Page 11 of The Heartless Archer

Noora tried not to think of the forest and the strange feeling she had sensed while walking through it. Like walking through a graveyard. “I got lucky, I guess. What do you think caused this?”

Now the woman looked almost fearful as her graying eyes darted around the market.

“It is rumored that the royal family has fallen ill. Their connection to the land is the only logical explanation. The queen must be dying for the land to be this miserable. But do not run your mouth about this, any doubt about the royals will end you in treason, girl. Now go.”

“But if—” Madam Van Dijk didn’t let her continue. “Go. Off.” She shooed her hands at her, golden bracelets clinking on her fragile wrists.

Noora sighed but decided not to further investigate as she turned on her heel to leave the stand. She had her gold. Still, something tugged at her stomach and she turned around to see the Madam had gone back to knitting.

“Van Dijk!”

The woman looked up, squinting her eyes at the retreating form of the girl.

“I would’ve sold for twenty Gulls.” Her lips spread into an easy grin. She didn’t expect the wink of the Madam at her. “I would’ve given you seventy.”

Noora’s lips parted in surprise before she stumbled over something and the world fell apart.

Thanks to her quick reflexes she managed not to land and damage her knees but rather roll off onto her side. Small stones dug into her palms which scuffed open by the hard ground beneath her. What happened?

Noora was never clumsy or unaware of her surroundings. Covered in dust and mud she turned to balance herself on her elbows. She squinted against the burning sun, to see three figures looming above her.

“Who do we have here?”

Goosebumps rushed over her spine like needles at the grating voice. He stepped to the right to block the sun, revealing a cruel grin. A freckled face stared down at her, a head full of blonde greasy strands and wide shoulders, wide enough to hide his scarce-looking friends.

The boy squatted down in front of her and ripped the lilac satchel from her belt. Throwing it up and catching it in his hands, he grinned. His two front teeth were too large for his face, though it was not why Noora started to glare the second she recognised him.

The face of the devil belonged to no other than Isak Pedersen.

“The half-blood whore made some good investment it seems, pity, now it’s mine.” He got back up and Noora quickly followed him, hating to be somewhat at a disadvantage.

“That is mine, give it back to me,” she seethed. Isak looked at his two followers before they broke out into hollering laughter. Noora’s hands formed two fists at her sides as she watched them. Her body had an instant fight or flight reactionevery time she came into contact with these three. They often lingered by the orphanage but she was only forced to share a space longer with them than one hour on Sundays, during church.

They were locals of the town, Isak’s father was known for his import ships at the haven, selling flour and spices to the east Kingdom.

“Do you not know? Gulls are the currency of Oy Frossen and therefore of its population, you are hardly that.”

“I am from Oy Frossen just as you are,” she threw back. Isak’s words no longer stung when he threw them at her. She had developed a thick skin after everything she had to fight against.

“Is that so? I could’ve sworn…” he trailed off before he yanked at her moon-white hair.

“Is this not the hair of a witch? The skin?” Noora bit her tongue when his hand wound around her wrist, to show his friends her pale skin. His grip wound tighter and tighter until she had to cry out in pain.

He shoved her to her knees. “You are not from Oy Frossen, you were sent from the Abyss and you are just lucky that the Sosye haven’t hunted you down yet, you whore.”

He spit on the ground before her. His friends broke back into laughter. The sound screeched high like excited hyenas.

“Remember the time we made you eat the deliciously ground of Oy Frossen to get some of its essence into your veins? That was a delightful day,” he taunted.

He was provoking her, he wanted her to lose her temper since Isak knew he had the upper hand. Noora was strong and knew how to hunt, but her physical power was nothing against his political one.

She was barely tolerated here. And despite what Isak said, what he knew her to be, he was wrong. She never showed anycharacteristics of being a witch, no spells or powers. Nothing. The longer she suppressed it the more she believed it herself. She was connected to nature and that was it.

Isak bowed down again, tilting his head at her. “Maybe we should track down your freckled friend and make her watch you eat it.”

“She should eat too!” One of his friends, Noa, chimed in. Aksel quickly followed, his elongated face turning into an excited grimace. “After we beat her black and blue.”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Noora almost bared her teeth at them at the mention of Lulva.

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