Black Moon Draw (16 page)

“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.

“It’s beautiful,” I say.

“Mine is larger,” the Shadow Knight grumbles.

“Men are the same in every world,” I stifle a giggle. “Besides you all sleep on the ground. This seems like a palace after that,” I add. “So why meet at the Red Knight’s, if he goes around defiling everyone’s witch?”

“He normally refrains from taking sides with any of us. He is usually an honest mediator,” the Shadow Knight replied.

By the note in the Shadow Knight’s voice, he’s already ruled the Red Knight out as an ally anymore. He pulls the horse to a halt, and we wait. Moments later, a familiar form in a long, red cloak appears from behind a thick wooden door.

The Shadow Knight growls at the sight of the blond knight, a purely animal sound.

“You’ll take care to inquire quickly,” he says to Wolfie.

“Aye.” Wolfie dismounts and leads his horse away.

“Maybe it’s not what you think,” I say quietly, watching the Red Knight approach us with a confident smile on his face, as if he’s going to play this off like nothing happened.

“You are quick to defend the betrayer.” The Shadow Knight isn’t happy.

“You are just as quick to assume the worst about a man who is going to be your brother by marriage soon.”

“I preferred you when you were laughing madly.”

“Maybe if you didn’t randomly declare war on everyone, you’d find some people aren’t that bad!”

“’
Tis not random, witch. Were you a normal woman . . .”

“You’d sell me. I know.” What an asshole.

Pissed at me, the Shadow Knight dismounts and takes the reins as he moves to meet the Red Knight. The horse starts prancing nervously and I hang onto the saddle.

The exchange between him and the Red Knight is curt and brief. The Red Knight wisely doesn’t look at me, as if suspecting he’s already in trouble with the Shadow Knight who has no qualms about lopping off body parts to prove a point.

The Shadow Knight drops the reins and starts back towards me. Before he can drag me off the horse, I slide off on my own and groan.

My god – my legs have never hurt like this. I don’t think I can walk straight and am grateful for the dress that prevents people from seeing the fact I can’t hold my legs together. They’re quivering and burning, my ass hurting from the uncomfortable travel.

“How can you ride around like this?” I grumble at the Shadow Knight.

Ignoring me, he reaches over one of my shoulders to grip the pommel of the saddle and nudges me aside to reach the saddlebags. Trapped between his thick arms with his wide chest close enough to touch if I’m not perfectly still, I can’t tell if I’m going to stop breathing or hyperventilate. His scent and warmth affect me too quickly, and I work hard to suppress the fire in my system.

I don’t dare look at him when he’s this close and wait silently for him to finish. He’s not remotely aware of what’s going through my mind or the tremor of anticipation heating my blood.

He stops moving. When he doesn’t start immediately, I look up to see he’s gazing down at me.

Or . . . Maybe he’s very aware of his effect on women.

As if hearing the thought, amusement warms his eyes briefly. “Come, witch.” Slinging a satchel over his head, he stalks away.

I release the breath I’ve been holding, pull the messenger bird off the horse’s mane and follow.

The sun is going down. It’s suddenly darker. Looking up at the dusky sky in annoyance, I make a mental note to send LF an email when I get home and tell her to get a grip on her concept of time.

We walk into the hold, and my attention is instantly arrested by the incredible scene before me. It’s almost like going back in time: servants in white scurry around in a foyer with a ceiling thirty feet high. The wooden beams supporting the stone structure are visible and a wrought-iron chandelier holding blazing torches hangs from one of them. There are torches ensconced on the walls as well and one of the three doors of the foyer is open to reveal a great hall with some combination of herbs lining the floor. A monstrous table stretches the length of the banquet hall. Burning hearths punctuate the wall every fifteen feet or so.

I smell mint and . . . basil. Comforting, refreshing scents that make my stomach growl more loudly.

Where the fourth wall would be is a hallway four people wide and twenty feet tall that leads into the interior of the fortress.

Breathing deeply, I turn around completely to take in the scene, loving this place. I mean, who
doesn’t
want a castle? I knew the Red Knight had something good going for him.

Except for keeping a poor kid prisoner and accepting bribes from the Shadow Knight’s enemy.
Then again, who am I to take sides?

“The Shadow Knight will not be pleased that you do not follow him.”

I turn to face the Red Knight. He’s keeping his distance, but he’s got a look on his face that says he’s as interested in talking to me as I am him.

New start. No more cowering wallflower for me.

“He’ll get over it,” I proclaim.

The Red Knight says nothing. He appears to be trying not to smile.

“Hey, can we talk?” I ask, closing the distance between us. “I have some more questions.”

His blue gaze is on the hallway, as if he doesn’t want to get caught talking to me. “We may. I have questions for you as well.”

“Hmmm. Okay. I guess that’s fair.” I find myself momentarily caught in gazing at his noble, chiseled profile and hoping he’s not the Betrayer. He’s a pretty boy compared to the Shadow Knight, and I’m not sure two more handsome men exist. “When and where?”

Blue eyes settle on me, wary yet amused. “Two candlemarks, by the well at the center of the gardens.”

Candlemark. It’s gotta be a measure of time.
Except I’m not really sure how long that is.

At my blank look, the Red Knight allows a small smile to slip. “I shall send someone to find you.”

“That’ll work,” I reply. “I better go for now. Shadow likes to use his axe on people.”

“Indeed. It would be wise if you did not tell him about our plans.”

“Got it.” With a smile, I turn away and start down the hallway.

I don’t see the Shadow Knight but assume he’ll find me when he realizes I’m not following.

“Battle-witch!” It’s my squire and he sounds frantic.

Facing him, I wait as he emerges from the intersection I just passed and hurries to me.

“You should not wander off!” he chides me. “The knights here will do terrible things to you, if they catch you! You’ll be -”

“Deflowered and beheaded. I know.” I roll my eyes. “C’mon. Take me to wherever I’m supposed to be.”

The poor kid rarely interacts with me without ending up confused or uncertain. He takes my hand and tugs me down an adjacent hallway. I don’t know how he knows his way around. I’m soon lost. The hold is a maze of hallways, stairs, and closed wooden doors that all look alike. There are no windows to help me orient myself. For all I know, he’s taking me in circles.

We arrive to a hallway that looks like every other one, except it has a dead end. One of the doors is cracked and the squire pushes it open.

The bedchamber is more impressive than the foyer. There are thick rugs in jewel-toned colors covering the stone floor and lining the walls, a huge hearth taller than I am on one side, a four-poster bed that’s at least twice as large as a California King, numerous trunks and wardrobes, a dining area by the corner nearest the door, and a bench seat beneath the windows.

“This is gorgeous!” I exclaim, walking to the bed. It feels like a real mattress and I fling my sore, aching body across it, sinking into it with a sigh. It’s plush and the blankets a bit itchy. They smell like horses. Pretty much everything in this world does, I’m noticing. But I don’t care. I curl up on my side and relax my unhappy body.