Page 33 of Starside

I look over my shoulder, hoping Pagnus has been distracted, only to see him barge right through a branch, wood chips flying.

Shit. I turn around again, just as Valen confidently reaches up toward the weapons, arm flexed taut. A blade soars down right into her hand.

It’s been claimed. They’ve been matched.

Magnificent. The silver sword she’s claimed, with an emerald in its hilt, is nothing short of brilliant. Every challenger is now reaching toward the swords, furiously trying to claim one. One of the blades, etched in intricate designs, wriggles back and forth before wrenching itself free. It soars down into an awaiting hand.

Kira’s. She grips it and beams. It’s old metal … rusted and chipped, but it’s silver. Better silver than the king’s, even. It has a glimmering purple stone in its hilt and flower designs up its blade.

She turns when she sees Pagnus crashing through the trees. We lock eyes, and hers widen.

I nod at her. Good luck, I hope it conveys as I keep running.

More branches snap like twigs. They do nothing to slow Pagnus. I hope a sword will fall and go through his skull, but I’m not so lucky.

Especially not when I see who’s waiting up ahead.

Cadoc and his friends. They’re standing below another cluster of swords, throwing rocks at them. Reaching for them clearly didn’t work.

He sees me, and Pagnus not far behind, and raises a hand.

Pagnus stops, like a trained dog.

I don’t. I keep going, until something hits my temple. The world spins before I hit the ground.

A rock. One of his friends just hit me with a fucking rock.

Cadoc slowly walks toward me. I wonder why Pagnus is listening to him at all when he could tear Cadoc in half with his bare hands.

“Look at you,” Cadoc says, smug as hell. “So close to the gates. You could join us, you know.” He smirks. “I have needs that require attending to.”

I get his meaning immediately and unsheathe my sword, standing.

That only seems to amuse him. “Is that a no?”

I spit at his feet. “It’s a never.”

His amusement falls away completely. “Very well.” He waves a hand, and I watch as one of his friends, a thin man in his early twenties with pale skin, pulls an arrow out of his quiver.

I can’t duel against an arrow.

I take off. There’s a whistling as the arrow flies right over my head. I can feel its wind rustling my hair. Close. Too close.

I duck behind a tree and hear the bark break as another arrow pierces nearly all the way through.

There are just seconds between reloading, and I use them to run to the next tree. This time, the arrow nearly catches my arm. The next trunk is too far. I throw myself behind a massive tombstone instead, pressing my spine against the coarse rock. Its writing has been eroded by time.

Panting, one hand clutching dirt and the other my blade, I wonder if I can just stay here. If I can use this tombstone as a shield. If they’ll forget about me …

I don’t matter. I’m not important. Is Cadoc’s ego truly that big, that he has to kill me for turning him down?

Apparently, yes.

“Hiding, are you?”

He’s not far. I hear a tombstone shattering, like he’s just swung at it with his new silver sword.

Then another. And another. He’s getting closer.