She Awakens Page 8

  I roll my eyes but do as he says. I strike the tree over and over. Soon my arms, shoulders, and back begin aching and it gets worse and worse as the day progresses. By the time Father stops me for lunch I can barely lift the sword.

  Father glances at my shaking arms and the tree, which now has huge chunks missing from it. "Looks like you worked hard today, I'm proud of you. Now let's get some grub." He takes the sword from my hands and we head back to camp for lunch.

  After lunch he brings me back to the other side of the creek again. I walk up to the same old pine tree and turn around, hand out, waiting for Father to hand me the sword once more but this time he puts a long thick branch in my hand instead. When did he pick that up? How did I miss him picking it up?

  "What's this for?" I ask.

  "We're going to train you for a real fight. You don't want to learn how to sword fight with actual swords right off do you?"

  I instantly have a flash of my hand being chopped off and vigorously shake my head. Father winks at me and lifts a stick, almost identical to the one in my hand. Father swings his stick at my head without warning but at the last possible moment I lift my stick, blocking the blow. I feel the vibration from the hit all the way into my toes. He's obviously not holding back even with just a stick. I’m so glad these aren’t real swords.

  We parry back and forth the rest of the day. Father has hit me with his stick over and over. Anytime I let down my guard, even for one second. He's right there smacking my arm, stomach, or back. The pain when he hits me is acute and fierce and by the time we finish, I feel like one big bruise. But even through the pain, I can tell I've made some progress today. Father steps up to me and takes my "sword" from me and leans it against the Oak tree I was attacking this morning.

  "You did good today. You take after your mother so much. She was a quick learner too." Hearing about our similarities makes me beam with pride.

  As Father turns and walks away, I ask, "Are you ready for dinner then? Are we done for the day?" I cross my fingers hoping we're done; I'm starving.

  "We have one more thing I want to get done today before we start dinner." Of course my stomach picks that exact time to growl. Both our eyes drift down at my stomach and laugh. Father then walks away past our little bridge, not crossing over it. I continue after him.

  "It's very important you know how to navigate new territory, even in the dark. In battle you usually only have a passing glance at your surroundings to figure out where you are. Taking a wrong turn in battle could be the difference between life and death. To teach you this, we're going to walk through the forest for a while to kind of orient you then we'll head back to camp and have dinner. After dinner I'll blindfold you and bring you back into the forest and leave you somewhere. Then you'll have to find your way back to camp on your own."

  This surprises me. "Okay," I reply. Father simply glances over his shoulder and smiles at me.

  After dinner we head out. Father leaves the blindfold off until we cross the creek, then the blindfold is on and he holds my hand as he guides me deeper into the forest.

  I hear Father’s voice. "Even though we walked around this area only a couple hours ago, everything you see will seem different when I pull off the blindfold. You haven’t been out on your own at night; things seem and sound different in the dark. You might get scared, but you can do this Attina. You are scarier than anything out here. Remember that.”

  It takes awhile, but Father eventually stops us. He turns me around and I think he'll take off my blindfold but he keeps turning me around and around until I'm not sure which way we came from anymore. When I'm good and well confused he releases me.

  I reach up to pull off the blindfold. "Don't take it off just yet, pumpkin. Count to one-hundred so I have time to leave and then you can pull it off and head back to camp. See you back at camp, pumpkin!" he shouts. I can tell he's already walking away from how distant his voice sounds.

  I count to one hundred and pull off the blindfold. This shouldn't be too hard. Yeah I haven’t ever been out after dark, but it can't be so different from being out during the day.

  It doesn't take me being out in the dark very long for me to figure out just how wrong I was.

  In the dark everything, exactly like Father said, looks completely different. Within the first few minutes I'm jumping at every little leaf moving in the breeze. All I can think of is there must be something in the dark ready to attack me, but I don’t hear anything except the wind blowing softly.

