Page 4 of Promise of Darkness
It laughs, a faint, wheezing sound, as it prowls back and forth. “In trouvle now, little fae.”
It’s between the door and me, and even though it’s bleeding heavily, it’s still twice my size. And I’m down a weapon.
Curse it.
I clamber to my feet, forcing my voice full of a false bravado I don’t feel. If in doubt… bluff. “I don’t know. It seems I swapped the knife for a star-forged sword. I’d say I just traded up.”
It snarls and swipes the air threateningly in a mine-is-bigger-than-yours kind of way.
Okay, fine. “Yes, I know. My, what big claws you have….”
One day my mouth is going to get me in trouble.
“Come closer and see dem,” it hisses.
I lunge forward, sword whining as it cuts through the air. Right into the sunlight that streams through the arched window, which blinds me for half a second. The bane avoids the blow, but instead of lashing out and taking advantage of my blunder, it hesitates.
“Prinshess….”
What?My sword hovers in the air. “Do you know who I am?”
Its lip curls as it backs away. “Ish-vien.”
Close enough. I stare at it in horror. There’s only one way it could recognize me by sight. “Who are you?”
“I am loyal, my princhess. I am Evernight,” it whispers, holding up one paw, claws curled inward. “Pleashe. Pleashe don’t hurt me.”
Evernight?
The Kingdom of Evernight is the enemy. Evernight and Thorns have been at war for centuries. How would it know me?
When I was a little girl, I remember playing games of Strategy across from my mother. Each game was a lesson, and if I played well, I would not be punished. It made me wary, thoughtful, hesitant…. And Mother noticed.Trust your instincts, Mother would say, eyes alight upon me.Instinct is the cold kiss of warning that something is wrong, but hesitation is a death knell.
And right now, mine are blaring.
It knows my face. My name. And I swear I’ve never come across an envoy from the Kingdom of Evernight. Mother will barely let us speak its name, let alone encourage mingling.
I lower the sword. “How do you know who I am?”
Movement shifts behind it.
“Don’t move,” says Andraste, stepping inside the room with her bow drawn.
The bane hisses, rising onto two feet, its hackles lifting. Amber fury rolls across its eyes, driving away any last vestiges of its humanity. All that’s left is rage.
“Don’t kill it!” I have to know who it was.
“Did you hit your head? That’s what we’re here to do.”
“Something’s wrong.” I don’t take my eyes off the beast. “How does it know who I am?”
Andraste steps to the side, her bow nocked, the string tight with tension. “Step back, Iskvien.”
Before I can even move, the bane roars and rams me. My sword lands with a clatter as I slam onto the stone floor, the beast leaping over me.
An arrow flashes, and it screams.
Then it’s upon my sister, driving her into the wall. Andraste whirls beneath its lashing claws, swirling her cloak in a flourish that traps them. She ducks free of the fabric, draws the knife from her right boot, and lunges forward.
