Chương 81: The White Arrow

The arrow was found before full sunrise. Embedded in the bark of a black pine, fifty paces from the outer palisade. Too clean. Too white. Too visible. Saeva stared at it without touching it. Odran sniffed the air around the trunk, then growled a sentence in the clan tongue. Narek translated for Zayn, far too proud of being able to do it:"He says it stinks like a trap." Zayn studied the arrow from a few steps away, half-mask on his face, the small black wood fragment hanging from the strap.

"I'm deeply reassured. Trees get suspicious mail here too." Saeva did not smile. She pulled the arrow free with a cloth, never with her bare hand, then held it up to the light. The tip was fine, elegant, almost beautiful. The fletching was white, perfectly cut. A mark had been carved into the shaft: a leaf pierced by a curved line. Korr arrived behind them. He did not ask what it was. He only looked at the arrow. Then at Zayn.

"Human."

"I love when conversations start with my species. It really puts everyone at ease."

"Do you know it?" Zayn took the arrow carefully. He did not recognize the object. But he recognized the intention. Someone wanted this arrow to be seen. Someone wanted them to think: elf. Too fast. Too easily.

"I don't know enough about elves to say whether it's theirs," he replied.

"But I know enough about dangerous people to say one thing." Saeva narrowed her eyes.

"What?" Zayn handed the arrow back.

"When evidence wants to be seen, it's already half lying." The silence was immediate. Then a cry rose from the western treeline. Not human. Not from the clan. A short, strangled scream. Saeva moved first. Odran followed. Narek took a step. Korr caught him by the collar without even looking at him.

"No."

"But—""No." Zayn had already started running. Not fast. But properly. His leg held. Brakka had performed miracles with a great many insults. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Korr growled:"Human!" Zayn did not look back.

"If it's a trap for me, the trap might as well see the guest of honor!" Saeva cursed ahead. Odran accelerated. Narek took advantage of the half-second Korr spent watching Zayn, tore free from his grip, and ran after them. Korr roared his name. Too late. The gray-eared boy was already in the trees. Zayn saw him pass on his right.

"You're really bad at survival!"

"So are you!"

"For me it's professional!" The forest swallowed them. They found the body at the edge of a ravine. A wolfman scout. Not dead. Not yet. A white arrow buried in his shoulder, a second in his thigh. His blood was spilling too fast, but his eyes were open. Saeva dropped to one knee beside him.

"Speak." The scout tried to breathe.

"Whites… in the trees…" Then his throat tightened. Zayn saw the problem before the others. The arrow in the shoulder was moving. Not the arrow. Something beneath the skin.

"Back!" Saeva looked up. Too late. The flesh around the point burst open. Pale filaments shot out of the wound like living roots. Saeva cut the first ones apart with a sweep of her spear, but more coiled around the scout's arm. The man screamed. Odran stepped in. The savage pressure around him exploded, heavy, brutal, alive. Not a spell. Not light. His aura hit the air like an open maw. The filaments recoiled. For one second only.

Zayn grabbed Narek by the shoulder and threw him backward just as a third white arrow came out of the trees. It passed through the space where the boy's throat had been a heartbeat earlier. Narek hit the mud.

"Don't move, half-made little brother!"

"I—""Don't move!" This time, he obeyed. Saeva had already vanished into the branches. A high-pitched shriek rang out above them. Then a body dropped. Not an elf. Not exactly. The creature had a humanoid silhouette, thin, too long, covered in pale skin stretched over black muscle. Its face wore a white wooden mask. Its hands had three fingers, each gripping a fine bow. Value: 32 It got back up too quickly. Zayn felt his stomach tighten. This was not a real warrior. It was a tool. A thing made to leave a trace.

The creature fired. Zayn activated Flesh Assimilation on his forearm. Plate. Small. Stable. The arrow struck his arm, deflected, and opened the skin under the plate without piercing through. Sharp pain. Bearable. He smiled anyway.

"Six beats, huh." The creature turned its mask toward him. Then it spoke. Not with a natural voice. With several thin voices layered together.

"The demonic human must be returned." Saeva landed behind it.

"To whom?" The thing replied:"To the white woods." Saeva attacked. The creature dodged the first strike, but Odran came in from the flank like a living wall. His axe shattered the bow in two. The thing retreated toward the ravine. Zayn saw the movement. It wanted to fall. No. To escape below. He threw himself at it. Bad idea. Which meant it was probably the only one available. The creature raised a hand. Pale filaments burst from its fingers and struck his mask. The wood vibrated. A sweet smell spread out. Elves.

Too strong. Too perfect. A scent of white leaves, clear sap, and clean magic. Zayn growled:"You're playing this very badly." The creature tilted its head.

"The clan will fall for keeping you." Narek pushed himself up behind them.

"What?" The creature instantly turned its white mask toward him. Zayn felt the direction of the next strike before he saw the weapon. Not an arrow. A filament. He activated claws. Two fingers only. He lunged, caught the filament in mid-flight, and felt the flesh of his hand open almost to the bone. But the filament was deflected. It missed Narek. Odran roared. His axe cut through the creature's torso. Saeva drove her spear into its knee. Zayn, meanwhile, got under the mask. Not with a blade.

With his clawed fingers. He tore the white mask away. Behind it, there was no face. Only a sewn mouth. And on the black tongue hanging between the stitches, a tiny eye-shaped mark. The thing tried to laugh. Zayn crushed its throat with a rock. [Soul Strength absorbed: +1] Current Soul Strength: 57 The heat flowed in. Weak. Dirty. The creature collapsed. The filaments in the scout's wounds shriveled at once. Saeva rushed to him.

"He's alive?" Odran laid a hand on the man's neck. A silence. Then he nodded. Not dead. Not yet. Narek came closer to Zayn, eyes fixed on the creature.

"Was that an elf?" Zayn looked at the white mask in his hand. Then the sewn tongue. Then the eye-mark, already blackening and fading away.

"No." Saeva turned a hard look on him.

"You're sure?"

"No. But someone wants you to be." Narek swallowed hard.

"Why?" Zayn looked west, where the trees grew denser. The wind passed through the branches. Somewhere farther away, another white arrow might already be buried in another tree.

"Because if the clan believes elves are circling because of me," he said, "then keeping me becomes dangerous." Saeva tore the mask from his hand.

"You were already dangerous." Zayn lowered his eyes to his bleeding hand. The claws were gone. The pain remained.

"Yes." Then he looked at Narek. The boy was still trembling, though he was trying not to show it. Zayn wanted to insult him. Something normal. Something that would put the world back in place. But the creature's words came back. The clan will fall for keeping you. And for the first time in a long while, Zayn was not hungry. He was afraid. Not for himself. Which was far worse. Above them, a horn sounded from the camp. Once. Then twice. Korr was calling the hunters back. Saeva lifted her head.

"We're going back." Odran lifted the wounded scout. Narek moved as if to help. Zayn caught his wrist.

"You stay behind me." The boy stared at him.

"I can walk."

"I didn't ask." Narek opened his mouth, then shut it again. They headed back toward the camp with the wounded body, the white mask, a too-clean arrow, and proof that lied too well. Behind them, in the trees, something very far away watched the empty ravine. Then vanished. This time, the wolf-dogs caught a scent. Too late.