Page 165 of Forcing Fate

Xzanth handed me the weapon, and I tested its weight. It was light and would shoot light arrows. I wouldn’t get much distance, but I’d have more accuracy with it. I eyed the crossbow with envy.

“Short bow first, Vy.”

I sighed and took an arrow from Xzanth, nocking it but waiting to draw, and looked at Rafe.

“Second target. Thirty paces out,” he said.

I squinted against the rising sun and focused on the target. It had the rough shape of a man drawn with charcoal.

“Head or body?” I asked, drawing the bow in one smooth motion.

“Body. Never aim for the head of a Shadow.”

Right. Lowers the chance of catching their magicked gaze. I exhaled and let the arrow fly, watching it as it struck the left-center of the target’s chest.

“Again.”

I took another arrow, aimed, and loosed. It found its place in the center of the chest. General Rafe had me fire three more arrows. All hit the chest of the target, but grew less consistent with each shot.

“Enough. Xzanth, crossbow.”

I held in my excitement as I traded bows. He handed it to me with care, and I admired the craftsmanship. It had a winch-assist draw, which meant even though it was a stronger bow, I could still draw it, being as weak as I was. I hefted it and loaded a bolt that Xzanth provided.

“Fourth target, sixty paces out.”

After a deep breath, I lifted the heavy crossbow. I was jittery with excitement to show them what I could do with the right tool. Pressing the trigger, I reached for another bolt without question. One was placed in my hand and I drew and took aim. Rafe shaded his eyes against the sun, peering at where I hit the fourth target.

“Sixth target. Some ninety paces back,” I called, then loosed the bolt.

There was a moment of silence as I rested the crossbow against my thigh.

“Zan?” Rafe questioned.

“Center chest,” Xzanth replied without hesitation.

I beamed, looking from Rafe to Xzanth. Surely that proved my worth.

“Tenth,” General Rafe called, standing. “Shoot the target, Vy, not me.” He smirked before walking down the range toward the targets.

I reached for the bolt Xzanth held out. The tenth was nearly a hundred and fifty paces out. I could barely see that far, let alone make a good shot. I winched the drawstring back and nocked the bolt. Taking a deep breath, I hefted it to aim.

“Lie on the ground.”

The crossbow dipped toward the ground as I looked at Xzanth, taken aback by the fact that the quiet man spoke to me.

“On the ground?” I asked, dropping into a crouch.

“On your belly. Like this,” he said in his dry, raspy voice. He lay flat on the earth, hands propped up, holding an imaginary crossbow to his face.

I mimicked the position, squirming against a stone digging into my hip.

“Be still.”

I sighed and tried to ignore the discomfort. Holding the crossbow up, I lined up the sights, taking care to make sure they were aligned perfectly.

“Aim high. As if he were raising his hands to the sky and you were shooting his palms instead.”

I took a deep breath and held it, trying to still the trembling of my grip. My hands were far steadier when braced against the earth, but I wanted to impress Rafe. I wanted to prove my value to his Tennan.

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