Huntress: A Paranormal Romance

by Alexandra Christian

  “Thank heavens you’re awake!” Esa rushed into the room, setting down the dim lamp and pulling clothes from the trunk at the foot of the bed where Thalia lay. “Get up, child!”

  “What is it, Esa?” she croaked, rubbing her eyes.

  “You have to leave this place! Quickly! You must get up and dress yourself now.” The old woman grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her from the bed. She was surprisingly strong, and Thalia stumbled to her feet.

  “Please, Esa. Just let me sleep a while longer. I’m so tired…”

  “There’s no time!” Before she could elaborate, they could hear commotion out in the street. Both women rushed to the window and peered out, trying not to be seen. Up and down the street, royal guardsmen could be seen pounding at the door of every cottage. There was shouting and crying as young women were pulled from their homes and rounded up in cage-like carts. Rain added to the chaos, throwing up showers of mud as the women were dragged along, most crying out and reaching for their families.

  “What’s happening?” Thalia mumbled, watching as a girl that couldn’t have been more than twelve was wrenched from her father’s arms.

  “I don’t know. It started at dawn. Guards from the king’s castle in Thane started dragging all the unmarried girls out into the street. By order of Prince Tristan! Now do you see why you have to go?”

  Thalia nodded and began grabbing at her clothes strewn over the room. She dressed quickly. “Put out the light. Maybe they won’t think we’re home.”

  Esa nodded. “You can slip out the back. Hide in the forest until nightfall. By then the whole thing should blow over.” Thalia groaned with the weight of the pack on her shoulders and pulled the cowl over her head. She nodded, but something told the girl she would not be back to Isling. She started for the back door from which she might sneak into the alley behind the house. “Hurry, child!”

  Thalia froze as the pounding on the door began. “It might be too late, Esa,” she hissed, pressing her body against the wall. Her hand closed over the crossbow at her back, and she felt around for a bolt. She wasn’t going down without a fight. “Open the door, Esa. Don’t fight them lest they run you through. My life isn’t worth yours.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it!”

  Esa tried to open the door slightly, but the burly knight on the other side kicked it wide open, throwing harsh daylight into the gloom. “Open in the name of the king!” the knight barked.

  “You’ve no right, sir!” Esa shouted, putting herself between the guard and Thalia. “This is my home!”

  “The lands and all the people in it belong to His Majesty King Christophe!” A tall man pushed the others aside, making his way into the cottage. Thalia was immediately frightened of him. His black eyes were cold and calculating. His hair was greased back from his shiny, pale forehead, and he had the mouth of a serpent. She cast her eyes down and saw that he was the only one of the knights wearing a chest plate that bore the crest of Laurenz. The captain of the royal guard. He read from a scroll. “All maidens of Osghast are hereby summoned to the castle for the Rite of Sheakhol. Citizens will draw to the capital in three days’ time to witness!”

  “Sheakhol hasn’t been done in a thousand years!” Esa protested, holding on to Thalia tightly as the guards seized her. “A woman’s sacrifice won’t stop the dragon!” Thalia struggled in their grasp as they pulled her pack from her shoulders. Her heart sank as she heard the hollow thud of her crossbow hitting the floor. If they got her hands bound, it would be over. Thalia thrashed and kicked, trying to keep them from noticing that she still clutched a bolthead in her hand.

  “Calm down, you crazy bitch!” one of the guards exclaimed as they pulled her toward the door. Thalia’s boots made deep trenches in the dirt floor as she tried to slow them down. She hated when someone could best her strength, and these knights were not letting go.

  “There now,” the captain said, running a jagged fingernail across her cheek. “Maybe you won’t be chosen for the crags!” The guards chuckled. Thalia used their distraction to wriggle from their grasp and lunge at the captain. She threw herself at him, using his size and awkward stance to overpower him. They fell, and she slashed at him with the arrow she held between her fingertips.

  “You’ll never have me!” she hissed. He recovered quickly from his shock and lurched forward, smashing his helmet against her skull and knocking Thalia backward.

