Counting Dawns

Chapter Four

Evan sighed heavily. For the third time since he had returned, he allowed his thoughts to drift painfully back to the incident two years ago. Wincing, he remembered the look on Master’s face when he had found out about what had happened.

“You’re a disgrace, Evan,” he had snarled. “Get out of here. I never want to see you again.”

The words replayed themselves over and over in Evan’s mind and the boy shook his head fiercely in attempt to discard the thoughts.

“Are you alright?”

Evan nodded, and smiled grimly at the girl, who he had just met that day, seated beside him. She smiled back, large, oval eyes sparkling blue. Evan gulped and stared out the heavy-glass window of the coach, watching the green country fly past.

He had to find Grace; he had to! If only he had told Maribel the truth...Sighing, Evan dropped his head into his hands. That was the problem. He hadn’t told Maribel the truth and now, who knew what she was thinking of him!

“Are you sure you’re alright, sinee?”

Evan turned to the girl. She stared at him, confused, pale golden hair framing her worried face. Her low cut gown was daringly short, just below her knees and her white frilled skirt rested lightly upon her stocking legs. Evan forced himself not to look.

He shook his head wearily and then jerked to attention. Around the girl’s neck, outlined against her ivory skin, clearly showed up by the wide, frilled neckline…Blinking violently, he looked again. Dangling on a thin leather hide was an iron charm…in the shape of an eagle.

Evan stifled a gasp and tried to look like he hadn’t noticed. But the girl had. Hiding a cunning smile behind her cream-gloved hands, only the girl’s devious blue eyes portrayed the fact that a plan was brewing in her mind.

The coach drew to a halt and the coachman’s brusque voice called out loudly, “Red Cow Inn! All for the Red Cow Inn, Farthe’ting”

Evan pushed himself to his feet and carefully stepped out of the coach. The stifling, humid air of the city struck with a blow and he grasped the side of the coach tightly to stop himself staggering.

The girl offered him her hand to kiss, which he did, and then she clicked off behind the dark and fouled building by the name of the Red Cow. But she was not alone.

Evan crept on silent feet towards the back of the building. His dark brown eyes narrowed in concentration and, in a swift and silent motion, he slipped after the girl.

He found himself in a dark alley; the only light being a single shaft of sunshine that had snuck past the guarding eaves of the Red Cow Inn. It was by this dim light that he could see the small passageway that the girl had slipped along.

Evan cautiously placed his feet on the dry ground, stiffening each time his foot stuck to rubbish or unknown objects that littered the dust. He ran his hand along the rough brickwork, planning, strategizing.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped around the corner…and found himself confronted by the tip of the girl’s sword pointed at his throat. Anger seized the boy and he tore his dagger from its sheath.

“You don’t want to do that,” reprimanded the girl calmly.

“And why not?” Evan snarled. “I know who you are, Shania.”

The girl blinked, surprised at this piece of knowledge. Then she narrowed her eyes.

“How do you know me?” she hissed, voice barely audible in cold fury.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” retaliated Evan. “Shania de’Fontez: Gizrania’s most well-known and most hunted spy. I don’t suppose it would help your reputation if I finished you off: handed you over to the Patrol or gave myself the pleasure of plunging my dagger into your breast.”

Shania felt her sword wavering and steeled herself. I mustn’t believe him, she thought fiercely. He’s just making empty threats.

Scraping his throat with the tip of her sword, she pretended to consider this.

“I hardly think you’d get to that, my boy,” she said causally. “Besides, I don’t recall it fair for a man of your size to fight a lady like me.”

“If you could call yourself a lady,” Evan spat. “You’re nothing but a base-court scut!”

Shania was filled with fury. Leaping at Evan, she brandished her sword fiercely.

“I’ll teach you, you maggot-head!”

Evan sidestepped her quickly and brought a well-aimed slice towards her belly. She dodged just in time and swept her pummel in a full circle about her palm, narrowly missing her attacker’s cheek.

By this time, Evan was in full battle mode. He struck out with his dagger and at once felt uncomfortable as the sharp blade ripped into the girl’s navy bodice, neatly showing the white of her under dress.

Shania almost smiled as he backed away. Taking advantage of the distraction, she jumped on him, just slicing in a shallow cut on his forearm. He cried out in pain and recklessly plunged his dagger into her hand. She inhaled sharply and willed tears to her eyes.

Evan took a step back. In this moment, she seemed almost human; like Maribel even. Blood gushed from the wound, flowing freely over her pale, trembling hand, turning the dirt ground to a deep, crimson red.

There was a loud shout and a gang of Patrol officers swarmed down the alley. Their dark blue uniforms looked even more imposing than ever, and their polished black helmets reflected the dim shaft of light that illuminated the girl, Shania, bent over her hand, taking no notice of her white skirt turning blood red.

With no time to think, Evan whirled and dashed behind the corner. Hearing pounding footsteps behind him, he knew they were after him.

A searing pain shot through his back and he stumbled, falling to the dust. As figures swam before him, every fiber of his body urged him to run; run away from the mess he’d fought himself into. But the drug from the arrow in his back was too powerful for him and he allowed himself to sink into the depths of drugged sleep.