Beautiful Beast

Chapter 21

KALISTA 

I feel numb like I have been walking for hours through the heart of the north quarter. I want to give up, forget about fighting. And yet, there is a tiny flame. Small but bright.

Arawn.

I cracked and emotion flowed from me in big ugly tears. My mother would have scolded me, but Arawn seemed to care. He held me quietly, understanding yet not saying a word. It was what I needed.

He is gone now, and my cup of chocolate is empty. I suppose it is time.

Galinda is likely celebrating her victory now. Cheating. That is what I call it. What she did was an act of torment and if there were any other powerful sorcerers alive, it would not be permitted. There may be some left in the world who have magic, but no one who has the strength or courage to stand up to her. So she has free reign to do whatever she likes, even in my own domain.

Stiffly pushing myself up, I trudge to my room. Beedy clucks as usual, but I can hear the worry and grief in her voice.

Fitted in my breeches and boots, I join Arawn in our outpost. He simply nods his head in greeting, but that is enough. Mechanically, I toss my rose petals and cast the illusion spell. Then we wait. When the first shadow appears from the forest, Arawn lowers himself to the ground. Tonight, though, I do not want to be left up there on my own. I swing my legs over the windowsill and jump down beside him.

Arawn glances at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure." My voice is raspy from crying and I uncomfortably clear my throat. What must he think of me after what happened? That was definitely not my most graceful moment. My eyes were likely red and puffy, and my nose was running... I probably got it all over his shirt. Covertly, I glance at his clothing, but it is a clean shirt. Despite my vulgar blubbering, he is still standing beside me staring straight into danger's ugly face. Does that mean he cares about me, or is he just trying to save his country?

A wolf howls and I am pulled from my childish dreaming. This is preposterous. I am beginning to resemble my sisters who would moon and gossip over young men and whether they were truly in love. Love? I am not sure that is relevant. Arawn could never love me.

The wolves creep through the long grass of the meadow, then step onto the lawn in front of us. As they draw nearer, I notice that there is something different about them today. There is a strange sort of restlessness like their leashes are not quite as short. This time, I must be successful in donning my stone mask. Not a flicker of emotion must slip forward.

She is revelling in her past triumph and it is making her careless. I will make her regret this weakness. I will make her regret everything that she has done to me.

With fluid motions, the wolves begin their pacing. They prowl in a semicircle about us, staying near, but never coming too close. I watch them carefully, searching and waiting for the most minuscule movement that will expose my nemesis.

And finally, a wolf steps past the invisible line that was drawn between us and them. The wolf next to it turns toward the rebel and growls. It is her. I can see it in the poison-green of her eyes.

Magic she is ready for, but not arrows. Within a breath, I wrench the crossbow from Arawn's hands, take aim, and shoot. Laced with magic, the missile spins through the air and strikes the back of her neck.

The creature screams, not the scream of a wolf, but the scream of a woman and I know that I have shot true. Reaching for another arrow, I hurry forward, over the hinge plate, and out of the cage. I take aim again, but suddenly there is chaos. The wolves snarl and stretch, delighted at their freedom. Where is she? One more arrow and a flame of magic and she might be dead.