Page 63 of An Archer's Reckoning

Fire leaps from their palms.

In moments, the ancient town is ablaze.

Archers bar the gates. None may leave.

An old man, hobbled by age, staggers forward. His thin robe is torn and edged with sooty blackness. His eyes are desperate. Angry bolts tear through him, one after the other, until he falls atop the rising heap of those who had sought mercy before him.

Mages ring the Rangers’ Compound.

Their hands lift toward the sky.

Their bellowing chorus rises above destruction’s roar.

Blue-white flame erupts from their palms and blasts through the ancient structure.

The roar is deafening, the flare blinding.

The building falls.

I tried to block out the screams of Rangers trapped inside the inferno.

I covered my mouth and nose, desperate to keep the stench of death from my lungs as scorched flesh and charred pine floated on billowing black smoke.

The Mages finally tire and lose their fury.

Nothing remains of Melucia’s ancient Order of Rangers.

The scene shifted again.

Soldiers fade back into the forest.

Mages retreat.

A lone man strides through the lifeless town.

He stops and turns as if listening. Yes, he heard something—or someone.

He rolls his shoulders and grips his bloodthirsty sword, then creeps toward the mysterious sound.

A house has survived the flames.

With a powerful kick, he wrenches the door from its hinges. His quarry cowers on the floor before him.

A mother, her weeping child clutched tightly, begs for mercy.

His sword offers none.

My eyes opened to find Órlastaring down from my chest as I lay on my back in the snow. I felt the back of my head, and my numb, ungloved hand came away wet with blood.

“Are you all right? You hit your head pretty hard when you fell.”

Bile was sour in my mouth.

I sat up slowly, trying to make my head stop swimming.“Yeah, I think so. I had another vision. This time it wasn’t the future.”

“I know. I can see them with you now.”Her voice carried little joy in our newly shared Gift.

I reached into my pack and drank deeply of the healing wine, then braced myself against the door as I gained my feet. Images from the vision flooded my mind. A maelstrom of grief and anger welled within my chest. I turned away from the door, forcing myself to take in the town’s devastation again.

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