Althros to a stop, threw her leg over his head and slid to the ground. She led him deep into the trees and behind an outcropping of large boulders, tying his reins to the trunk of a small tree. She stroked his head one more time and turned, but then she reconsidered his restraint. If Shandira killed her, who knows how long he’d be tied up before someone found him. She quickly released him, letting the reins drop to the ground. She remembered what Octavion said about having pets and she thought it fit in this situation. If she was truly connected with him and he wanted to stay, he would.

She took a deep breath and continued on foot, carefully stepping so she made the least amount of noise possible. If Shandira was already here, Kira wanted to get as close as she could before alerting her. As she walked, she readied her bow—notching a poisonous arrow and pulling the string taut. She searched the meadow, but found no sign of Shandira.

Kira located the perfect spot to hide—a large tree had fallen onto a rock, splitting it in two and giving her perfect cover. She crouched in the shadows to wait.

She slipped her hand into her healing pack and took out the heart pendent. This time she held it firmly in her hand. She let the faces of those she loved flash through her mind. Their spirits seemed to be with her as she dug deep to find the courage she needed to carry this out. She would need their strength to survive.

Kira closed her eyes and rubbed her thumb across the stone.

Shandira. I’m all yours.

Aw. You are early. Are you alone, as I requested?

Yeah, let’s finish this.

Kira slipped the pendent back in her bag, drew back her bow and waited. When Kira felt Shandira’s dark spirit warn of her presence, she felt a pull on her lungs and she struggled to breathe. She quickly stood and spun around to find Shandira standing behind her, two curved-blade weapons gripped tightly in her fists.

The distance between them was barely enough to pull her weapon to her shoulder and release the arrow. When she did, Shandira raised her hand, deflecting the arrowhead with her blade. It missed piercing her heart, but as it sailed past her shoulder, it cut the fabric of her shirt and grazed her flesh.

Shandira grinned. “Perhaps you need lessons in fighting a Royal.”

Kira dropped her bow and slid her dagger out of its sheath, putting it up between them. “Last I heard you’d been stripped of your crown.”

Shandira laughed. “It got in my way. I much prefer being a rebel.”

“It suits you.” Kira wasn’t about to let her intimidate her. Shandira’s constant need to team up with ruthless monsters so she wouldn’t have to get her hands dirty told Kira one thing—she was a coward. “Well, don’t just stand there, bring it on . . .
princess
.”

Shandira’s smile faded to a scowl as she leapt forward, swinging her blades. If she hadn’t caught Kira’s arm as she jumped out of Shandira’s way, Kira might have laughed. Instead she struck back, cutting Shandira’s hand and making her drop one of her blades. She stopped long enough to fire an insult; then her eyes shifted to the wound on Kira’s arm which healed as she watched. Kira assumed the increased adrenaline flowing through her body—and perhaps the power of Octavion’s world, itself—allowed the Crystor to do things it never had before. She found herself aware of every leaf that moved, the flutter of bird wings in the trees nearby—and each labored breath Shandira took. The poison was starting to work.

Shandira’s brow furrowed as she stumbled back against a tree and put her bleeding hand to her heart. She blinked hard and shook her head. Then she looked at the small wound on her arm where the arrow had cut into her skin. “What did you do to me?”

“Doesn’t feel all that great to be poisoned, does it?”

Rage filled Shandira’s eyes as she began her transformation. Her brown eyes turned yellow as she hunched over, taking the stance of an animal ready to attack. She let out a ferocious roar, exposing her feline teeth, then leapt into the air, taking Kira to the ground. Kira’s back struck the edge of the fallen tree, knocking the breath from her lungs and causing her arrows to scatter. She shoved Shandira away, threw off her quiver and stood.

Shandira was still on the ground, struggling to stand, when Kira kicked her in the side with her boot. Shandira rolled over to her back. An eerie sensation swirled around Kira and for the first time, she felt a Royal preparing to leap. Kira threw herself to the ground and grabbed hold of Shandira’s pant leg a split second before she leapt.

Kira didn’t know if it was the poison or the unexpected passenger that drained the so-called princess, but when they landed near the stream, Shandira collapsed to the ground. Kira pulled herself to her knees, threw her leg over Shandira’s body and straddled her hips.

“Get off me,” Shandira screamed. She took a swing at Kira’s face with her curved blade, driving it into the side of the tree. Shandira tried to pull it out, but she didn’t have the strength. She slid her hand out from around the hilt just as Kira drove her own knife into Shandira’s chest. Air rushed out of her lungs and her body went limp.

Kira felt the beat of Shandira’s heart through the handle of the knife as her pulse became sluggish and her breathing slowed. It was finally over. Nobody would ever be afraid of Shandira again.

