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“Well, it makes sense. We’re going to be staying here, right?”

“Right.”

“And Warriors have been trained here for, like, zillions of years. Right?”

“Right again.”

I gri

“No matter how pretty it is, you need to remember it’s a weapon. It can kill, especially if I fire it.”

“If you fire it and aim to kill,” I said.

“Sometimes mistakes happen,” he said, looking haunted by memories from his past.

I rested my hand on his arm. “You’re older now. Smarter. You won’t make the same mistakes again.” He just stared at me without speaking, so I lifted the bow again and went on. “Okay, show me how this works.”

“We don’t have a target.”

“Sure we do.” I thumped the worn leather shield he’d laid on the ground when I’d joined him. “Prop this between a couple rocks down the beach a little way. I’ll try to shoot it—after you prop it up and get back here out of my line of fire, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” he said.

Looking resigned and miserable, he walked a few paces away from us, hefted some rocks around until he had the shield held semi-steady between two of them, then came back to me. Reluctantly, he took the bow and set the quiver of arrows at our feet.

“This is how you hold it.” He demonstrated gripping the grip-thingie while I watched. “And the arrow goes here.” He rested it across the side of the bow, point down and away from us. “You nock it like this. These arrows make it easy to know which way to do it because the black ones should be turned like this, with the one red one up this way.” As he talked Stark began to relax. His hands knew the bow, and knew the arrow. It was obvious that he could do what he was showing me with his eyes shut—do it quickly and well. “Plant your legs firmly, about hip-width apart, like this.” He demonstrated and I checked out his excellent legs, which was one of the many reasons I liked the fact that he’d started wearing the kilt all the time.

“And then you lift the bow and, holding the arrow between your first two fingers, pull the string back, taut.” He explained what I was supposed to do, but he’d stopped demonstrating. “Sight down the arrow, but aim a little low. That will help adjust for distance and the breeze. When you’re ready, let loose. Be careful to bow your left arm or you’ll smack it and give yourself a nasty bruise.” He held the bow out to me. “Go ahead. Try it.”

“Show me,” I said simply.

“Zoey, I don’t think I should.”

“Stark, the target is a leather shield. It’s not alive. There’s nothing alive even vaguely attached to it. Just aim for the center of the shield and show me how it’s done.” He hesitated. I rested my hand on his chest and leaned forward. He met me halfway. Our kiss was sweet, but I could feel the tension in his body. “Hey,” I said softly, still touching his chest. “Try to trust yourself as much as I trust you. You’re my Warrior, my Guardian. You need to use the bow because it’s your Goddess-given gift. I know you’ll use it wisely. I know it because I know you. You’re good. You’ve fought to be good, and you’ve won.”

“But I’m not all good, Z,” he said, looking totally frustrated. “I’ve seen the bad part of me. It was there—real—in the Otherworld.”

“And you defeated it,” I said.

“Forever? I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Hey, no one’s all good. Not even me. I mean, if some smart kid left his test out in geometry, I’m telling you—I’d look.”

He smiled for a breath of a moment, then the tension was back in his face. “You joke about it, but it’s different for me. I think it’s different for all of the red fledglings and even Stevie Rae. Once you’ve known Darkness, real Darkness, there’s always a shadow on your soul.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Not a shadow. Just a different kind of experience. You and the rest of the red fledglings have experienced something we haven’t. It doesn’t make you part of the shadow of Darkness—it makes you experienced with it. That could be a good thing if you use your extra knowledge to fight for good, and you do.”

“Sometimes I worry that it might be more than that,” he said slowly, staring into my eyes like he was looking for a hidden truth.

“What do you mean?”

“Darkness is territorial, possessive. Once it’s had a piece of you, it doesn’t like to let go.”





“Darkness doesn’t have any choice if you choose the path of the Goddess, and you have. It can’t beat Light.”

“But I’m not sure Light can ever really beat Darkness, either. There’s a balance to things, Z.”

“Which doesn’t mean you can’t choose sides. And you’ve chosen. Trust yourself. I trust you. Completely,” I repeated.

Stark kept staring into my eyes like he was grabbing on to a lifeline. “As long as you see me as good—as long as you believe in me—I can trust myself because I trust you, Zoey. And I love you.”

“I love you, too, Guardian,” I said.

He kissed me and then, in a movement that was fast and graceful and lethal, Stark pulled back the bow and let the arrow fly. It thunked with finality into the absolute center of the target.

“Wow,” I said. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

He blew out a long breath, and with it the tension that had been so obvious in his body seemed to be blown away, too. Stark smiled his cute, cocky grin. “Center of the target, Z. I hit it dead-on.”

“Of course you did, silly. You can’t miss.”

“Yeah, that’s right. And it’s just a target.”

“Are you go

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay, here.” He aimed and shot more slowly, giving me time to follow his movements.

And the second arrow split the first one down the middle.

“Oh, woops. I forgot about doing that. I used to waste a lot of arrows that way.”

“Here, my turn. I’ll bet I don’t have that problem.”

I tried to do what Stark had done, but ended up shooting my arrow short and watching it skitter off the smooth, wet rocks.

“Well, crap. It’s definitely harder than it looks,” I said.

“Here. I’ll show you. You’re not standing right.” He came up behind me, fitting his arms over mine and snuggling against my backside. “Think of yourself as an ancient warrior queen. Stand strong and proud. Shoulders back! Chin up!” I did as he said and inside the powerful circle of his arms I felt myself transform into someone powerful and majestic. His hands guided mine to pulling the bow taut. “Stay steady and strong—focus,” he whispered. Together we sighted the target, and as we let loose the arrow, I could feet the jolt that rippled through his body and mine and guided the arrow to the dead center of the target again, splintering the two before it.

I turned and smiled up at my Guardian. “What you have is magick. It’s special. You have to use it, Stark. You have to.”

“I’ve missed it,” he said, speaking so softly I had to strain to hear him. “I don’t really feel right if I don’t stay co

“It’s because through it you’re co

“Maybe I can start again here. This place feels different to me. Somehow I feel like I belong here—like we belong here.”

“I feel it, too. And it seems like it’s been forever since I’ve felt this safe and this happy.” I stepped into his arms. “Sgiach just told me that she’s going to start opening the island up to Warriors again—and also to other gifted fledglings.” I smiled up at Stark. “You know, like fledglings with special affinities.”

“Oh, you mean like affinities for the elements?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.” I hugged him, and spoke into his chest. “I want to stay here. I really do.”