Black Moon Draw(24)

“I know it’s the end of the era. I thought . . .” The last thing I want is his full attention on me again so soon. “You know, never mind.”

“You thought what?” He’s not resuming his movement, his eyes pinned to mine. “What does your magic tell you?”

I hold up my hand to show him before realizing he can’t see what I do. “It marks the time before the end of the era. In my experience, a countdown is never good news. I’d like to know what’s coming. Maybe.”

His gaze lingers then drops to the medallion. “There are no secrets between a knight and his battle-witch. Not the world she came from, not the curse he carries. Not even her name is kept from him. Do you understand, witch? When I ask you a question, you will answer with the truth. Always.”

Eh . . . It’s not the answer he wants, so I nod.

“A thousand-year curse was placed upon all the kingdoms of the realm. ‘Tis my duty to break it by the end of this era.”

There’s some bad juju here. I can feel it. “Or . . .”

“Or the fogs of Black Moon Draw swallow all. This realm, and all within it, ceases to exist.”

I might as well have been hit by a bag of doorknobs. “No. That can’t be.”

“’Tis so. To break the curse, I must finish what my ancestors did not: reclaim the lands that belong to my family.”

“So you prayed for a battle-witch to help you.” I don’t like this sinking feeling inside me, the one that says I need to help an unlikely hero save his world. I don’t want anything to do with this place and definitely don’t want to be responsible for not having bizarre magic powers.

“Aye.” He lifts the boar’s head once more.

I watch in reluctant fascination as he puts the monstrosity on. The inanimate head comes to life the moment it’s on securely, the eyes flaring gray and snout wrinkling as it breathed in and out.

It’s just so creepy . . .

He starts towards the entrance.

The leather strap snaps me forward, and I’m soon trotting to keep up with his long, quick stride. Embarrassed, I purposely don’t look at the people we’re passing because I’m afraid of what they’re thinking. After my exchange with the Shadow Knight, it’s harder for me to pretend this is fiction.

But it is! I scream at myself internally. It’s not like these people will show up in real life anyway and the new me, the person I want to try to be here, isn’t going to be upset with what complete strangers think.

A group of horses mill near the edges of the field where the earlier battle occurred. Two wait a short distance from the others and the Shadow Knight takes us in that direction.

The squire is holding the halter of one, a gorgeous gray dapple, that’s only a few inches shorter than the huge black steed beside it. The horse’s eyes glow the same strange color blue as the Shadow Knight’s.

He goes to the gray one and stops on the left side.

“That is your squire,” he tells me and points to the boy.

The kid waves.

“Ah. Got it,” I reply.

The Shadow Knight faces me. “He stays with you at all times when I am not present.”

I don’t ask why. The kid is too small to defend me, unless I’m supposed to defend him. It makes more sense that this is the case, seeing as how I’m allegedly a magical being.

“I will take care of him,” I say in the awkward silence that’s fallen between the Shadow Knight and me.

The squire frowns.

The Shadow Knight shakes his head. Without another word, he grabs me at the waist and lifts me off the ground and onto the horse. I catch a whiff of brownies, or maybe it’s simple awe at his strength. Whatever it is, I forget to react or think and instead revel in the experience of him holding me.

He sets me on the saddle, his large hands nearly circling my waist. I’m not a little girl by any means and haven’t been a virgin in three years. In that moment, I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever been touched by a man, like I’m delicate, tiny, and about to melt at his feet in a pitiful puddle.

“You have something to say, witch?”

Realizing I’m gawking at him, I shift back and grip the saddle. “No.”

He releases me and walks around the back of the horse, adjusting the loop around my belt to the side nearest his horse. Mounting, he accepts his reins from his squire.

I watch how he sits on the horse and what he does. With some effort, I swing one leg over the horse’s neck and straddle the saddle. It’s not comfortable. The saddle is thin, and my dress is bunched up beneath me.

I take the reins from my squire, who smiles reassuringly, and try to figure out how to get my horse to go.

The beautiful gray ends up following the Shadow Knight. My challenge then becomes steering, for fear of the horse going one way and the Shadow Knight dragging me the other.

He starts trotting and so does my horse. I drop the reins and grab its mane to keep from falling off at the jarring pace. Within a couple of minutes, my ass is hurting. Thank god my horse is content to follow the black one. I’m not sure how I could hang on and steer at the same time.

There’s no way I can spend nine days on horseback.

We reach a second field where thousands of men are lined up on horses in neat rows. We slow, and my attention shifts with no small amount of amazement. The men all wear the heads of different animals and ride horses as large as the one I’m on. They’re also as well armed as their leader.