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Chapter One
Hannah grinned as she skillfully slid down the steep embankment as if effortlessly surfing a wave. When she hit level ground, she dug her toes into the mud and fought the urge to climb back up the hill and slide down again.
“Focus.” She grunted as she nudged herself forward. Today was not the day to play in the forest, marvel at its beauty, or just sit on the ground under the dense canopy and listen to nature speak its many languages in a symphony of sound. She needed to move through the woods as fast as she could without pausing a single second to give her usual acknowledgments or pleasantries to all the souls who inhabited its space. Today, time was not a luxury she could afford.
A slight breeze snaked through the dense foliage, barely disturbing resting leaves as it blew past her body and tickled across her ears. To those who didn’t listen, didn’t tune their minds to the frequency of nature, the wind would have blown past as nothing more than awhoosh. But to Hannah, there were notes in the air, and they created a tune that carried a message. It was the song of nature, and she had been listening to it since she was a child.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, stilled her mind, and listened to the information it carried on its wings. Thecluster of twenty-two men and women behind her was rapidly closing the gap. She frowned. That was not the news she wanted to hear. She thanked the wind for the information, gripped the bow in her right hand a little tighter, and pumped her arms that much faster as she sprinted through the forest.
“Almost…there,” she whispered around strained breaths. The pace she had maintained for the past hour was exhausting, and this obstacle course was the most difficult to date. But the clinking sound of her remaining arrow jostling in the quiver upon her back reminded her that one last challenge stood between her and victory.
She ducked under a branch and hurdled a fallen limb as she picked up her pace. When she saw the long arms of sunlight weaving through the foliage, she knew the forest was thinning. She would be entering the open field soon, where she had one last shot to seal her destiny for another year. She let the drumbeat of her pounding heart set the final cadence for her pace as she bolted through the last clump of bushes. She squinted in the stark contrast of the bright sun as she sprinted across the clearing to a pile of stones stacked ten high, marking the spot that could seal her victory for this year’s competition.
“You’ve got this.” She took a moment to glance around. Over her right shoulder, she confirmed that the remaining archers had not yet emerged from the woods, and over her left, she saw the silent crowd watching her every move with anticipation in their eyes. She nodded in their direction as she smiled. She had a comfortable lead, so what harm could there be if she took the moment and gave them a little show?
She catapulted into the air, and time slowed to almost a standstill as she reveled in the sensation of flight, those fleeting seconds when she cheated gravity, and the wind gave her a brief ride on its wings. She closed her eyes and delighted intraveling aboveground instead of on top of it. But as always, her airborne time was brief. Gravity swiftly reminded her that she was not designed for flight. And as it pulled her down like a scolding parent, she tucked into a ball. She hit the ground on her right shoulder, rolled once, and came to a stop in a half-kneeling position, her left leg bent forward. In a blink, she had the last arrow positioned on her bow. She pulled the string taut as she curled her index and middle fingers around the nocking point.
Hannah inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She blocked out everything except the tree—over a hundred yards out—with a white chalk circle on the bark. Somewhere in that circle was a green pea. She couldn’t see the little legume but knew it was tacked dead center.
As she closed her eyes and let her breathing turn slow and shallow, she drifted into a meditative trance. She blocked the sound of the chirping birds, the sensation of the hot afternoon sun, and the trickle of sweat making its way down the side of her face. She stilled her mind. Talk to me, my friend, she thought, as the wind’s whisper turned from the simple sound of a breeze to words that brushed past her ear and spoke:Not yet.
Hannah remained as still as a stone. She held the string taut and waited. She listened and obeyed, and in return, the wind never failed her. That was the agreement they had made. Her fellow archers said she had agiftandtalentand anuncanny instinct. But nature was the puppeteer, and she was just the puppet.
Wait, the wind whispered again, and Hannah had to call upon the one quality she had never fully mastered: patience. Somewhere in the fog of her mind, she became keenly aware that the other archers had bolted through the forest and were closing on her. A slight twitch developed in her leg, a release of the anxiety that began to swirl in her stomach.
