Black Moon Draw(27)

I can’t die here. The fleeting thought is accompanied by raw fear. I have no idea how to use the sword I’m wearing and don’t even bother to draw it. They’ll just laugh at me before dicing me in half.

An idea hits me. Gripping the medallion, I raise it.

“I’ll use this!” I cry.

The men back away.

“Now . . . get the hell away from me!”

“Witch!” It’s the squire. I can’t see him in the battle around me.

Creeping in the direction of his voice, I raise the medallion a little higher when one of the men around me takes a step to follow.

“Witch!” This bellow comes from the Shadow Knight.

“Here!” I cry.

He’s large enough to see above the crowd and he’s plowing his way through the throng of warriors separating us, chopping down everyone in his path. At the sight of him, the five around me melt into the battle.

I drop the medallion and release a breath. My dress is splattered with blood, my hands shaking.

“I told you not to leave my side!” The Shadow Knight snatches my arm.

I push at him. “I didn’t have a –”

“Silence!” His roar makes me jump. Sheathing the axe, he pulls out his sword and tightens his grip around me. “Hold on.”

Hold on? “Are we going somewhere?” I ask.

His scent is stronger, pulling at my senses. Despite his abruptness, I’m grateful to see him. I don’t know how many warriors I can threaten with the medallion before they wisen up and realize if I had any power, I’d use it.

“Aye.”

One minute, we’re standing in the midst of his enemy. The next, my breath is snatched away, and everyone and everything around us freezes in place. We move among them the way I ran through the trees of the forest. Clutched against the Shadow Knight with one arm, I watch in horrified fascination.

Swords appear to have stopped almost mid-strike while the enemies running to attack us move almost too deliberately to see. The world didn’t really stop. It’s just slowed down.

Or we sped way up.

The Shadow Knight’s inhuman speed has knocked my breath from me. He slashes at those around us at full speed in a lethal dance that leaves no one alive in our vicinity. His heart beats quickly and steadily, his scent wrapping around me with his momentum. He’s all but carrying me; my toes barely touch the ground, and there’s a weird purple glow around him that I can’t explain.

We reach an area surrounded by Black Moon Draw warriors.

The otherworldly experience ends as abruptly as it started, and I begin to breathe once more. My senses catch up to me, the clash of metal and war cries jarring me. The Shadow Knight lowers me to the ground, and I wobble, my equilibrium slow to recover after the wild ride.

“What . . . was that?” I ask, looking up at him. He’s no longer glowing and his sword drips with blood.

“Stay behind the line,” he orders. “Disobey and I will have your head, witch!” Releasing me, he launches forward towards the battle.

There’s no line I can see anywhere. I can’t even tell where his army ends and the enemy’s begins. I’m in the middle of a buffered area about twenty feet across, ignored by those nearest me.

“Witch!” My squire’s cry is panicked.

I search the throngs around me for a glimpse of him and spot him finally. He’s a good fifty feet away, trying to flee half a dozen determined pursuers. I cringe at the thought of seeing the poor kid cut down and look around for anyone to help him.

Somehow, he wandered into an area with only a sprinkling of Black Moon Draw warriors. He’s trapped, or will be soon, if he doesn’t find a new direction. I start forward and then stop, fear piercing me.

Disobey and I will have your head, witch!

Which scares me more: being hacked apart by these soldiers or facing the Shadow Knight after?

“Witch!”

I can’t leave him to die. After all, I’m invincible. If I get hacked to pieces, I’ll wake up healed. With misgivings heavy in my gut, I dash forward. Most of the men are too focused on the warriors in front of them to notice me. I squeeze the medallion just in case anyone does and make my way towards the direction where my mostly-useless squire is headed.

One blow lands on the shield on my back and sends me sprawling. Spitting out grass, I twist to look over my shoulder. Whoever whacked me is gone. Climbing to my feet, I continue in the direction the squire is running.

The idiot has broken away from the edge of battle and is running – straight towards Green Dawn Cave’s back-up warriors, who appear to be waiting for the results of their first wave as it ploughs through Black Moon Draw warriors.

“Hey!” I shout.

It’s useless. The boy’s back is towards me. He’s barreling straight into armed warriors.

I am so not a runner. I’m already breathless but force myself to go as fast as I can. My lungs soon burn, my arms heavy, and my legs like wood. Every part of me wants to stop, but I can’t let the kid who at least tried to protect me before get hurt.

“Hey!” I shout loud enough that it hurts my throat. “Squire!”

He hears this and twists as he runs. Spotting me, he switches directions, running a wide circle around to avoid his pursuers.

Exhausted and out of shape, I stop and bend over, panting. This is reminding me of the year we had to run track and field events in high school as part of physical education. After my horrible performance, I was never asked to be on anyone’s team again.