Black Moon Draw (33 page)

“Naia, keep quiet!” Westley shifts, eyes on his father. “I do not know what else to do. You are his battle-witch. You can do something or mayhap he knows aught we do not about your magic.”

It’s hard not to panic and jump down to run screaming for the hills. I hug him harder and press my face to his back. The only thing worse than knowing I’ve disappointed the Shadow Knight: having to tell him it’s my fault his world is about to end.

Tears sting my eyes. I have no idea how to tell him the truth and it crushes me thinking about it.

The ride through the pass is the longest two hours of my life. I can hear the sound of doom – the squeak of horse leathers, ring of hooves on stone and rattling of weapons in their sheathes – coming from behind me and know I’m bringing with me the destruction of Black Moon Draw.

The emerald hills beneath gray skies draw my gaze when we reach the other side of the mountains. Instead of cheering me up with their sweet scent, the knowledge I can’t save them sends me tumbling into despair.

All this will be gone tomorrow. The place that feels like home, the man who makes me feel alive.

It’s not real.
My chant no longer works. All I can think about is how much this is going to hurt. If this is a book, or a dream, I’ll never recover.

We ride along the foothills of the mountains on the road leading towards the mile long walls of the city at the heart of Black Moon Draw. The walls soon tower above us, smooth, carved from the stone of the mountains. The sky above the city’s center is black.

The road leads to an entrance made of wooden planks wider than the trailer of a semi-truck. One of the planks is open, and I find myself peering around Westley to see into the home of the Shadow Knight.

Edifices carved out of the same stone as the walls, wide streets lined by lit torches, wooden doors and window shutters painted different colors. Even before we ride unchallenged through the entrance, I’m in love with the understated romance of the city. As we enter, I can make out the light filigree that decorates each façade.

It’s as unique and beautiful as the hills – except for the plethora of lifelike statues scattered everywhere. They’re are downright creepy.

Lost in wonder, I admire everything around me, except for the statues, not even noticing the lack of people until I hear one of our escorts muttering about ghosts.

It’s true. There’s no sign of life anywhere. The city hasn’t been vacated for the impending war; it looks like no one has lived here in years.

We follow the main avenue that wraps around the city, each lap around growing smaller as the spiral tightens, until we reach the open doors of a castle on the hill at the center of the city, directly beneath the eye of the black clouds swirling above. The castle has dozens of spires, towers and layer upon layer of levels, enormous, a sign of wealth unlike any I’ve seen in this world so far.
This
is what a castle should look like.

I could’ve lived here.
The thought makes my cheeks warm. Then the devastation kicks in, and I want to cry again.

I don’t, instead focused on the incredible world around me. The Desert Knight marches triumphantly up to the open gates of the castle without so much as a single Black Moon Draw warrior appearing.

If the statue-strewn streets of the city are dead quiet, the castle’s bailey and interior are downright eerie. We dismount and enter through doors hanging sadly off their hinges. At one time, the castle was the height of grandeur. Tattered tapestries depicting great battles hang from the walls, which appear to have been gilded at one point. Flecks of gold and silver sparkle in torchlight. The soaring wooden beams far overhead are almost white with cobwebs, and a thick layer of dust covers the heavy stone furnishings and floor in the massive foyer area.

I’m surrounded by the men of Brown Sun Lake, who halt in the center of the torch lit foyer. Three dark corridors lead out of this area while the fourth wall is behind us, containing the sagging wooden doors marking the entrance.

The temperature drops around us and fog clings to the corners of the ceiling. I shiver, grateful for the cloak and hood. My breath hangs in the air. The world is beginning to darken as night grows near, and torchlight alone provides visibility in the windowless interior.

“What is this?” the Desert Knight growls. “Where are the guards? The people?”

I’m wondering the same.

“Welcome to Black Moon Draw,” Atreyu’s voice is quiet, hard – and far more unwelcoming than I’ve ever heard.

I turn, crowding Westley.

