Thread of Gold

Ch. 2: ties that bind us

Cold water filled Anna's mouth.

Her nostrils. Her lungs. She was vaguely aware of her knees on the slippery bank, of the feel of grass sliding under her skin. Her assailant shoved her head further into the freezing stream. She thrashed, but their grip was like iron.

Calm, Anna told herself. Stay calm.

Panicking lead to sloppy mistakes. And mistakes led to death.

Anna forced herself to go still. The hand hesitated, and Anna exploded backwards, knocking her assailant over.

The blonde woman lunged for Anna's ankles. Anna gasped, ignoring the icy burn of her lungs as she kicked the woman's hand aside. Her attacker dodged, then sprung to her feet, slipping under Anna's arm to deliver a well-placed blow to her back.

Pain exploded down her spine.

Calm.

They danced around each other, going fist-to-fist, leg-to-leg. Anna settled into the rhythm of it, letting her body anticipate each move. It could have been minutes. Hours. Her body was shivering from the shock of the water, but Anna forced herself to use it, to let the icy sting of it propel her.

Until it didn't.

The woman feinted left, and Anna dodged right, only to realize her mistake: her foot caught on a tree root. Heat flared in her ankle. Anna bit back a cry as she went down, and the woman jumped on her, her thin hands wrapped around Anna's neck.

Like hell.

Anna gritted her teeth. Then she reached. Silvery threads cocooned their bodies. She knew what they must look like — two fish trapped in a net — but that was only an illusion. One of them was the fish; the other was the fisherman.

Her attacker flailed. Anna yanked the threads tighter.

Even now, the force of the nightmares caught Anna by surprise. Images wriggled through her brain like worms: a bloodied wound; a person screaming; a dark-haired woman, her face gashed and frantic, holding a squirming bundle of cloth. Take my baby, Sophie, please take my baby...

Anna's stomach twisted.

She yanked her mind back. The silvery threads disappeared. Her attacker was breathing hard, her pale skin slick with sweat. To her credit, the woman didn't scream, although Anna hadn't expected her to.

Sophie never did.

Anna pinned a silver blade to her throat. "Do you yield?"

Sophie Holloway choked.

"Do you yield?"

"Yes." The word was a gasp. "Yes, I yield."

Anna let go of her. Sophie slumped back on to the grass, her chest pumping up and down. She smelled of sweat and flowers, and her white tunic was stained green. Anna suspected she didn't look much better.

"You were sloppy," Sophie managed. "Your hook—Needs work."

"Don't be a sore loser."

Sophie frowned. Anna offered her guardian a hand up, but Sophie knew better than to accept it. "Your control is getting better. With the nightmares, I mean." She rose. "You were able to pull back them back this time."

Anna grinned. "Remember when I paralyzed you for six hours?"

"I try not to."

"You drooled."

"Well," Sophie said, "there's no need to sound so gleeful about it."

Anna sheathed her silver knife: a gift from Sophie, five years ago. Well, gift was a generous term; Sophie had dumped a pitcher of water over Anna's head and then made her run up a mountain in the freezing darkness to earn it.