  “Thalia!” Esa screamed. She reached out for the girl, but the knights were strong. She could only watch as they dragged the dazed girl from the cottage, hanging limply on the arm of the captain. “Where are you taking her?”

  “The capital at Thane,” the captain replied. His tone was teasing. “Don’t look so sad. Perhaps she won’t be chosen.” As soon as the captain cleared the threshold, he threw the old woman aside. “Either way, the dragon will perish.”

  Thalia’s head swam, and she couldn’t seem to focus as the captain dragged her across the muddy road. Screams and cries of young girls echoed in her ears. A knight took hold of her arms, jerking her away from the captain and heaving her into a large wagon. She tried to stand, but she was too disoriented and sat down hard on the mucky floor. There must have been a hundred women in the makeshift cage, some naked and others in their nightgowns. “Where are we going?” she muttered.

  A rugged farmer’s daughter hoisted Thalia to her feet and pushed her against the bars. “You’ll get trampled if you lay there much longer.”

  Thalia nodded. Her head still felt heavy from her daze, and she could feel a large knot forming in the center of her forehead. “Thank you.”

  The woman scoffed. “Probably better to let you die, but this way at least you got a fighting chance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re taking us to the capital for Sheakhol.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Kind of a spell, really. The king will choose one of us for a dragon bride.”

  There was a collective shriek as the cart began to move and they were thrown against one another. “A dragon bride?” Thalia said once she could stand.

  “It’s just a nice way of saying sacrifice. One thing’s for sure. One of us is going to die in the fires of the dragon’s belly.”

  Thalia looked around at the faces of the girls collected in such close quarters. She knew that it was unlikely that the king would choose one and let the rest of them go easily. Even if he did, Thane was a half-day’s journey away, and most of these women were peasants. They would likely not be able to make their way back to Isling. Most of them would probably never see their families again. Thalia’s stomach turned thinking of it. “Is this the future you were so eager to leave me with?” she whispered to her prince as the cart trundled away.

  Chapter Nine

  Thalia had a sickening feeling as she stared around the room at the crowds of girls gathered from the village. They huddled in corners and held on to each other, trying to keep warm in the dank dungeons under the castle. Most were dressed in wisps of a chemise, made even more insubstantial by the rain water and splashes of mud that had drenched their bodies on the way from Isling. Some had spatters of blood across their youthful faces and scrapes where they’d fought with the guards. Thalia was struck by the fear in their eyes. Some of the girls were so young as to still have their hair in braids. Her heart went out to them as she watched them sob, still shouting for their mothers.

  Sheakhol was an ancient rite that had not been performed in Thane for at least a millennium. It was said that the kings of old had appeased the Dragon Lords by offering a virgin bride each year at the Equinox. If what the guards said was true, one of them would be offered as tribute to the dragon that had been plaguing the kingdom. She smiled at the irony of her situation. For years she’d been the most fearsome slayer on the continent. The Huntress of Tarkin was the stuff of legends. How comical it would be for her to die chained to the cliffs outside of Thane as a dragon tore out her heart with its talons.


  Thalia heard a small sound behind her despite the din of noise in the room. She turned to see a small girl huddling against the wall. She couldn’t have seen more than ten summers. She looked malnourished, and her white blond hair was caked with mud. She didn’t wear a chemise like the rest. Her shift looked as if it had been made from an old blanket or shawl. It hung off her shoulders and barely fell to her knees, revealing bloody scrapes on her legs. A wellspring of anger rose in Thalia’s chest. This was obviously one of the unwanted children that wandered the towns, begging for food and shelter. Evidently the guards had just picked them up along the way because there was no one to protest. “She’s just a baby,” Thalia whispered. She wandered over to the girl and knelt before her. “Hello, love. My name is Thalia. What’s yours?”

  The girl was so frightened that, at first, she did not respond. Her eyes darted around the room as if looking for someone to be angry if she spoke. “Enke,” she said finally.

