Black Moon Draw(13)

“If you are a witch, which I suspect you are, it will grow back. If you are not, it will not,” he reasons.

“But if it’s not, I won’t have a hand.”

“You have another. Many men have survived with one hand before you.”

My mouth drops open. “Fine. I’m a witch. You caught me. Now let’s not chop me up!”

The hand around my forearm leaves and he wraps it around my neck.

I freeze, uncertain if being strangled is better than having parts of my body violently removed.

“First, witch, learn this. You will never, ever, ever lie to me.” The sharpness of his tone makes me jump. He’s gone tense, the veins of his forearms and neck standing out in a sign of visible agitation while the boar’s nostrils flare. “I know when a man lies or deceives. Do you understand me?”

I nod quickly.

“Now, watch.” He takes my arm again and readies the axe.

“No, no, no, no!” I try to get away. “Don’t! Please! LF – get me out of here!”

He twists, isolating my hand and leaving me with nothing but his broad back to pound at.

That’s when it hits me. He smells like camping: forest, horseback riding, and . . . brownies.

God, I love brownies.

The axe goes up and drops.

Hot agony shoots through me.

I scream.

Darkness takes me.





Chapter Six





If she is a witch, she is not a very good one. The Shadow Knight caught his newfound prize with one arm as her body sagged. He secured the axe at his back and took her arm again, watching in satisfaction as the wound healed. Skin grew over the stump of her arm and, within two breaths, a new hand began to grow. She healed quickly – a sign of good fortune and great power.

Of course, the battle-witch who was supposed to be learning this lesson was not conscious to see it.

Were all witches newly come from the edge of the world like this? Hysterical, rambling about nonexistent places, and talking to people he was not able to see? Was this her magic or madness?

The Shadow Knight had never met a new witch. His were looted from neighboring kingdoms, and all of them had been stately, calm, and commanding the respect of his men the way he did. In fact, he quarreled with many of the battle-hardened women when he was a young knight about the best way to win a battle.

They were always right. It was a lesson he reluctantly accepted after two key defeats.

But this one . . . She was unlike the others. He doubted he would be taking advice from her anytime soon. Maybe this was the way of the battle-witches; they had to be trained, the same way a boy who one day grew into a knight.

If so, she was indeed in the right kingdom. He had been at war since he was old enough to hold a sword and could share with her the winning strategies he intended to use in the arid, treeless expanse of Brown Sun Lake. His only real concern was how he was going to train her when he needed her magic now.

He shifted her in his arms. She was delicate and unusually pretty with long, dark hair and large, expressive green-blue eyes. Her golden skin was so much softer than that of any woman he had ever had in his bed, even the pampered daughters of other Knights. He found himself petting her arm, intrigued by the silky sensation.

The cloak clearly belonged to a battle-witch, along with the medallion his scout had been given to mark his claim on the newest member of Black Moon Draw. The clothing beneath was unlike anything he had seen. Thinner than silk, smoother than polished marble, it left most of her body exposed, as if the material was too expensive for her to have a full gown made.

The faint rattle of something in her pocket drew his attention. He dug a hand into it and withdrew the familiar coinage of Brown Sun Lake. The wooden coins were to the desert dwellers what gold was to the forest dwellers. With no trees in the kingdom, Brown Sun Lake reserved wood for royalty and coins of great value.

He studied them with a frown, uncertain when his battle-witch had the chance to interact with his enemies when she was newly arrived.

The sound of pursuers reached his sensitive boar’s ears.

Dropping the coins into her pocket, the Shadow Knight tossed her over one broad shoulder and wrapped his arm around her thighs securely. He flung his head back and belched a roar that would be heard by every one of his men for miles, a signal he had captured what he came for. Testing his balance with the woman’s additional weight, he maneuvered weapons to the side opposite the one she was on and lowered to a squat, eyeing the trees in the area.

With nothing more than pure leg strength, he launched towards the nearest tree and used it as a stepping-stone to the next.

The Shadow Knight leapt and ran from tree to tree, touching each trunk only long enough to propel onward to the next, thereby avoiding the troublesome brush that clogged the forest floor.

He reached the deer trail through the forest and leapt from tree to dirt, landing in a crouch before bounding forward with the agility of a great cat towards Blue Star Bridge, where his men would rendezvous and rejoice at having a new battle-witch to lead them in the upcoming war against Green Dawn Cave and his mortal enemy, Brown Sun Lake, the last great battle before this era ended and with it, the curse of Black Moon Draw.

A thousand years of Shadow Knights had dreamt of this day. His legacy, his curse, his fate – were all about to change, now that he had found the key to absolute victory.

Not even the gray fog of the curse that clogged his blood dampened his triumph as he made his way towards Blue Star Bridge.