The castle wall ahead of us morphs from a corridor entrance into a well-lit stairwell. The Shadow Knight stands in his black cloak with his boar’s head on the landing. His powerful form is still, his forearms chiseled with tension. The combination of theatrics, the Shadow Knight’s size, and creepy castle wears on more than me.

The Desert Knight’s men are reaching for their weapons. Westley grips my arm, less out of fear I’ll escape and more because he appears as scared as I feel.

“He will not kill us, will he?” the teen whispers.

“I don’t really know. He’s got nothing to lose.”

“Then the safest place to stand is with you.”

“Unless he’s afraid I’ll use my magic against him.”

“Where are the people?” the Desert Knight booms. “Do not think to ambush me!”

“There have been no people in Black Moon Draw in nearly a thousand years. Only an army, a Shadow Knight, and . . . the fog.”

“Impossible!”

“’
Tis the way of Black Moon Draw. The rumors of madness are true. Should you stay too long in the castle or the city, you will die or go mad.”

What a lonely life. My heart aches as I gaze at the boar-headed man, understanding even more what his sacrifice has been. Twenty-five years sleeping under fog, a constant reminder of the war he fought. Two decades without a home.

The Desert Knight’s eyes narrow and he glances at me. I have a feeling he’s ready to chop me to bits.

“The city is yours,” the Shadow Knight says. “If you can leave it alive.”

Silence.

My heart is beating so loudly, I’m afraid Westley can hear it. He’s pale, scared.

“These were not our terms,” the Desert Knight warns. “You swore to surrender in exchange for her.” Striding to me, he yanks me free of his son, his grip hurting.

“I have surrendered.” The Shadow Knight takes two steps down the stairs and then stops. “The city is yours. Black Moon Draw is yours. I promised you unopposed entry. At no point did I promise you the ability to leave.”

“Then you can say farewell to your battle-witch!” The Desert Knight whips out a knife.

I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the fatal blow to fall.

Cold fog chokes me like smoke and I start coughing. Everyone around me begins choking and coughing as well.

The Desert Knight’s grip on me loosens, and I pull free, dropping to the ground. The smoke covers everything, leaving a thin layer of air near the floor. I suck in deep breaths, trying to make out anything around me. It’s not just dread in my gut; it’s the sense I’m lying under an anvil that’s about to drop.

Something really bad is going to happen.

Someone trips over me and lands flat on his belly beside me. I recognize Westley in the dim light.

“We have to . . . get out of here,” I whisper to him.

He nods.

“The door is that way. Or was.” I point in the direction I think was right behind me. “Wasn’t it?”

“’
Twas.”

“Ready?”

“Aye.”

Taking his hand, I hold my breath and bolt to my feet, running toward the area where the door was. The sounds of others coughing and stumbling fades. I keep one hand stretched out in front of me so I don’t collide with the door or anyone else. My fingertips graze the wall and I slow.

“I don’t feel it,” Westley says and begins to cough.

I don’t either. Without releasing his hand, I move down the wall in the direction towards the entrance. The stone wall is cool and smooth – but there’s no door.

My thoughts return to the sight of a stairwell melting out of the wall, and I quicken my pace, not wanting to get stuck in a castle that turns into a maze. LF clearly loves some of the same movies I do. I have a feeling her version of
Labyrinth
is going to be ten times worse than the movie. Unable to hold my breath anymore, I release it.

The smoke is clearing. It no longer chokes me, the last tendrils tickling my neck as they dissipate.

“There’s no door,” I say, stepping back to look right and left.

“They’re gone,” Westley whispers, his attention behind us.

I turn to see the foyer empty. Everything appears the same – except there is only one way out now, where there were at least three hallways to choose from before. All that remains is the stairwell where the Shadow Knight appeared.

He’s gone. I don’t think it’s a good sign that he didn’t stick around to check on me.

“You think people really go mad here?” I ask.

“Oh, aye. The stories have been around for years.”

Not good. “That takes us deeper into the castle,” I say, nodding towards the stairwell. “Kinda the opposite of the direction we want to go.”

“You know this man better than any other. What is he doing?”

I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”

“He would not kill his battle-witch.” There’s uncertainty in Westley’s statement.

