The male elf strode forward in black armor, his red cloak rippling in the wind. Dark hair, dark eyes. A face Rawn would never forget.
“You…”
Prince Anon smiled sharply. He paused there on the street and canted his head. “We met like this once before, and here I am chasing you again. Yet there is only you this time.” He stroked the pin in the shape of a horse, pinning his red cloak to his shoulder.
Nisa’s brooch.
“The road is clear behind you,” Anon continued, a mocking glint in his gaze. “Please run. I find the chase more enjoyable if you do.”
There would be no running. Not when Rawn had waited years to face his sister’s killer.
Kicking his heels, Rawn charged for the prince and readied his sword.
The infuriating smile didn’t leave Anon’s face. His body glowed muddled red as a charge of power filled the air. The ground rumbled with Anon’s incantation, and cobblestones tore free from the ground, blasting toward him like cannonballs.
Rawn dodged and ducked. More of the ground tore away, opening holes to impede him. Fair leaped and bounded at quick speed. Anon jerked up his fist, and a barricade of rock formed between them. Rawn kicked his heels, and they broke into a burst of speed. There was no hesitation or break in his gallop. Fair was one with him at that moment.
They had both been waiting for this.
Nisa’s voice murmured in his ear with the rush of the wind.Slay him, Rawn. Even if it’s the last thing you do.
Fair leaped. They soared over the barricade in a perfect arc.
Anon waited right behind it.
It all happened so fast.
Rawn saw only a flash of black, and a burst of pain tore through his chest. Fair crashed, and his body went flying. Rawn hit the ground hard. All he knew was pain. The force of the fall sent him rolling across the street until he came to a breathless halt against some barrels. Rawn wheezed for air, pressing on his chest for the wound he felt, but there was none.
Fear stopped his heart for a split second. Rawn pushed himself up, gasping. “Fair?” he called shakily, searching for him in the smoke. “Fair!”
His eyes locked on the rivulets of blood filling the cracks in the cobblestone. The soft keens of a horse led him to spot Fair laying on the ground … with a black shaft jutting though his chest.
“FAIR!”
Rawn scrambled up. The smoke cleared, revealing Anon standing above his horse. He took hold of the spear’s shaft and met Rawn’s gaze.
Anon twisted it with a brutal snap. Fair’s keening cut off, and he felt a brutal agony slice him through the center of his being. A sound caught in Rawn’s throat. A cry. A scream. A choking gasp for air. His entire body spasmed as the death of his friend tore through him.
Anon ripped out the spear. “You should have run.”
Rawn dropped to his knees. Dark blood dripped down the edge of the spear’s blade. He heard each drop echo as they splattered on the ground. The world seemed to darken around him with the pelt of rain.
Anon laughed. “You look as if your soul has died. As your sister did that day in Erendor.” He stalked toward him. Sparks scattered out with the drag of his spear over the cobblestone.
The mention of his sister carried him back to that summer day. The night around the campfire, beneath a sky lit up with fireworks. Rawn heard the merry sound of Sylar’s lyre. He felt Aerina’s hand in his. He saw Nisa toast to them as she laughed. That was the last day they were all together.
The last day his sister smiled.
“It’s true what they say about green elves,” Anon said above him as he lifted his spear. “To kill one, simply kill their horse.”
…if it’s the last thing you do.
Rawn snatched up his sword and swung. His blade clashed with Anon’s spear, and he parried the blow. Rolling out of the way, Rawn stumbled to his feet.
Metal rang with the drawing of Anon’s sword, and he grinned. “Ah, there is still fight in you left, Norrlen.”
Rawn attacked. The clash of their swords rang out with each meeting of their blades. But the fight had been drained out of him, his speed and strength stunted, as if he moved with weights on his body.
