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“My first,” I confirm. “What did you think of it?”
“Not a very good one, really. I like it better when there’s some real fighting rather than just stumbling about.”
“So you didn’t think much of the winner?”
She smirks. “Not even sure I’d call her a winner, except by technicality. The boy screwed up and stabbed himself. She just stood there and watched it happen.”
I nod. Of course, I hadn’t really thought that she would know anything about the mysterious woman. Still, it couldn’t hurt to at least ask. After I’d gathered the information I was really here for, of course.
“Maybe there’ll be a better one tomorrow,” she says. “They’re really exciting when there are a few humans in there who actually know how to fight.”
And with that, she waves goodbye and walks away into the market.
So my mysterious woman appears in a village that is known for civil unrest and revolutionary activity. Enough of it that the King himself is planning to crush them for it. That has to be more than a coincidence, doesn’t it? Either the King is coming here to try and kill her…
But of course, she isn’t my mission. The King is engaged in quieting civil unrest. That’s what matters.
So why do I keep thinking about her? Why does she feel so important when I know she shouldn’t be?
8
LORELAI
It’s good to be in the forest alone.
The forest is simple. It doesn’t care for you, but it also doesn’t expect anything from you. As long as you’re wrapped up in its branches and leaves, you don’t have to be anything different from what you are. The forest will offer its fruits and herbs and other gifts, either way.
The first thing I notice once I’m alone again is the pain in my foot. From the moment the soldiers surrounded me until the moment I ran back into the woods, I’ve been ignoring the sprain. No time to deal with a bad ankle when you’re being chased through a village by a mysterious naga who can dodge an arrow.
But of course, you can only ignore an injury for so long. It’s definitely hurting worse than it did before.
“I’ll have to gather some herbs to make a salve for it,” I tell myself. “But for now, I just need to sit in the branches and rest for once.”
I lean my head back against the trunk of the large tree I’ve chosen to hide in for now, letting my eyes flutter shut. The moment I do, I see that naga again.
I can picture almost every detail of him. His simple cloak. His bright scales, his powerful, tall frame, and the muscles that give him such remarkable and deadly agility.
“Will that be the last I see of him?” I ask myself. It’s certainly possible. I can think of any number of people who have tried chasing me into the forest and who I’ve then never encountered again. Of course, with those people, I didn’t think about them again, either. They were little nuisances on my path and not anything more.
I have a feeling that I haven’t seen the last of that mysterious naga or his piercing yellow eyes. He’s in this village for a reason just like I am, and it would be strange indeed if whatever it is he’s come here to do has absolutely no effect on what I’m planning.
As I lie against the tree, other faces come up before my eyes. The face of the teenage boy at the moment I plunged the knife into him. The face of the man I pushed as he fell into the grip of someone else. The faces of the people I couldn’t get close enough to rescue at all.
The sounds of screaming and the smell of sweat and blood.
That face of surprise was the same that my father had when he was sold into slavery. My mother had it, too, when she realized that the two of us had been betrayed. And she did scream at the very end. I didn’t see what happened because I was running away, but I did hear her cry, and I knew that I wouldn’t ever get to see her again.
The guards had taken her from me. The king they served under had taken her.
It would be easy to kill the King just for my parents. They would certainly deserve his blood, even if he had never harmed another soul in all his life. But I don’t have that luxury. I don’t get to have just one or two people dead. No human who lives under him does.
When I kill him, it will be for all of them. He’ll die for my parents, but also, everyone else who fought in that round-up, or any of the too many people I haven’t been able to save in all these years. I wish I could make him see all the pain he’s caused. I wish he could feel everything that he’s done.
But he’s just one man. He can only hold one man’s suffering and one man’s death. That will have to be worth it.
I pull out my bow and one of my arrows and begin to cut notches in it. I began this when I was young, with one notch for my mother. Ever since, I’ve added a notch every time I’ve had to watch someone die because of this quest. It’s painful to have to add nineteen all at once, by my count. I’ve never had to do so many in one day.
“One day, this bow will launch the arrow that will kill the King. And it will do so with the strength of everyone I’ve ever had to mourn because of him.” Saying it out loud makes me feel stronger. I forget about the pain in my ankle momentarily. My conviction fills me with no room for anything else.
