Black Moon Draw(16)

He motions for me to sit and moves behind me the best he can. “Arms up,” he says cheerfully.

I raise them. He drapes straps over me that make an X at my solar plexus. He adjusts the light shield and then pulls the straps tight to hold it in place at my back.

“Like a Ninja Turtle,” I say, stretching back to tap it. It feels like it’s got a wooden core, covered by leather.

The boy gives another half-hearted nod, a sign he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Are you ready for battle?” he asks hopefully.

“About this battle thing. I don’t really do war,” I tell him. “I’m more of a peace-witch.”

“Peace?”

“You know, the opposite of war. What happens when there’s no war, when people decide they’re done fighting.”

“Ah. Submission. Our enemies do this.”

I’m not sure how to respond. In what kind of place do peace and submission mean the same thing?

“You make men submit,” he says, starting to smile again. “This is very good, too.”

“We’re not really talking on the same level, are we?”

“Come. I will show you men who need peace.”

I didn’t have a headache when I woke, but I’m about to get one now. Nonetheless, I follow him out of the tree house.

At first glance, I don’t notice the thousands of hiding spots, until someone emerges from the trunk of a tree. With a second look around, I see them.

There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of trunks acting as miniature homes, each marked by a chalky X above the opening acting as an entrance. Lanterns and small fires glow from inside the wide trunks, some of which also contain saddles, blankets, clothing, and wooden boxes.

The encampment is empty. It’s midmorning. At least, it is until LF forgets what time of day she set this scene in. I’m hoping this chapter is more consistent. I hate reading books where things don’t make sense. Living it is even worse.

“Any minute now, LF. You can send me home,” I whisper.

“Come!” the boy cries from a trail wide enough for a wagon.

“Okey dokey.” I marvel at the tree houses where the army lives. I always envied the Ewoks on Star Wars because they lived in the trees. When I get home, I’m going to look into how to have a tree house like the ones here built.

As I trail him, I start to think why I might really be here. There must be a purpose to it. Maybe the Shadow Knight is too powerful and the real Hero needs help protecting good from evil. Or could it be that I have some strange magic power that can help the people of this world?

I like my first theory better, because it seems like a much easier issue to resolve. I have to find the Hero, help him on his journey, and then I can go home. It makes the most sense, right?

Everything in LF’s books happens for a reason. There’s purpose behind every character and subtle hints along the way that the Hero ends up figuring out in order to save the world or rescue someone or learn a valuable lesson that makes him a better person, leader, lover, something. I’m not sure who Westley is, but I wouldn’t be surprised to meet him later.

If I look at this adventure from this angle, instead of just being totally freaked out, might I see some of the keys I need to understand why I’m here? The sooner I figure that out, the sooner I might be able to get home.

My gaze falls to the teen boy ahead of me.

“Hey, um, kid?” I call and quicken my step. “Who is the main enemy of the Shadow Knight?”

“The Desert Knight of Brown Sun Lake.” The words come out a hiss.

Ah, that’s right. The man who mortally wounds the Shadow Knight in the book LF started. “And what’s he like? Heroic?”

“The Shadow Knight is heroic!”

“Okay, but are they opposites? Like, the Shadow Knight has a reputation for chopping off people’s body parts and forcing everyone he conquers into submission.” I self-consciously squeeze the hand that grew back after he hacked it off.

“He does.” There’s pride in the boy’s tone.

“Is the Desert Knight of Brown Sun . . . uh . . .” Is it me, or are these names complicated?

“Lake.”

“Right. Brown Sun Lake. Is he like the Shadow Knight?”

“Oh, no. He tortures men and rapes women. He eats the skin off his slaves and will end the world as we know it.”

Holy hyperbole. “Wait. You’re saying the Shadow Knight doesn’t torture or rape or pillage?”

“He only allows quick deaths, even to his enemies, and everything we pillage is returned to Black Moon Draw, where the sorcerer divides it up among everyone in the kingdom fairly.”

“Like Robin Hood, but with a lot more killing.” I’m not getting a good sense at all of who might be the Hero. By the kid’s rationale, it’s the Shadow Knight. But whether someone is tortured in battle or killed quickly, it sounds horrible to me. Definitely not the actions of a Hero.

There’s always the Red Knight. He had some funky shit going on. I don’t quite want to rule him out as a potential Hero, not after meeting his sisters. They seem to have turned out well for having a brother of questionable actions.

Which leaves me, once again, trying to figure out what my part in this story is. They’re going to be disappointed when they realize I’ve got no magic.