“Let’s hope not. I’m supposed to use my magic to stop the curse somewhere in the castle.”

“Do you know where?”

I shake my head.

“Then further into the castle of madness we must go.”

Neither of us moves.

We’re both quiet a moment longer. My adrenaline is humming and the hair on my arms stands on end. The electricity I feel when the medallion worked is in the air here, thick and heavy, like three thunderstorms about to crack open the skies. This is the source of the fog creeping across the world – the castle of Black Moon Draw. I’m going to ignore the fact that everyone who ever enters this place goes crazy or disappears mysteriously.

“You’re right. One way to go,” I say with forced cheerfulness. “Be nice to your battle-witch!” I shout into the castle.

No response.

“Don’t let go,” I warn Westley.

“I won’t.”

Together we step towards the stairs and ascend them. They’re solid for having materialized out of thin air as is the stone landing at the top.

There are three hallways to choose from, one lighted with torches while the other two are dark, cold, and silent. As creepy as this place is, I’m going to assume there’s a good possibility the unlit corridors lead to sudden drops. “This way,” I say and head down the lighted hallway.

“How can you know?” the teen asks.

“Because it’s the only hallway with light.”

“I see no light.”

I stop and face him. “You seriously can’t see the torches?” I point.

“Nay, witch. I see naught but darkness every way.”

Hope bubbles inside me. Maybe the Shadow Knight hasn’t gone mad yet and is trying to help me. “Either I have magic or he left the light on for me.”

“So long as you are in his favor and he is not leading you into a trap.”

If you use the magic of Black Moon Draw in support of my enemies, I will come for your head.
The parting words of the possibly now-crazy Shadow Knight drift through my mind. “I’m uh . . . fairly confident he won’t kill me,” I mumble. “We don’t have much of a choice anyway, right?”

The teen is scared, but doesn’t resist when I tug him down the hallway. We reach a dead end with two more options of where to go. Once more, one hall is lighted.

“Do they both look dark to you?” I ask.

“Aye.” Westley is uneasy.

“This way.” I tug him after me.

I can’t help but think the lighted hallways are leading us somewhere we may not want to be instead of guiding us out. Is it the work of the Shadow Knight I know I can trust or the battle queen’s spell that’s grown out of control since it was first cast? Salvation or trap?

“Do you hear that?” Westley whispers.

“What?”

“Someone following us.”

I turn around and see nothing in the brightly lit hallway. “There’s no one there.”

“But I can hear him.”

We stop walking and I listen hard without hearing anything. “C’mon. Maybe we can find a window or exit sign or something.”

“Nay, witch. He is almost upon us!” Westley pulls free of my hand and whirls, brandishing his sword.

“No! Don’t let go!” I cry too late.

He vanishes.

I stare into the vacant hallway, unable to see or hear him or the man he thought was following.

“Shit!” I start back the way we came.

A loud creak makes me stop, and seconds later, the stone at the tip of my toes collapses. Blackness yawns open, the hole too wide for me to jump.

“Okay. Someone clearly wants me to go the other way.” There are no cameras in this world, but I look for them anyway in the corners of the rafters far above. Focused on breathing steadily, I face the direction the castle is herding me and start forward once more. “If you can hear me, please don’t hurt Westley. He helped me. He’s not your enemy.”
Except for the whole conspiracy issue.
It seems rather minor right now, given my current situation.

It’s quiet and bright yet still creepy, the fog hanging in the shadows of the ceiling as if waiting for the chance to pounce.

I don’t move for a long moment, thoughts in turmoil. I don’t want Westley to die here, but how do I help him if he’s invisible, trapped somewhere in this creepy castle? I’m supposed to face the curse and help the Shadow Knight defeat it.

“Maybe I am supposed to be here now,” I say, the sound of my voice helping me focus. “Find Atreyu, stop the curse, save the world.”
With what magic?
asks my self-doubt. “One thing at a time,” I reply.

I start forward again, scared of what I’ll find and terrified of screwing up. My shallow breathing is the only sound in the hall.