FIREFANGED

Chapter 11 (Weapon of Kings)

Raven sat across the table, her eyes on a bowl of spicy trout soup and dark bread hot from the oven. We were both freshly washed, dressed in new clothes, and doing our best to break the uncomfortable silence.

The woman's appetite wasn't a problem, but with every small bite she took, a wave of grief and sadness rolled across her face. Anything was better than the emptiness she harbored inside, but someone had done their worst to this woman, and I wasn't sure her exhausted body would outlast her broken heart.

I barely knew her and had no idea what to say to make her feel better, so I started with a simple adage stolen from a sign over the church's pantry door: "You can't heal your heart on an empty stomach."

Faster than Brandon Hicks, she snapped back, "And what would you know about my heart?"

No vambrace was quick enough to block that. Even worse, she was right.

What did I know?

"Nothing—I don't know—I'm sorry." I placed my fork on the table. I didn't even know my own heart. Never had the chance.

Feth.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to sound so angry."

Looking past her overly pale complexion, her down-turned lips, and faltering movements, I searched her eyes until I found a glimpse of the fierce survivor that I met on that dark and rocky hillside. "We all do what we must to survive."

She whispered back, sharing her secret, "I don't feel like I survived."

In a single sentence, her emptiness became mine. "I know what you mean."

"You do?"

"Before I came here, I was hunted by a demon. I fought it and—"

It had only been two months since I'd trapped the beast north of Lockrun. The memory was still fresh in my mind. I hoped to meet Raven there—one survivor to another—knowing a strong connection might help pull her soul back to the side of the living.

"And what?" she said.

I smiled, knowing I wasn't going to give up. "Eat, and I'll tell you."

###

After lunch, we walked the castle grounds.

I gently coaxed out her story as she coaxed out mine. I didn't want to wear her out, but I was riveted by her tale of sudden exile and her flight through the Everest range. She'd been on her own for the past fortnight. The hellish hunting party had picked up her scent about a week ago, and she'd been fighting for her life ever since.

She had been able to gain ground during the daylight hours when the demons became more sluggish. Still, they would increase in strength and speed during the night and eventually find her trail. Besides her injuries, the fatigue, and the nightmare of it all, her exile plagued her spirit. Her smile was never more than fleeting.

I told her about my life in Lockrun and how the Vigil had recruited me based on my success in killing a single demon. I left out the gorier details of the fight and the injuries and skipped the part where I had been branded as part of the Order's recruitment process.

Being marked as someone's property isn't the best way to impress a girl, and yes, I wanted to impress Raven. She was a survivor. She was fierce. Her long, beautiful black hair framed a dusky yet pale complexion, while her dark red lips and light gray eyes locked me in place.

Me? I'm only impressive when fighting demons, and the last thing she needed was to be near more of those damned beasts. So instead, I showed her my horse, Daur.