  After I get my racing thoughts under control, I walk in the direction I last heard Father's voice but it doesn't take long for me to realize I'm heading the wrong way.

  By now I should at least be hearing water running from the creek. I know all I have to do is find the water and follow it back to camp. Then through my thoughts I hear a soft coo which almost sounds conspiratorial. I think it must be an owl. I haven’t ever seen one in real life so I peer up, but I don't see an owl; I see a red-tailed hawk.

  One big ass hawk.

  It's so much bigger than a normal hawk, and as my eyes scan over it I see its eyes glowing in the darkness. Not the normal glow of predators at night but like two candles; and they are staring directly at me. I feel myself stop breathing, all the air leaves my lungs and a shiver pulses along my skin.

  All the bird does is stare at me; it's scrutiny planting me to the ground. I've had plenty of animals gawk at me throughout my years of hunting but this is the first time an animal has made me feel like this. I'm so frightened I feel cold, frozen to the spot, as if a bucket of cold water was thrown over my head. I swear it's sizing me up, but such a thing isn't possible; it's an animal, animals don't have such cognitive power. I'm not sure how long we stand there staring each other down, but I don't move until the bird moves.

  I instantly feel like a prey animal that just now spotted a predator, ready to pounce. The hawk swoops down at me, it's huge wings barely fitting between the tree trunks. His sharp dagger sized talons are extended, ready to grab on to me, and he's aiming for my face. As soon as the hawk takes flight I pitch myself sideways.

  I throw my arm up blocking my face and dive next to a tree—shocked because I don't know how I could have moved so fast—as I feel a warmth stroke my muscles. The coarse bark of the tree I dove into grabs onto my shoulder and scratches my skin. The hawk almost hits the ground before lifting off again and flying high into the night sky, disappearing behind the trees.

  I take a moment and rest there on the forest floor trying to wrap my mind around what just happened. Was that a normal hawk? No way. If it wasn't a normal hawk, then what was it, and what was it doing out here in this forest? I'll have to remember to talk to Father about this, but for now I need to figure a way to get back to camp.

  By now I should have run into the creek, at the very least I should be able to hear it. I browse around me and take a deep steadying breath. I need to keep my wits about me. Only one solution comes to mind, I need to walk in widening concentric circles until I can hear the water and then walk toward the sound and follow the creek back to camp.

  I walk and walk but all I hear is the rustling of leaves and trees swaying in the wind. I feel my chest tighten. What if I’m lost? How would Father find me? If I’m truly lost, I doubt even he could find me. I don’t even have a weapon with me so I couldn’t hunt for food or protect myself from predators.

  Then, right when I'm about to give into these thoughts and completely breakdown crying, I hear running water. It took me ten long circles to find it, but I did it.

  I walk toward the sound and it leads me to the creek. I follow it up and after what feels like forever I see our campfire. It’s almost daybreak now. Father must have kept it lit all night long.

  As I stride out of the tree line, I can see the beautiful pink and orange of the morning skyline. On the other side of camp the horses both sleep, sprawled out on their sides. I crawl into my tent and leave the questions I have for my father for tomorrow.

  I wake to the sou
nd of my tent rattling, as I am rubbing the sleep out of my eyes Raven pokes her baby doll head in. When she sees me laying down she instantly rolls her beautiful gray eyes and says, “What are you doing, it’s daylight.”

  I sit up, oh no, I’m late. Great, I’m late, and Raven out of everyone got sent to get me up. Raven shakes her head. “Your father has something planned for you since you decided you wanted to sleep in. Your mother never would have done something so childish.”

  I throw my clothes on and meekly crawl out of my tent. Father is sitting by the fire sipping on his morning cup of coffee after a long draw on his coffee he glares at me and says in his harsh incensed “you’re in trouble voice”. “This is the last of the wood, I suggest you hurry up and cut the rest of the wood we will need for the day, then get back here and we’ll start your lessons.” I groan and turn to start my morning trek, then from behind I hear Father whisper, “Today will be fun.” And it’s then and there I know today will not be fun.