Shandira opened her eyes, now back to a chocolate brown, and for the first time, Kira saw something innocent in Shandira’s gaze—sorrow and desperation gave her the look of a scared little girl. Kira sat back and let go of the knife. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for her enemy and she certainly didn’t expect Shandira to show any sign of remorse for the things she’d done. But that’s exactly what happened.

With what little strength Shandira had left, she reached for Kira’s arm. “You were a worthy opponent. I misjudged you.” She swallowed hard and tried to take in a breath, but it caught in her throat and she coughed up a stream of blood. “Tell my father . . . I love him . . . and I am sorry.”

Kira didn’t answer at first. The change in Shandira’s demeanor had caught her off guard. She wanted to hate her and be glad she’d finally been defeated, but Shandira’s words touched her heart and the sincerity Kira saw in her eyes melted some of the hatred away. “I will,” she finally whispered.

Shandira closed her eyes and tears flowed down her face. When she opened them again, they held more urgency.

Her weak voice was harder to understand. “They will come for you. Tyrious will not . . . stop. He will . . . attack . . . Xantara.” She seemed confused and disoriented. She took one last short breath and said the words that would change Kira’s life forever.

“If . . . you live, they . . . die.” She closed her eyes and breathed no more.

The meadow fell eerily silent. Kira could hear the cadence of her own heart as the blood rushed through her veins. She’d killed Shandira. That single act of retribution should have given her some comfort, but it didn’t. Shandira’s final words had changed Kira’s perception, and she couldn’t hate her anymore. Regardless of what she’d done, she was the daughter of the King of Xantara and deserved some respect.

Kira gripped the hilt of her knife and slowly pulled it from Shandira’s body. She went to the water, but as she washed the blood from her knife and hands, her body began to tremble. Visions of all the injuries she’d healed flashed through her mind as she healed their wounds: Luka with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder; Octavion covered in blood with a deep cut in his leg; Cade with a knife sticking out of his back, struggling to save her life; and Altaria, risking her life to save hers. Their blood was on Kira’s hands. Their very lives were now in her trembling blood-soaked hands.

A deafening scream rang out through the meadow. It took several seconds for Kira to realize it came from her. She slid her knife back in its sheath and tried to calm the spasms as adrenaline flowed through her exhausted body. The vivid images kept bouncing around in her head, sending her hopelessly into madness. She had to gain some control. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she let it out, the images slowed. Another breath—then another. Finally, she could push the memories away.

Kira turned to look over her shoulder at Shandira’s lifeless body covered with blood, her hair and clothes askew. Someone would come for her and take her back to her father. For him, the least she could do is make her presentable—but it would never erase what Kira had done.

Since her shirt was already cut by Shandira’s blade, Kira tore off the sleeve and soaked it in the stream. When she returned to Shandira’s side, an overwhelming sensation of calm surrounded her. Her hands grew steady and her pulse slowed.

Kira gathered Shandira’s long black hair to one side of her head, taking extra care to brush the leaves and grass away. She washed the blood from her mouth and a small streak along the side of her neck. Kira retrieved the heart pendent from her pack and placed it in the palm of Shandira’s hand, closing her fingers around it. She laid her hand over her chest wound—across her heart.

The long shadows Shandira so poetically spoke of in her note, stretched across the meadow. It wouldn’t be long before it was too dark for Kira to find her way back to the castle. As she stood, she heard something moving in the trees.
Althros.
His brilliant white coat stood out in stark contrast to the darkness of the forest. He watched her, waiting to take her home.

Kira carefully returned her unused arrows to her quiver and slung it along with her bow over her shoulder. She sat on the fallen log, Shandira’s last words echoing through her mind.

If you live, they die.

In her heart she knew Shandira’s words were true, but she couldn’t help thinking she was wrong. She had to be. After all, Shandira didn’t know about the meeting with King Tyrious. If Octavion was able to convince him that Kira’s death would not heal his heart, then everyone would be safe. She needed to have faith it would all work out.

Althros grazed a few feet away, struggling to chew with the metal bit grinding between his teeth. When she stood, his head shot up, flipping the reins in the air.

“You ready to go home, boy?”

He responded by coming closer and nudging her with his head. She had to smile. Octavion had just lost himself a good horse.

She gathered the reins, used the fallen log so she could better reach his back and hefted herself up onto his back. He stood completely still, letting her adjust to the saddle and find the stirrups.

“Thanks, buddy,” she said, stroking his mane. Then nudged his side with her heels.

At first, the setting sun spilled over the forest through tiny spaces between the leaves and branches, giving her enough light to find her way through the trees that separated the meadow from the road that led to the castle. Soon the shadow of the mountain blocked the sun and Kira found herself making her way through a long dark tunnel filled with strange animal sounds and eerie noises. The hair pricked the back of her neck as she rode deeper and deeper into the trees.