  “My name is Thalia,” she replied. She offered the girl a warm smile, and the child tried to return it.

  “I heard some of the other girls talking. They say that we’re going to be taken to the dragon.” At the mere mention of the word, the girl started to cry again. “They took me from the towns, away from my brother! He tried to stop them, but the guards were too strong.” Her words trailed off in a torrent of renewed tears that shook her tiny body. “Are we going to die?” she finally spat.

  “No, love.” Thalia smiled and offered her hand to the child. “Everything is going to be all right.” She looked around, standing on the tips of her toes to see if there might be some way to escape, but the walls were thick, and every iron portcullis had been lowered and chained. Then she saw it. A small, bent grate at the base of the outer wall. The opening was small, meant to allow water and waste to flow out of the dungeon and into the moat. Quickly, Thalia gauged the probability that the tiny girl could even fit through the opening. If she could bend the bars back just a little more, perhaps. She put a finger to her lips and began leading Enke through the crowd. “You must be very quiet.” Thalia knew that if others saw what she was about to do, all would be for naught. Most of the women here were much too large to fit through, and the guards would hear them struggle. No, only little Enke would be escaping today. Perhaps if she could save just one…

  As they reached the grate, Thalia knelt to whisper in Enke’s ear. “All right, you must stand here. Try not to let anyone see what I’m doing.” The little girl nodded, and Thalia turned to the iron bars. They were rusted and bent, making the metal weak. She looked around for something she might use as a lever, but she had no such luck. She would have to rely on her own strength. She pulled hard on the broken bar, but it wouldn’t budge. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see little Enke, her frightened eyes all over. She heard the child gasp and a commotion on the other side of the room as guards began to file into the room.

  “Thalia! They’re coming!” she whined. All around them, girls began to shout and wail. They moved toward the blocked stairwells in boiling masses as if they might hide behind one another and avoid the guards. Thalia used the confusion and noise to her advantage. She began to kick at the bars with her heavy boots. Over and over she pushed at them with her feet. There was a squeal as they began to give way. It was all the encouragement she needed, and she continued to kick in earnest. Uncaring about the noise, she groaned with the effort.

  “Hurry, Thalia!” Enke exclaimed. “They’re coming this way!”

  She ignored the warning and pulled at the loosened grate with her hands. She tugged with all her might until it bent enough to leave an opening just large enough for the child to wriggle through. “Come on, Enke! You have to go now!” The girl dropped to her knees and did as she was told. “Once you get to the other side, follow the trench to the base of the castle. You should come to a narrow ladder of stones that will lead you up to the aqueduct. You’ll see a larger grate there with great streams of water. Can you swim?”

  “Yes,” she said. “My brother taught me.”

  “Good. Climb through the grate and swim as hard as you can to the surface. The current will take you into the moat and down to the river.”

  “But… what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me, child. Now go!” She pushed the girl down and urged her through the grate and into the tunnel beyond. The girl whined and whimpered as the jagged edge of the bars cut into her skin as she wormed through the opening, but Thalia kept pushing her.

  “That one!”

  Thalia winced as she heard the deep, growling voice shouting behind her. She’d been seen. She could hear the boots and clatter of swords as the guard came toward her. None of that mattered. Enke was almost through. “Hurry, child!”

  “I’m trying! My leg is stuck!” Thalia looked down and noticed that the edge of Enke’s shift was caught in the bars.

  “Stop that there!”

  “Just pull it, Enke!” she shouted. The child did and pulled free of the grate just as the guard was upon them. With a final look back, Enke ran down the tunnel and was out of sight just as the guard’s fist came down.

  Thalia expected to awaken in a prison cell. After all, technically she’d helped a prisoner of King Christophe escape. She didn’t know much about the law in this part of the continent, but she was almost positive that the penalty for such an act was death by hanging. But as she struggled back to consciousness, she noticed that she was not in a cold prison cell but a bedchamber fit for a queen. Her head ached as she sat up. The guard had evidently hit her with some kind of object, and she was still somewhat dazed. A blurry haze clouded her vision, but she could see that she lay atop an enormous bed covered in a jeweled duvet. A fire roared in the hearth opposite, warming her body. The light was mercifully dim, but she could make out a mirror and a wardrobe full of silks and satin.