  I finish my task and bring the wood back to camp. When I finish cutting and stacking it, I head over to the fire to grab some of the breakfast Father made while I was gone. He made my favorite, bacon and eggs with biscuits and gravy. I am about to take my first bite of biscuits when I hear Father’s gravelly voice behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I turn to glance up at him and say, “I’m eating.” He snatches the plate out of my hands and throws the plate and all into the fire pit. “You haven’t earned food yet, your little stunt this morning made sure of that.”

  “But Father, I didn’t do it on purpose.” I can feel the tears welling up. Anyone who knows me knows the one way to break me is to deny me food.

  “Attina, I don’t care if you meant to do it or not. It happened. If you’re going to do this, get your kingdom back and save your people, even something this innocent and benign is a big deal. You need to be a well oiled machine, which won’t happen with you sleeping in, no matter how late your night was the night before. Now get up, you need to learn a lesson about discipline, we’re going for a run.”

  As we run, I try to talk to Father about the hawk last night, but he shrugs me off, reminding me things seems different at night. I know he's angry about this morning but him assuming I was being hysterical last night hurts my feelings.

  We run through the forest for miles and miles. I don’t know how long we’ve run but by the time we make it back to camp my legs feel like two mushy stumps and knives slice through my lungs. I can feel every bit of oxygen filling my lungs, but no matter how hard I breathe I can’t catch my breath.

  When we finally make it back to camp Father announces while he walks off to pet Raven, “Okay Attina, take a break and then we’ll get back to the real training.” Oak strides to where I’ve collapsed by the back of my tent and nuzzles my chest. I grab onto his head and give him a big bear hug, my words failing me.

  As usual though, Oak knows exactly what I need to hear. “You’re doing great, Attina. Don’t listen to Raven, I know she can be vicious, but she truly can be loving. You will get through this, I promise you. I can see it in you. You have such a strong will and big heart, if anyone can defeat Henrik it’s you.”

  “Henrik? How do you know about Henrik?” I wheeze.

  “I was with your mother when she was his top slayer. Raven was just a baby when we left the castle with your mother, so she doesn’t remember much but I still do.”

  My jaw drops “What?” I hadn’t connected the fact that Oak must have been my mother’s mount. He’s a Fae horse. She was Fae. It should have hit me sooner, but this is the first time I’ve realized Oak must know so much about my mother. I have so many questions for him.

  But that’s the exact moment Father decides to call to me. “Okay Attina, time to get back to work”

  I start to get up gingerly, Oak puts his head down to help me get on my feet. I wrap my arms around his massive head and pull. As I get up I give him a few pets on his neck and say, “We have a lot to talk about tonight after training. You’ve been holding out on me, Oak”. I give Oak a wink and start off towards my father.

  While I’d been resting with Oak, Father walked over to the creek and is now standing by his fallen tree. As I reach him, he crosses the creek and I slowly follow. My body is so weak, I wobble back and forth on the tree trunk, trying to keep my balance. More than once I almost fall into the creek. Father leaves me and walks over to where he was training yesterday while I flounder trying to cross the creek.

  As I catch up Father turns to me. “Okay, now I want to see your bow skills”. From behind a tree he pulls out a stunningly beautiful bow. He smiles and winks at me as he hands me the bow.

  In my hands, the bow feels smooth and warm. The riser fits so perfectly in my hand that it could have been carved specifically for me. The upper and lower limbs are made out of a black locust wood and the string is made out of something so black it seems to pull in all the colors around it. It reminds me of Oak’s mane and tail.

  I peek over at Father and ask, “What is this string made out of? It feels familiar.”

  He chuckles “I made that out of Oak’s tail it’s 20 strands of Fae horse tail, the strongest material you can find on the planet, you won’t ever have to restring it.”

  The upper and lower limbs are carved to depict the goddess of hunting with her dogs and horses chasing some sort of deer I’d never seen with three sets of horns. I glance from the carvings up to my father.

