Obsidian and Stars (Ivory and Bone #2)(58)

But Kol hasn’t thought of this. Or if he has, that’s not what he wants to talk about now.

“I wasn’t afraid of you living a long life without me,” he continues. “I wasn’t afraid even that you would forget me. You would marry someone else someday. It would be better if you did forget.

“But I was concerned about one small thing. I was worried I would never get to dance the wedding dance with you.”

The sun has sunk so low that it gives little warmth. Cold seeps up from the hard ground. Yet despite the chill, my body warms. My hips turn, tilting me toward Kol. I lean in, almost close enough to kiss his lips. “We could dance right now,” I say. Heat runs down my spine. I lean closer.

Just as my cool lips press against the heat of Kol’s, a sound snaps my head around.

The sound of a dart sticking into the ground.

I tear myself from Kol and spring to my feet. A spruce dart identical to the one that pierced Noni sticks up at an angle just an arm’s length away. I pivot, searching the darkness that spreads in every direction, broken by only the smallest swaths of light. I see nothing, nothing, nothing . . . but then another dart lands a bit farther from my feet, but a bit closer to Kol. My gaze flicks to the place it came from and I see her—Dora—her bright white hair glowing in the scattered twilight. She is running hard straight for us through the trees.

She must be out of darts. She shoulders a spear, and she is closing in, nearing the distance she needs to make the strike. I lunge for Anki’s spear. The shaft, sticky with blood, feels right in my hand.

I step out, putting distance between me and Kol. I know what she wants. She’s not here to kill Kol; she’s here to kill me. And despite the shadows, despite the trees, despite the way she seems to struggle to get a clear view of me, she is determined to take the shot. So I encourage it. I step out just far enough for the slanting rays of the sun to slash across my face. Her steps slow . . . she takes three sliding steps forward and releases the spear.

Even before it’s out of her hand, I’m diving back into the shade, toward Kol and toward the ground. The shot falls just short, nicking my calf as I fall.

I look up, and my eyes meet Dora’s. She smiles, the same meek smile I first saw when she climbed out of the kayak on the shore of the Manu’s camp, her arms laden with sealskin to help them rebuild the camp her son had tried to destroy.

A smile that is a lie.

Her eyes are on her spear just a few paces from my feet. She has no hope of retrieving it before I can get off a shot. Judging by her smile, she’s out of darts, too.

“You’re making a mistake,” Dora says. “I know you think I came here to kill you, but I didn’t. I came here to stop you from marrying a boy from the clan that killed your mother. She was a friend of mine, and if I have to kill him to honor her memory, that’s what I’ll do.”

Dora stops. Her eyes cast a quick glance over her shoulder. She’s thinking about escape. “Even in your last moments,” I say, “you’re still a liar.” She pauses, hesitates, just long enough for me to raise Anki’s spear. Then she turns and runs back the way she came—back toward the cliff.

As I chase her, I hear her suck in heavy, labored breaths. She’s still winded from the hard climb up the cliff from the beach. The evening air grows colder—the north wind sweeps over the cliff from the sea—and my own lungs burn. My eyes tear and my cheeks sting, but I never slow.

Within ten paces of the cliff wall, I catch up to her. I am well within range. I think of my sisters on the beach heading for the boats, maybe even coming back with them by now. I think of the possibility Dora has her own boat at the base of the cliff, maybe loaded with other weapons. How if I don’t stop her, she could reach the others faster than I could.

And I throw the spear.

It sails true to its target, but she drops to the ground and rolls just in time. It grazes her hip and bounces in the dirt.

From where I stand, I assess the distances. She is closer to the dropped spear than I am. She could be armed before me. She sees it too. Her eyes give away her desperate need to reach it, but her mouth, twisted in pain, gives away the extent of the wound on her hip.

Dora raises herself on one knee, lunging for Anki’s spear. Time slows, and I notice small details—the curl of the grass under the hand of the wind, the shadows of birds flying west toward the sun. I think of those birds—I wonder if they are black shags, flying to their nests out at sea. And I notice a sound, the howl of a dog, and a voice calling my name.

I turn and look back, just a momentary glance over my shoulder. Kol stands, leaning on the shaft of Lees’s spear like a walking stick. “Use this,” he says, and he holds it out to me.

And so I turn and run, knowing that as I run to retrieve Lees’s spear, Dora is retrieving Anki’s.

My feet fly over the ground. I feel like an elk or a deer. I grab the spear and spin. Dora is struggling to rise to her feet. Blood pours from her hip. She moves slowly, getting only to her knees before I am closing the space between us, preparing to take the shot. She wobbles, climbs to her full height, shifts her gaze from me to Anki’s spear and then to the cliff behind her.

She makes her choice and staggers toward the cliff.

I am still chasing her—still closing the distance in hopes of making the shot—when she plunges over the edge and down to the sea below.