The crowd gasps as my arrow slashes through the dim sky, a direct path to their leader’s heart. I feel the slightest moment of remorse, and then a sinking feeling settles in my stomach. There is no hiding what I have done.
But it all happens so quickly, I don’t have time to think beyond that. Another gasp releases from the crowd, only this time louder as Siv Gareth’s hand reaches up in one fleeting movement toward the speeding arrow, faster than anything I have ever seen. In an instant his fingers wrap around it, stopping the arrow mid flight. For a long moment he holds it in the air, a trophy for all to see. Then, he slowly lowers the arrow to his side, scanning the crowd wickedly.
Impossible. How can a human catch a flying arrow?
My eyes widen, and I am filled with a horror so paralyzing that I can’t move. Or breathe. What have I done? Silence now surrounds me as Siv Gareth slowly strolls my way, the arrow in his hand like a child’s small toy. He stops directly in front of me.
“I believe this is yours,” he calmly states, as if he pulls arrows out of the sky every day. Arrows aimed at his heart. He theatrically hands the arrow to me.
There is no denying what I have done. I merely nod my head, waiting for the soldiers to take me away. I reach for the arrow, my hand actually touching his black leather glove as my heart pounds in my chest and I struggle to pull air into my lungs. Still, I meet his ebony eyes with mine, lifting my chin defiantly.
He speaks again, more loudly so the crowd can hear. “I am sure the arrow slipped, that you were surprised by our sudden visit.” He turns around slowly, gesturing to the crowd with his empty hands. The back of his cloak fills my vision. I crane my neck, though, peering into the crowd, and I notice that both of the Destroyers with him have drawn their swords.
“Yes,” I agree, mumbling to his back and feeling like a traitor, a liar…a lesser being. “It slipped.” I continue to stretch my neck around his looming body, scanning the silent crowd of dark faces. Searching with my eyes for only one person… Entho. I locate him standing directly next to Bello…the only two Light Skins in the crowd. Their blue and brown eyes flare, blazing in the dim sunlight. At me. Accusation and shock on both of their faces. Oh, Angels what was I thinking?
“Carry on,” Siv Gareth tells the Master Sergeant. He turns back toward me and his black eyes lock onto mine for the slightest second, then he struts with a purpose of movement back to the sidelines, all eyes watching. Judging.
With each of his footsteps blood rushes through my veins, and my head feels like it is about to explode. I swallow repeatedly, but it does no good. My hands begin to shake as they grip my arrow. Over and over in my mind I try to figure out what just happened. How did he catch the arrow? And why am I not being taken away to prison? Or worse?
“Bows up!” The Master Sergeant’s voice is loud…husky, and clear all at once as it reverberates in my ears. I am suddenly shaking so violently I can barely hold my bow. The arrow – Siv Gareth’s arrow – burns in my hand as if it were really on fire. I drop it to the ground and reach back into my quiver for another.
I nock the arrow, pull back on my string, waiting for the order to fire…trying to catch my breath, my chest heaving up and down. I am unnerved, unable to concentrate. Just then, a new thought enters my mind.
This was all done by design…I am nothing more than a game piece being moved about on a board where I will never win. No matter what I do.
Chapter 3