The Vampire & Her Witch

”Look at that,” Brighde said quietly as she sipped hot, mulled wine in the seating area filled by her husband’s vassals and their families. ”It seems like the good Lord Governor Fayle really has been consorting with de-, with the Eldritch all this time,” she said as she watched Erling unleash a second arrow that burned with a brilliant cerulean flame.

”I don’t know why that surprises you,” Telent Rundel said with a snort. ”After the fuss they made about his treaty with Lord Dirar, it’s hardly a surprise to see him using witchcraft.”

”You don’t understand,” Brighde chided lightly. ”A man who keeps a secret pact is one thing. A man who practices witchcraft in secret is another.”

”You’re saying that his weakness and cowardice all these years have been a trap?” Telent said, raising an eyebrow at his wife. ”If so, it’s a trap he could only spring once before the Inquisition would have burned Fayle to the ground. A cornered man’s desperate defense that would only doom him along with whoever stepped into his trap.”

”You’re underestimating him, Telent,” Brighde said, narrowing her eyes as she watched the former baron of the poorest, weakest barony in Lothian March as he raced into the forest. ”A man bold enough to practice witchcraft in secret and skilled enough to hide it right under the Inquisition’s nose all these years is a man with depth and layers who cannot easily be schemed against.”

”We should be wary of him, Husband,” Brighde concluded as she sipped her wine. ”And handle him with caution...”

In the Frozen Forest, Khorijin had just come to the same conclusion as she emerged from the flurry of snow. A warm trickle of blood flowed down her left shoulder where a low-hanging branch had pierced her quilted armor in a moment of blind carelessness. The wound wasn’t large, but it was a painfully pointed lesson in how dangerous the Frozen Forest was.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a bright, cerulean streak arcing over the forest, headed in the direction of the silk scarves they were supposed to be racing toward.

”Clever,” Khorijin said, nodding respectfully in the direction that the arrow had come from. It was impossible for her to become truly lost beneath the starry sky, but for a man like Erling to set a beacon for himself proved just how wrong her approach to this challenge had been, and it was entirely her own fault.

She was thinking and acting like prey.

When Empress Ashlynn explained the challenge, she’d reached for her speed first, hoping to seize an initial advantage that would sustain her through the winding, tangled paths of the Frozen Forest.

Hoping to outrun a predator in a dash for cover was the action of prey fleeing a predator and a betrayal of many of the First Hunter’s most important lessons.

Erling Fayle hadn’t forgotten himself. Like a true hunter, he hadn’t started with a dash. He’d started with an arrow, aimed to guide his prey, block her path, and give him the time to set his beacon before he entered the forest.

Patience was the way of the hunter, and she’d forgotten that in her rush to claim an easy advantage that quickly proved to be worthless. Even worse, Erling’s opening move allowed him to claim first blood, and all she had to show for it was a fifty-pace head start.

A second cerulean streak crossed the sky above her head, this one headed east, and a frown formed on her graceful features as she furrowed her brow. A second beacon? What sorcery was this?

She didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to go chasing after the arrow to find out. Time was precious, and if she didn’t act quickly, her head start really would become worthless.

Erling was small. Not just smaller than she was, he was small even by the standards of human men. He could fit through gaps between trees that she couldn’t and enter the forest in places where she couldn’t pass. If he wanted to evade her entirely, he had a very good chance of doing so unless she could spot him and stay close to him.

But there were other ways to hunt your prey and to force them into the trap you’d set.

”Starlight, reveal my quarry,” Khorijin said, sweeping her gaze across the Frozen Forest.

”There,” she whispered triumphantly as she spotted a small Ice Fruit, glittering with reflected starlight that had gathered at her command. It was no larger than a plum, but it was directly along the path she expected Erling to take, and most importantly, it hung close to the branches of another tree.

-PFEEEEEET!-

Khorijin’s eyes were already searching for another small fruit by the time her first arrow left her fingertips, and the second one was in the air before the first reached it’s target.

-CRACK!-

The sound of a shattering fruit rang out like a clap of thunder, followed by the tinkling sound of a rain of shards of ice. Half a heartbeat later, another loud -CRACK- sounded, filling the air with a cacophony of breaking ice.

At the edge of the Frozen Forest, Erling swore as he watched a giant branch tumble from one of the trees, directly in his path. His heart hammered in his chest as he dove behind the trunk of the closest tree, flattening himself against the ground as much as he could.

Shards of flying ice swept over him, and dazzling flurries of snow filled the air, blinding him for several precious heartbeats as he waited for the sounds of secondary explosions to die down.

”Just my luck,” he muttered, realizing what must have happened. He didn’t only have to worry about the Ice Fruit that Khorijin shot. He also had to worry about any other fruit that was damaged by the blast that she’d unleashed.

When the snow flurry finally cleared several heartbeats later, there was no sign of his opponent, but the narrow path he’d intended to follow was now completely blocked by a tangle of fallen, icy limbs with razor-sharp points.

”Clever,” he said, unknowingly echoing Khorijin’s assessment of his own tactics. ”Time to find another way...”