“Shadow Herald”: Chapter One
Navaeli forced chilly air into her lungs, each breath feeling like a dozen daggers to her chest. Trees broke up the night wind, but even so, it lashed harshly against her skin. It was especially harsh against the throbbing arrow wound in her ankle. She had no time to stop and attend to it.
The forest around her passed in thick layers of haze and leaves, of blue shadows and faded earth. Ripping her snagged poncho out of a bush, Navaeli fled the distant glare of torches, and the armored figures that bore them, casting broken shadows through the woods. The crest engraved into their breastplates was too far away to make out, but Navaeli knew it all the same.
A war hammer crossed over a forging hammer — the mark of the Irongardhe knighthood.
Hunting hounds bayed from a distance she wished was farther as the dirt underfoot yielded to wet stones and silt, and their call tore deeper than any arrow or sword.
Navaeli silenced a gasp as she stumbled into a cold river. The water’s touch left her numb.
“You’ve fled in the wrong direction,” a secret voice whispered to her. Silky and feminine, accompanied by the phantom touch of taloned hands, gripping her shoulders with a power that made her wince. The loathsome taste of ash and bone met her tongue. “Head north. Surely, you can evade them somehow.”
“Be patient,” Navaeli hissed through her teeth. “Please.”
The phantom grip tensed and then faded away.
Hearing her pursuers gain ground, Navaeli plunged into the frigid currents. She could barely feel the rocks. The river was wide, but shallow, and the water lapped sweetly at her arrow wound, offering a blissful numbness. On the other side, she fought thick undergrowth. Her legs wobbled beneath her. Praying that the crunching leaves would go unheard, she collapsed into the foliage.
Navaeli heard the hounds snarling as they paced along the length of the river. Their masters’ voices rose in reply.
“The girl went this way,” one of the knights called out. “Your arrow must have struck true. There’s blood in the soil.”
“Did she cross over?”
Goosebumps prickled Navaeli's skin. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare breathe. Even her heartbeat, rushing in her ears, seemed eager to give her away.
“Not sure. She wasn’t headed toward the village when we first found her, was she?”
“Fair enough. She might’ve dipped in to lose the scent and run back the way she came. Spread out, quickly now — we can’t afford to lose her trail.”
“Yes ma’am!”
Barking echoed along the riverbed, and the heavy tromp of boots faded into the ether. One still moment passed. Then another. Was it too good to be true? Navaeli counted off the seconds, waiting with bated breath for them to turn around, cross the river, and find her.
Eventually, she had to admit that the chase was over. The knights were gone. A sigh sank out of her, followed by a long-held whimper of pain. Feeling had returned to her wound. Warmth, accompanied by a sharp ache; there was never a moment of peace in this life, was there?
She lifted the cuff of her sirwal and squinted at her ankle. Dark streaks of blood swum in front of her eyes, trailing from a puncture wound that glistened in the pallid starlight.
Cold sweat crept down her neck. It would be just her luck to escape the Irongardhe only to bleed out before the next dawn broke.
“Well then,” Navaeli muttered into the empty air, “what shall we do about this?”
The voice, as it often did, remained silent.
Fine.
There weren’t any bandages in her satchel, but this was far from the first time Navaeli had to try and make do with nothing. Her hands shook as she fumbled for the knife tucked into her poncho. She hacked off a bit of the poncho’s edge and wrapped the coarse fabric as tightly around her ankle as she dared.
Having lost the energy to even sit up, Navaeli slumped into the bracken. It would be unwise to stay where she was. She might be found. But weariness had overtaken her, and try as she might, she just couldn’t spur herself to action.
“If I die out here, you can only blame yourself for it,” she whispered through chattering teeth.
A faint, disappointed scoff sounded at the border of her mind. “Consider yourself lucky to be alive in the first place. None of this would happen to you, if you would only give in to me.”