  “Your mother helped me carve it. It’s the goddess of hunting. She’s hunting an animal, which represents all the things she protects—animals, childbirth, virginity, hunting, archery, and the moon. Each horn represents one of those categories.”

  He takes in a deep steadying breath. Talking about this memory is obviously hard for him, but then he continues, “I know you’re handy with a bow but I’d like to see how good you really are.”

  Father hands me three arrows out of his full quiver. I grasp the arrows he hands me. They seem like normal arrows but there is something different about them. I can feel it––Same metal, same arrowheads, same smooth pine-wood, but the fletching…something is different about the fletching.

  I can tell as soon as I run my fingers over the stiff, hazel feathers these aren't normal bird feathers. These feathers glisten in the sunlight refracting a rainbow of colors, and I can feel a warmth coming from them, which I've felt somewhere else before, but they also hold an evilness.

  I glance up to Father. "What animal are these feathers from?"

  Father tilts his head down at me, a quizzical expression on his face. "Just curious, how did you know they were different?"

  "I just felt it, okay? So what's the deal?"

  “What did you feel?”

  “Ugh okay, they feel warm. I’ve felt it before but I’m not sure where.”

  He holds his chin and nods his head “Interesting.”

  Father turns to me and points to the arrow. "Those are from a Fae hawk your grandfather’s Fae hawk to be exact, his number one spy. While your mother was with the Fae, she only used arrows with Fae hawk fletching. She told me those feathers make the arrows fly faster and truer than normal arrows.”

  “But for today's exercise let's use these normal arrows." As he says this, he pulls three different arrows out of his quiver. I can tell the difference right away, there is no energy coming off of these arrows and the feathers on the fletching is a dull brown.

  "Why did you hand me these arrows then?" I ask while switching arrows with him.

  "I was curious if you could tell by touch that they were different from regular arrows or not." He winks at me.

  "Okay, now show me what you've got, pumpkin." Stepping back, he points down range at a target. I hadn’t even noticed the target until now. Up in a tree on the range I see a stump dangling from one of its branches by a long rope. The stump has two concentric circles smudged in black ash, which is obviously ash from one of our nightly fires.

  I knock an arrow and smile.
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  Today I’d felt like nothing but a failure from the moment I woke up, now I have a chance to actually show what I can do. I can finally redeem myself. I pull the end of the arrow and the string to the corner of my lips like I’ve done thousands of times before, like James taught me all those years ago.

  I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wait and in between breaths when I am steadiest I line up my arrow with the center of the target and gently release the arrow. I blink for a split second and when I open my eyes again the arrow is stuck dead in the center of the target.

  I’d taken my time with my first shot mostly for show. I turn and glance at Father with a smirk on my face. In one swift movement, I turn, draw, and loose a second arrow, this one cutting through the rope holding the stump to the tree. The stump falls to the ground with a cracking thud.

  In quick succession I fire the last arrow. As I move, I can feel the energy build up from my arms and through my chest causing the bow to feel like it is humming in my hand. Without watching where the arrow lands I turn to Father, a big shit-eating grin plastered on my face. “Well, was that good enough?”

  Father’s jaw clenches and he has a strange sheen to his face, almost a green sickly coloring. I spin around as fast as my body will allow me to but don’t see anyone or anything around us which would elicit such a shocking response from him. I turn back to Father but he seems to have gotten his composure.

  “Is that normal for you?” he says, pointing at the target behind me.

  I spin around again and this time I see it.

  My last arrow was aimed to cut the rope tied on the tree branch in half making the rope fall to the ground, but the arrow hadn’t only stopped there. It had continued on through the thick branch until it snapped. Now, instead of the sturdy branch which was there seconds ago, the branch is hanging on by one last string of bark.

  I stand there in awe with my jaw hanging open. I don’t know how long I stay like that before Father places his hand on my shoulder.