Chapter 43 - Fox (Part 2)

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As Felix tossed the most beautiful sword in the five kingdoms into the ship, King Ariel joined his side. The current of the Left Twin was always strong, the vile wind making it stronger still. The King blew a wet lock of hair from his face and stretched his bow.

Fox held his breath when the arrow soared through the sky and plunged into the water with a sharp plunk. Next to him, Fawn gasped. She snagged Fox's hand, as if to hold it, but he pulled it back. Her hand had been wet and cold, and they weren't friends.

In the distance mumbled a deep voice, "And he's our King?"

Meanwhile, one of the guards had hastened to the King with another burning arrow. He snatched it from the man's hands and aimed at the rapidly floating ship.

He fired again; a hasty, sloppy shot that flew into the river, missing its target by mere inches.

From all corners of the courtyard came moans, groans, and an occasional panicky prayer. The old lady behind him whispered loudly, "It's that Grandmaster, Ewe. She's using her magic to make His Majesty fail on purpose—to make him look like a bad King."

Would she really?

Hawk was watching the ceremony from the top of the granite stairs, her arms behind her back. There was hardly any emotion on her face, but this was Hawk. She was always meddling with affairs that weren't her business.

Felix was visibly growing restless as King Ariel put a third burning arrow on the nock and stretched his bow. The little prince alternated between looking up to his father curling his fingers over the bowstring and the ship that was slowly heading towards the tunnel underneath the castle.

"I can't watch this." Fawn pressed her forehead against his arm. This time he let her. "If the King misses again, the ship will be too far away. Princess Panthera will never be allowed in the heavenly halls of our Gods. She'll be doomed for all eternity."

Weird. In Laneby, the dead were either burnt on a pyre or buried in the forest. The families had the last saying, though a lot depended on the weather too. Vanya had been burnt because the ground had been too frozen to dig a grave. Besides, the Gods welcomed any man who wasn't wicked in their homes, didn't they?

But if the Gods in Silvermark were different from those in The Greenlands, then he had to do something for the Princess. She shouldn't suffer in the seven hells for all eternity.

He painted a picture of a burning arrow in his head. It flew in a wide arc and pierced the ship's broadside, where the simple blaze turned the wooden construction into a burning inferno with smoke rising higher than the roof of Mage Tower.

When the King shot the arrow, he had nocked it up so high that it was bound to miss its target again. With a subtle twitch of his fingers, Fox forced it back onto the right course. His eyes followed every inch of the arrow's path until it bore straight into Panthera's thigh, her red dress catching fire instantly.

He smiled. Not perfect, but he had saved the day and the Princess' eternal soul.   

The two women behind him were complaining that magic must have been used, but their nagging was compared to the massive wave of relief that washed over the courtyard and the royal family. Many of the children jumped up and down, with a few of them clapping. Their cheering died as a strong scent of burning flesh swept over their heads. The smell of pine wood and the snowdrop flowers was too faint to mask it. Everywhere, people held their sleeve or a handkerchief in front of their mouths.

Fox pinched his nose, his memories transporting him right back to the ruins of Laneby. Roasted, sour meat. This was what his village had smelled like too. Only then, it had been Katla's doing and hundreds of people had died that day.

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