CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
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Kovey Walber
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26th of Decepter, 935 PC
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He hit the ground like a ton of bricks. Face splattered with mud, heart racing. The world was in a state of chaos all around him, screaming, crackling, sizzling.
“Wake up, Walber! Wake up!” Elgar yelled. He was crouched by the log, ready to move. His eyes were tracking something in the trees. No, several things. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Daggers. Where were his daggers? Oh, fuck where were his daggers? Belt. No. Pockets? No. Fuck! He’d left them by the fire with the whetstone. Idiot. Fucking worthless idiot.
“Get up, Walber!”
“I don’t have my daggers.”
“And I don’t have my bow. Make do.”
“How?!”
Elgar was off, over the log and heading for camp.
Kovey got to his knees, looking everywhere, seeing everything he didn’t want to see. Purple streaks of energy sailed back and forth across the disheveled campsite. narrowly missing Velvetine’s tent as she came crawling out. The muddy ground exploded all around her. She hit the dirt and buried her head beneath her arms. Oh no. No, no, no. Why was he doing this? Why was he here? He wasn’t a Purist anymore. He didn’t need to be here!
Elgar slid through the mud on a knee, snagging his bow and quiver in one swift motion. He came out of the slide into a stance with one knee up, one knee down. Smooth as smooth could be. His hand was a blur as he grabbed arrows, nocked, and released. Over and over again, anywhere purple came from, an arrow went.
Kovey could see his own pile of weapons lying near the rock he’d been sitting on. A casual stroll across the grass on a normal day, two dozen strides at the most, and yet it felt further than the entire trip combined to this point. No. Stay here. Let Elgar do the work. He shook his head. No. That wouldn’t do. He had to help. That’s why he was here. To not die wishing he was the man he used to be, to be someone his dad could be proud of. With both hands planted on the tree, he pushed himself to his feet. He put a boot on the log and prepared to run.
“Don’t you dare!” He spotted Belvedere coming out of the trees with Corbin. “Don’t you do anything foolish,” she said, pushing Corbin toward the log. “Just keep him safe!”
Kovey dropped down again, catching Corbin in his arms as the runt plowed into him and fell to his knees. “Kovey, I’m scared.”
He said the only thing he could think to say, “Me too.” Hearing himself like that, hearing those words and how pitiful they sounded, it did something to him, broke the lock holding back his courage. “Give me your dagger.” They ducked as a purple streak soared over their heads, crackling angrily as it sailed across the river toward the hill on the other side. “Your dagger, Corbin!” He started grabbing at Corbin’s waist when the boy didn’t move. “I need your fucking dagger.” There!
He yanked on the weapon and stood, staring at Belvedere as she waved her hands around, moving debris all around the clearing. There was an awful collision by the fire that sounded like a tree falling on a house. He turned to see a wall of wood and bark rushing to get in between Elgar and a barrage of arrows coming his way. The blonde archer ducked and rolled. He came up shooting even faster than before. His arrows vanished into the trees. Sadly, by the looks of all the purple streaks still coming from within the woods, they were missing their marks.
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Then, a big man in green stepped out of the trees nearby, bow raised, aiming right at Belvedere. A heavy dread practically pushed Kovey deeper into the mud.
“Belvedere, look out!” he screamed, pointing and running toward her.
The arrow released, moving so fast he’d only taken a few steps before it sunk into her thigh. She collapsed to a knee, putting a hand in the mud and screaming in pain. A second after her scream filled the forest, a far more blood-curdling one came from the campsite. A scream to stop the world. To fill the most stoic of men with fear. Velvetine stood by the fire, glaring in her sister’s direction. Even from a distance Kovey could feel her rage permeating from her body. Her hand went up in the air, high and mighty. When she slashed her arm across her chest the trees near Belvedere exploded into millions of tiny pieces. And just like that, the tiny clearing was twice as big and twice as empty.
A Lotus was revealed when the trees were shredded. She was running away from the fight, terrified and clumsy. Too far away to catch but she didn’t seem like much of a threat heading that direction anyway. The big Lotus was a brave one though, he had to be given that. Dumb as a rock, that’s for sure, but brave. Refused to run. Run idiot. Run. Don’t do this. Don’t make me do this. The Lotus didn’t run though. Just stood there fumbling with his next arrow, glancing up at Kovey as he tried to get his fingers to work.
Kovey glanced at Belvedere on the ground, then the Lotus, then Belvedere again. Lords be good. He took off. Slowly. He’d be moving quicker if his feet weren’t being eaten by the ground. Still, he was closing in on the tan-skinned Lotus, arms pumping, dagger heavy with bad intentions. He was within twenty strides before he knew it, even with the mud, but the Lotus had his bow raised. When had he managed that? Kovey stopped in his tracks. Almost. He caught a face full of mud as his momentum carried his round stomach forward too far to control. The next thing he saw was an arrow stuck in a piece of wood falling to the ground near his hands. Belvedere. Sweet Belvedere and her protection. He was off again, pulling his boots from the sticky mud. This time the Lotus dropped his bow and reared back two handfuls of magic. The blasts screamed like wild banshees as they tore through the air. He didn’t stop, didn’t fall, just ran toward them. And with good reason because each blast exploded upon striking pieces of wood Belvedere put in their path.
His shoulder sunk into the man’s gut, sending them both reeling and rolling through the mud. They grabbed and pushed at one another. The Lotus was uncoordinated and graceless. He had no idea what he was doing. Same could be said about Kovey but he was the one who found himself on top before his mind could catch up with it all. Made no sense but he wasn’t asking questions. Find flesh. Not the gambeson. The first punch ended with his fist pounding the frozen earth. He cursed wildly. The Lotus tried to bring his hand up to fire another blast but Kovey swatted his hand away, sending the magic off into the trees. Then Kovey felt a hand latched onto his forearm. A heat rushed through his arm. A stinging, burning heat that would have made him cry if not for the fury in his chest. Bones cracked and cartilage tore as he punched the Lotus in the nose. When his head cocked to the side the dagger plunged into the man's neck just below his jaw. He went limp instantly, mouth filling with blood, eyes rolling back in his head. Kovey let go of the weapon like he didn’t want to get in trouble for what he’d done. All he could do was stare at his victim. Ugly fella, looked like he’d been in a fight or two and lost them all. Ear all mangled up, scars in his scalp.
“Kovey! Help!” Belvedere.
“I’m coming!” The dagger grinded against jawbone as he pulled it out. Revolting but there was no time to be sickened by it.
The world was being ripped apart by Velvetine’s magic. Trees, rocks, even a foolish Lotus who’s ambition had brought her creeping out of the trees confidently. Her blood sprinkled the slushy puddles.
“Kovey it’s bad,” Belvedere said.
“No, no it’s not,” he said, swiping at the blood on her leg to get a better look. The wound wouldn’t seem to cooperate. It poured more and more of the thick stuff out every second. He said what every person says that doesn’t know what else to say in these moments. “You’re going to be fine, Bel. Just fine. Don’t worry.”
Belvedere grabbed hold of the arrow, making him wince at the thought of what she was about to do, and slid it out of her leg with so little resistance it was like magic. He was even more confused when there was no point at the tip of the arrow.
“What?” he whispered.