Project: Shadow Walker. Dalin Moss
Читать онлайн книгу.
crisp rabbit. She poked at its belly and her fingertip turned black after touching the burnt flesh. She smelled the animal; the sour scent of smoke filled her nostrils.
“You’re not much of a cook, are you?” The vibrations from Emma’s voice reverberated through her whiplashed neck, a reminder that the Hero in front of her was an enemy.
A genuine smile grew on the Hero. His face and body seemed to relax, causing Emma to also relax before she realized and tensed her shoulders again.
“I gave you the better one. My hare was mostly ash. I ate half of the spit before I realized the wind had carried away the good parts.” The Hero’s smile grew.
Against her will, Emma smiled. She was sitting next to a man who had nearly killed her, who had thrown a knife at her head, yet she was smiling. Her body still rang with sore disdain, but she had been spared from the freezing night, so she allowed the smile to stay.
Emma’s stomach grumbled, so she bit into the rabbit. The foul-tasting meat caused her eyes to water. She wanted to spit onto the ground, but she needed the sustenance. Her face must have spoken of the onslaught on her taste buds, because the Hero let out a low laugh.
Despite the horrendous taste, Emma continued to eat. She picked at her teeth with its bones once her meal was finished. The Hero stayed still and silent as she ate, his golden eyes staring at the flames between them.
The crackling fire served as entertainment as a silence grew. The Hero’s heavy eyes blinked rapidly as sleep threatened to take him.
“Do you really want me to take a watch?” Emma asked the Hero.
He looked up, slightly startled at the disrupted silence. “More than anything.”
The Hero stood and began to clear an area of twigs and rocks. Did he truly trust her, an armed stranger, to take watch while he slept? He would be helpless; it would be so easy to leave or cut his throat while he dreamt. But the Hero continued to sweep at the soft grass.
He sat upon the area he had cleared, bunching his cloak into a pillow and leaning his head into the cloth. And then, he closed his eyes.
Emma stared in disbelief at the vulnerable man. One motion, one quick slip of her sword, and he would belong to Death. It would be so easy—too easy. Emma’s body tensed.
“Why shouldn’t I kill you?” Her voice betrayed her thoughts, acknowledging what must be a trap.
The Hero shifted onto his side, putting his back towards Emma and the fire. “You wouldn’t be the first.” His reply was soft and groggy, as if sleep had already taken him. “I’m Jim, by the way. There are a few extra logs by the entrance, if the fire gets too low.”
Then, he was asleep. His chest heaved slow and deep, exhaustion overtaking him completely. His breath puffed in clouds of dragon smoke, reminding Emma of the frigid fate that the slumbering Hero had spared her from.
Emma stared at the fire as the Hero lay in the depth of unconscious dreams. Only leaving once to retrieve a few logs, she moved slow and silently so she wouldn’t disturb her companion of the night.
The Hero only awoke once, grasping at his chest with wide and fearful eyes. He looked towards Emma, the fear morphing back into calm exhaustion.
“My name is Emma.” She kept her voice low, barely more than a whisper.
Jim blinked, each movement of his eyes growing slower. A few seconds later he was asleep again. And still, through the remaining hours of the night, Emma watched.
5: The sounds of the forest
A bright morning sun greeted Jim as he woke from his restless sleep. The fire’s glow was low, merely embers surrounded by smoldering ash and charcoal. And the girl, Emma, was gone.
Jim rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t blame her for leaving. A person traversing the forest obviously had a destination in mind. It was only natural for her to be on her way the moment the dangers of the night were banished.
Jim got to his feet, stretching dramatically as he prepared to leave his comfortable shelter. He took inventory of his weapons, patting at hidden places in his cloak and shirt where knives lay unseen. Everything seemed in order. Emma hadn’t robbed him in his sleep. A lifetime ago he would have offered a prayer of thanks for this good fortune. But now, he shrugged off the welcome happenstance and exited through the boulders.
A vibrant world stretched in every direction. A lush maze of trees and bushes helped conceal the little shelter from peering strangers. That was exactly why Jim had built it here, years ago. The walls were strong, good for protection against the elements, and the foliage was thick, good for protection against the living. It was one of the many pieces of paradise that had kept him safe through the long winters.
“Oh, you’re up.” A voice sang from Jim’s left. He turned slowly, recognizing the melodic tones from his brief conversation the night before.
Emma stood near an outcropping of trees. She was holding her cloak like a basket between her outstretched arms. A smile threatened the corner of her mouth. She’s not sure if she made the right choice by staying. Jim offered a smile at the cautious look, attempting to ease her inner quarrels into a sense of delight.
The girl walked forward, a pleasant expression now radiating from her face. “I was hoping to have a rabbit or two for breakfast this morning. But,” she gestured at her cloak, “this will have to do.” She opened her arms revealing the contents she held: a handful of black berries, wild mushrooms, and one crisp apple.
The duo sat, sharing the crunchy berries and earthy mushrooms. Emma threw the apple into the air and, in a swift motion, sliced it in half with her rapier. She caught the halves and handed one to Jim, a boastful quiet speaking for her while they ate.
“I need to thank you.” Emma broke their silent, happy eating. “You could have killed me yesterday or left me to die in the night. But….” She stared intently at the ground, drawing circles in the dirt with her boot. “Thanks.”
Jim nodded. He understood the confusing circumstance that brought them here. It was always peculiar acts that made enemies turn into allies.
“How is your arm?” Jim asked. The bandage he had placed around her was peeking out from under her shirt collar.
Emma rubbed at her shoulder. “Barely more than a scratch, really.” Her smile faltered. “I suppose I’m lucky, because most Heroes wouldn’t have left me an arm to bandage.”
The truth of the statement made everything still. Emma’s words rippled through the world, hushing the wind and halting the trembling trees. Most Heroes saw humans as a necessary nuisance, mere stones to be trampled on by the boots of their betters. It wasn’t uncommon for a Hero to cut a man down for less reason than a squinted look.
Jim’s thoughts wandered into the forest, thinking back to that perfect place with its perfect people. A place he had called home through his childhood. Home, until She shattered the facade. Her eyes were green too, emeralds in a sea of gold.
Emma tapped Jim’s shoulder, waking him from his daylight memory. “Did you hear me?” Jim’s face remained blank in expression. “I said, it’s time I get moving. There are only a few good hours of light left.”
“Right.” Jim stood, shaking the dullness from his mind that he often got when reminiscing.
“I suppose you’ll be heading back to Paradise?” Emma’s eyes brightened at the name of the Hero city.
Every human wondered at what majesties lay hidden inside the ancient city of the Heroes. Jim had heard all the rumors: there was no hint of disease, fields of fresh fruits stretched beyond what the eye could imagine, every person who drank from the Ever-Flowing Fountain gained life eternal. So many wonderful stories, so many disappointing realities.
“No.” The firmness in Jim’s voice erased the childlike wonder from Emma’s eyes.
“So,