Chapter 38: An Elf

The arrow ripped through his chest and he staggered backward, blood spilling out of the wound at once.

He looked down at the shaft sticking out of him, and his eyes went wide. He backed away with one hand clamped over the bloodied spot, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

I lay in the dirt and lifted my head. My vision was blurry and my body felt like it belonged to someone else, but I had seen the shot, and I had seen what it did to him.

"Tez?" I muttered. "Tez... you came to save me?"

It had to be him. Who else would come? I forced my eyes to focus on the dark ahead, and my heart sank.

It wasn’t Tez.

A woman was walking toward us, her steps calm and steady. Her armor was sleek and fit her frame perfectly, and her hair swayed with every step. A pouch of arrows sat on her back, a bow rested in her hands, and a sword hung at her waist. Her ears were long and pointed, and her emerald green eyes shone even in the dark.

"How does someone of your size take on a little girl like this?" she asked, her voice cold. "Where is your honor and dignity?"

The man didn’t answer. She pulled an arrow from her back, knocked it into the bow, and drew the string.

His face twisted in fear. He whimpered, and then the fear turned into rage.

"You fucking bitch!" he yelled, and then he roared into the dark. "Take her down!"

Men came out of the darkness, many of them, laughing and cackling as they walked. They looked like the kind of people you’d find in the very corners of the earth, with broken teeth and filthy bodies, frames that looked more monstrous than human even though they were still human. Blades and rusted weapons hung from their hands. I tried to push myself up and couldn’t.

"You don’t know what you got yourself into, you bitch," the man said, clutching his chest. "Kill her!"

They rushed forward all at once.

She didn’t move. She released the string.

Twang!

The arrow flew through the air, spinning, cutting through the dark faster and faster. It slammed into the head of the first man and burst out the other side. Blood sprayed in every direction, and he dropped before he could even scream.

The next one was already on her, swinging his sword. She stepped to the side and let it cut through empty air, then drove her boot into his stomach hard enough to lift him off the ground. She spun and hurled him into the arm of another man rushing in.

"Shit!" the second man swore, but his sword was already moving. It plunged right into the back of the first, and the first man went limp.

The second man was stunned. Before he could understand what had happened, she caught his head between her bow and its string. She pulled the string back with him in it and let go.

Snap!

The string slammed into his head and threw him down. She caught the bow in the air, spun with it, and smashed it into the next man’s jaw while her other hand pulled another arrow from the pouch. She fired into the heart of another man, and he fell backward.

I counted them without meaning to. Twenty, maybe thirty. Even through the haze in my head, I knew that was too many for one person. She seemed to know it too, because she was moving like she had to end this fast.

But most of them had already gone around and surrounded her. One came at her from behind. She dodged and slammed the bow into his stomach, sending him flying into a wall. Another swung a blade at her. She leaned back, but the tip still caught her arm, cutting through the one spot with little armor. Blood ran out.

She gritted her teeth and rammed her knee into him, then pulled out more arrows and kept firing. One in the neck. One in the shoulder. One through a man’s thigh as he rushed at her.

Thud. Thud.

They kept coming. Some of the ones she hadn’t killed got back up, bleeding and cursing, and rushed in again.

Then something changed. She looked down at her arm and froze. The skin around the cut had turned purple, dark veins spreading outward. My stomach dropped. The blade had to be poisoned.

Her lips moved. I couldn’t hear it, but I could read it on her face. Not now.

She shook her head hard like she was trying to clear her sight and pushed through it, firing again and again, slamming her bow into whoever came near. But she was slower now, and her breathing was getting heavy. Every time one of them went down, another took his place.

The fight dragged on. Blood covered the ground and bodies lay everywhere, but there were still too many standing. They circled her tighter, laughing, sensing that she was struggling. Her arms trembled as she drew the bow. Her eyes kept losing focus.

She was going to die. I was watching a stranger die for me, and I couldn’t even lift my hand.

Then she suddenly pulled out one last arrow. The tip began to glow, soft at first, then brighter and brighter, until it hurt to look at.

She shot it into the ground.

BOOM!

A massive explosion of light burst out and swallowed everything. I threw my arm over my eyes. The men screamed and stumbled around blind.

Then someone was lifting me. She had run to me through the chaos, and she scooped me up and dashed through the confusion.

But a figure stepped into our path.

It was my master, the one she had shot at the start, one hand still pressed against his chest, the other gripping an iron rod. His eyes were red with rage.

Before she could react, he swung. The rod slammed into her head, and we both hit the ground. I felt her go limp beside me, and I knew by the way she lay there that she had not expected him to still be standing. Neither had I.

"You bitch," he hissed, stepping closer. "You’ll pay for that."

He raised the rod high above his head with both hands, ready to end her.

Then a streak of lightning blitzed past.

Everything went silent.

His hands were still stuck in the air, his body frozen in the pose of a man about to strike. Then, slowly, both of his hands fell to the ground along with the iron pipe, sliced clean off at the wrists.

He looked down at the pipe lying in the dirt. He looked at the blood squirting from his arms. Panic set in, and his mouth opened wide.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"