Patience, the wind’s notes said in her ear; it knew her flaws well. Hannah stilled her leg, hoping her mind would follow. Victory would be hers if she obeyed.
Moments later, the slightest breeze blew around her, and in it was a single word:Now.
Hannah released the arrow into the capable hands of the wind. As it flew, she knew it would hit its mark and split the pea in two. She held her breath as a second of silence passed. Then two. Finally, the sound of the roaring crowd penetrated her mind, and the world around her came into focus. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked. She didn’t have to look at the target to know.
Several other archers flanked her and quickly set their stance. Within a minute, several arrows pierced the tree. When a dozen landed within the white circle, the referee raised a red flag, signaling that the competition was complete. The positions for the island’s twelve cupids were now filled. For the disappointed few who didn’t make the cut, there would always be next year.
A flock of men and women descended on Hannah and the archers, pounding shoulders and backs as cheers of congratulations rose above the chatter. “Seriously, do you ever miss?” Piper said as she broke through the crowd and wrapped Hannah in a tight hug. “You do realize you’re making the other archers look bad.”
“What can I say? Oriana taught me well.” Whenever anyone in public, especially her best friend, complimented her skills, Hannah always deflected the praise to the one who taught her the ways of a bow and arrow.
“Oriana may have made you a great archer, but we both know there are other things at play that make you the best cupid this island has ever seen,” Piper said in a low voice. “I see the wind is still by your side.”
“Always.” Hannah smiled. “How else do you think I could—”
“Hannah.” Oriana appeared out of the crowd, slapped a hand on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Hannah turned and extended her arms, palms up. Oriana placed hers on top, the gold arm guards they both wore from wrists to elbows clanked together, but Oriana’s bore the silver arrow inlay that designated her as the master archery teacher, while Hannah’s had two stripes by the wrists, distinguishing her as a cupid. Most of the island’s archers only wore a bracer on their bow arm, but those who could shoot equally well with either arm wore two. And Hannah and Oriana were the only ones, a distinguished honor that she was reminded of every time they performed their customary greeting.
“I see you have done well…again.” Oriana’s characteristically stern expression briefly morphed into a smile. She stood six feet tall, her long salt and pepper hair was braided with weathered leather ribbon, and her athletic body defied the evidence of age deeply etched into her face. But her most notable feature was a scar that ran diagonally from the corner of her right eye to the tip of her lip.
“Thanks to you.” As a child, Hannah had relished any and all praise from her teacher. As an adult, that admiration she’d so desperately sought seemed misplaced. Her arrows, perfectly crafted by Piper, allowed the wind to easily carry them. Both deserved as much praise as she did.
Oriana snorted. “You have instincts beyond my teaching. But I hope I had a hand in showing you how to harness them.” She had said many times that she knew where her teaching ended, and Hannah’s uncanny gift took over.
Hannah felt her cheeks flush. How could she tell her teacher that the wind spoke to her and guided her arrows without diminishing the skilled training of such an admired instructor?“A pupil is only as good as their teacher, and I was blessed with the best and most gifted master archer on this island.”
Oriana threw her head back in laughter. “Always the charmer,” she said as she patted her shoulder. “Always the charmer.”
A hush fell upon the crowd as Nikita, Queen of Archer Island, approached on her dappled gray Andalusian stallion. She was accompanied by her lover, Anna, whose companion mare was creamy white. They were a stunning couple and well-loved and respected. Both wore full-length, ivory-colored dresses with mid-thigh slits that ran the length of the fabric, and both were draped in capes the color of a perfectly aged cabernet sauvignon. What distinguished Nikita as queen was the enormous, deep-green emerald ring on her right hand.
The crowd parted. Nikita dismounted and closed the short distance between them. “My dear, beautiful, Hannah. We honor you yet again.”