  Thalia threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stumbling toward the mirror. She groaned at the pain in her head and the muscles of her arms and legs where she’d pushed open the grate. She smiled, whispering a small prayer that Enke had gotten back to her brother; otherwise this would all have been futile. Her eyes focused, and she could see her image in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself. She seemed a shell of the woman she had been before Markus’s death. Her frame was thin and frail, and her long blond hair hung in tangles. Her green eyes seemed to have lost the firelight they’d once had. Defeat and fear had taken their toll.

  “I am afraid, prince,” she whispered to her reflection. She spoke to him, knowing that he would not answer, but it made her feel better just the same. In her dreams, though she feared him, he had made her feel safe and protected. He would lay waste to any who tried to harm her. The shadow of his form spoke of his danger and ferocity, but he always spoke to her so kindly. She wished he would speak to her now. She wanted to wrap herself in the protective embrace of his voice. Thalia couldn’t believe that he didn’t really exist. That he was just something her mind dreamed up to cope with a miserable childhood. He was too real. His voice, his touch, the way he seemed to know every one of her dark secrets—it was all too material. When she woke from her most fevered dreams of him, she could even still feel his body, still feel his warmth wrapped around her like the gentle rays of springtime sun. Surely some magical force beyond her understanding had brought them together.

  “I don’t know what to do. I fear that some terrible fate awaits just beyond these doors, but I can’t see it. Please… please comfort me,” she whispered to the dark. “You’ve always been there. Since I was a child, you’ve given me strength.” She couldn’t help it. Her words dissolved into bitter tears, and she sat down hard on the floor, sobbing into her hands like a child. What did any of it matter now? Markus was dead at her hand, and her prince had forsaken her. What difference did any of it make? Perhaps in death they could be reunited. She could taste his lips once more, all rose petals and ash. She could again feel the heat of his touch. “Perhaps death is better, sweet
prince. Would you like me better if I were dead? Would you return? Is that what this is? Some kind of test?” Her eyes were drawn to the fire. It blazed brightly in the hearth, an inferno so large that a man could easily stand up inside the firebox. There was an old Tarkinian legend that said that all slayers were born of fire and that was why they had such a unique ability to kill dragons. It would also account for the strange birthmark she bore on her wrist. Perhaps she was to return to the fire. To die as Markus had. But still, her mind feared the pain. One who had killed so many of their kin would be a hearty meal for a dragon. He would take his time and pick the flesh from her bones slowly, then crush them between iron mandibles. She was terrified. For the first time since childhood, she feared a mindless serpent.

  “I know that you can’t hear me, prince. Even if you could, you would not answer. But if only I could understand what I’d done to drive you away, I could die in peace.” She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling like a ridiculous child. She stared around her. If she hadn’t been in such a predicament, she might be in awe of such a place. In her whole life, she’d never seen such opulence. Even the vaulted ceiling overhead was laid with a filigreed tile that sparkled in the firelight.

  “Do you find your accommodation acceptable, my lady?” Thalia gasped, for a moment believing that her prince had indeed answered her plea. As she turned, her heart sank again at seeing what could only be Prince Tristan. She had never looked upon his face but had heard tales of his fine features and strength in battle. His hair was golden and shone like a halo about his regal brow. He looked familiar and might have been handsome if it weren’t for his mouth. A slim and sneering mouth that turned up in an amused smile, evidently at seeing her timidity. “Can you speak, or have they brought me a mute? I was beginning to think my guards had killed you in the process. You slept for many hours.”

  “Majesty…” she stammered. “I… I did not see you come in…” As an afterthought, she remembered to curtsey and nearly fell on her head trying to.