Priestess

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Hebock raised his axe but then its legs buckled. It sank to its knees. It tried again to lift its axe, but it couldn’t. With a sneer that Ara could smell, she watched it tip to the side. Three arrows. It had taken three well placed arrows to kill it.

Dazed, she saw another Hebock coming for her while two others charged Tenan and Coen, axes flashing. She lifted trembling arms to fire, knowing she would be too late. But Lodan whirled and buried his hind hooves into its back.

The creature slammed into the ground. Lodan leapt on top of him, stomping the last breath from its body. It was a gruesome sight. One that seemed out of character for a gentle-eyed Unicorn.           

Ara shifted her aim toward the Hebock that her brother fought. Before she had a clear shot, Lodan twisted, slamming his hooves into the creature.

As the Hebock lurched to the side, Tenan brought his sword up. His blade connected with the creature’s soft throat, severing the head completely.

Using the momentum from the same stroke, he thrust his sword into the Hebock Coen fought. Arching its back, the last Hebock bellowed in rage. Coen ended the cry by burying his sword in the creature’s chest.

Four Hebocks bled red into the earth. What had seemed an eternity, had only been a few moments.

Her arrow no longer needed, Ara released the tension. Though the sight would give her nightmares for weeks to come, she couldn’t seem tear her glance away from the headless corpse of the creature Tenan had fought.

Through his four lips his flaccid, pink tongue lolled. It was slit—like a snake's. She shivered, though her clothes clung to her sweat ridden body.

Coen removed his helm and bent over her. “You all right?”

She finally wrenched her gaze from the horrible sight to look at Coen. Light seemed to emanate from him—as if a sun shone beneath his skin. She gaped at him. She’d always thought him handsome, but now he was painfully beautiful. He was a Fairone! Coen closed his eyes and shook his head; the light disappeared.

Tenan had noticed the change as well, but judging by his lack of reaction, he already knew.

 “I’ll take her back,” Coen called to Tenan, who glowered at her again before turning and sprinting after Zehlin.

Coen jerked her to her feet and steered her towards the wall—his fingers digging into her arm. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re a Fairone!” she gasped through the pain shooting from his grip.

He pulled her roughly to him and hissed, “Don’t ever say that aloud again. Do you want every Kanovian Assassin hunting me down; as they are you?”

Too stunned to speak, she shook her head.

Dragging her again, Coen continued, “You’re not ready to fight with your Gift yet. Know this: If it weren’t for your family, I would abandon these people to their deaths to keep you safe! You’re too important to be stupid! Stay back!”

She stared at him, unwilling to let the fact that he was a Fairone go. “Tenan knows?”

“One of the few that does,” Coen replied curtly.

“I’ve never seen you like that.” Her arm twinged as his grip tightened.

“That’s because I’m careful.” They had arrived at the wall. “Stick to your bow for now.” He turned to leave.

Suddenly remembering, she called after him, “Coen! The captain’s wrong about their numbers. There’s an entire legion out there.”

He half turned. “I know.”