Black Moon Draw(40)

“When I learn a good spell, you’ll be the first I use it on,” I tell Wolfie.

He laughs. The Shadow Knight chuckles.

“’Twould be my pleasure,” the wolf-headed master-at-arms bows his head.

Did he take that as a compliment? I’m not understanding their humor here.

Irritated at them, all it takes to cheer me up is to imagine what the Lord of the Wings looks like. Will he be a hobbit? Or will LF surprise me yet again?

The Shadow Knight pulls out a satchel and plucks the bird from my hands.

“How can you put him in there?” I ask. I reach for the bird and reclaim it. “What if he can’t breathe?”

“’Tis the way it is.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be repressed all day long? To be shoved away and acknowledged only when some idiot of a man decides he wants to use you? He deserves to be free, to see the sky, and not worry about being judged by . . .” I hear my words then and realize I’m not really talking about the bird. We’re a lot alike, and it hits me then that I really am sick of living in the shadows, too afraid of making mistakes to take a chance and really live.

“They do not fly, witch.”

“He can learn!” I snap, suddenly defensive of the bird whose sheltered existence has been too much like mine. “He’s not going in the bag!” And neither am I. Ever again. I place the creature on the horse’s mane. It lowers itself to a squat or roost or whatever birds do.

“Very well, witch.” The Shadow Knight gives a deep, rolling laugh.

“Bird-witch,” Wolfie says, eyeing me as if he’s uncertain if he should laugh or lock me up. “Mayhap we have discovered a new magic.”

“In eight days, she can be any kind of witch she wants. But for now, she’s a battle-witch.”

I feel vindicated, even if I’m not sure I should. I wish Jason could’ve heard that along with everyone I ever went to school with, my parents, the neighbors who only knock on my door to borrow stuff . . .

My gaze falls to the fluffy yellow bird. We’re both going to be free. Hell, maybe I’ll take him back with me to my world when this is over.

“Where did you see a messenger bird?” the Shadow Knight asks. Lowering the bag, he rests his hand on my thigh again, his nonchalant act of possession distracting me.

“Forest,” I murmur, studying his strong hand. “I mean, I rescued it from the Red Knight.”

“Did it impart a message?” Wolfie asks.

“Yes. It said something like, there’s an attack at shadow moon, and capturing someone’s heart.”

The Shadow Knight’s hand tightens into a fist, drawing my attention to my leg. Wolfie growls.

“Is shadow moon a place?” I ask at the tense quiet.

“’Tis the last day before the end of this era,” Wolfie answers.

“The Heart of Black Moon Draw will protect us,” the Shadow Knight adds. His hand moves to the medallion around my neck, and he taps it. “’Tis carved from a black gem from the depths of the mines of Black Moon Draw, the only of its kind.”

Heart of Black Moon Draw. “What a beautiful name,” I murmur. “But why is it called a heart when it’s round?” I lift the medallion and study it once more.

“’Tis not known,” the Shadow Knight’s answer is clipped.

Capture the Heart. I get it now. The Red Knight was being paid off to grab the medallion. Interesting.

Both men are edgy once more after a relatively relaxed start to our journey. Comfortably settled against the Shadow Knight’s body, I grow drowsy at the rhythmic hoof beats and sway of the horse’s back. Exhausted after a horrible night of sleep, I close my eyes and start to drift off, hoping we keep to this slow pace all day and not the awful trotting that makes my ass hurt.





I’m sick of riding horses by the time we reach an impressive stone fortress straight out of the Middle Ages. It’s been hours and should be midnight, but in another of LF’s time glitches, it’s barely late afternoon. I think I prefer days that end too soon to days that don’t seem to end at all. I’m starving, thirsty, cranky, and need a bath.

There are warriors from different armies stationed outside the fortress, their tunic colors helping me identify the lines between the different kingdoms, of which there seem to be ten. We ride straight through the gathered troops, while all but Wolfie stay behind.

The castle walls are thicker than I imagined, a full twenty feet wide, massive stone blocks that make me wonder how they were dragged here to build a castle.

Aliens? I’m too tired to laugh at my own joke.

Inside the walls is a wide, open space, with stables along one wall and what looks like a small farmer’s market along the other. We continue onward towards the castle proper and ride through a second wall, this one leading to a cobblestone courtyard lined by trimmed green bushes.

“Whose castle is this?” I ask, amazed by the size and solidness of the structure around me.

“It’s a hold, and it belongs to the Red Knight,” the Shadow Knight replies.

“What’s the difference?”

“A castle is much grander,” Wolfie supplies. He appears to disapprove of the surroundings, if the narrowing of his canine eyes and the lift of his lips to reveal long fangs is any indication.