Page 3 of The Heartless Archer

He turned back around, staring into the amber eyes of his sister. They were gloating like hot coals, in such a stark contrast to her light skin and sleek, black hair.

She was the fiercest looking of them both but he didn’t need fierceness nor did he need anger. He was in power here no matter what.

“It’s not about something.”

Tyra scoffed, her eyes flying to his gloved hands. Before he could react, she caught ahold of his left wrist. He tried to swallow thepanic, knowing that she wouldn’t tear the gloves off. Her delicate fingers wound around the silver ring, her thumb swiping over the aventurine stone.

For a moment his body shuddered as he willed the picture out of his head, facing his sister.

She was almost as tall as him, they both inherited their height from their mother, which made it harder to glare down at her.

“She won’t come back no matter how long you wait, they will not find her because worst case she is already dead—”

“I dare you to repeat that.” His body tensed as his voice dropped a few octaves. He rarely got angry, he was rather the positive and kind sibling in their family but not when it came to this. Never when it came to her.

“You have to face the truth. Because even if you would find her it is too late. We need Ka-Hema’s loyalty and Aileen-Akamu is the only way to ensure that. Let go of the past, brother, before it dares to swallow you.”

She finally let go of his wrist and turned. Her hair flew behind her like a curtain. Her trained frame disappeared without another word. Slamming the door behind her. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak into the silence that surrounded him.

He couldn’t do anything than stare at the ring on his finger knowing damn well that his sister was right.

Chapter 2

Noora

She barely slipped out of the window, shutting it as quietly as she could, before the cold hit her face. A shudder shook her body as her feet collided with the ground. A mixture of melted snow and mud splashed upon her collision with the ground but she didn’t bother to be cautious. She couldn’t care less if the bottom of her trousers were drenched in dirt if she didn’t make it back in time.

The horizon was already tinting in a soft grey, soon the sun would rise and awaken the town. If she didn’t make it in time, she wouldn’t be able to set foot upon the town and she was almost certain that they would throw her into the dungeons.

So, under the slumbering sky, Noora skidded around the farm, trying not to wake the horses and cows as she left the small part of town she called truly her home.

Lukas would wake in a few hours and feel for the other side of his bed, noticing that the mattress had already gone cold.

He knew the rules, knew that only the nights were reserved for them and that the day belonged to the rest.

It wasn’t a far walk from the Skulesdatter farm to town, her pace needn’t be hurried and yet she made sure to jog over the small bridge that crossed the river av Livet and through the forest until she appeared in a side alley in town.

Usually, she would slow down at the river, and let the water wash away the night but she slept in today and couldn’t risk to be late.

The forest lay in solemn silence, the hungry wolves tracing inside still asleep, the deer and rabbits hiding in the curtains of leaves.

Even though Noora knew she’d have to come back later to hunt, she felt wistful. The forest was most beautiful in the mornings when the voices of the townspeople didn’t reach its depths.

The heads of Witch Hazel, Winterling, and Winter Jasmine were already poking out of the beds of snow as if they were waiting to catch the first rays of the morning sun.

Noora didn’t care that she left a trail in the snow, her hands passing over the bark of the trees that encircled her, as she filled her lungs with the scent of pines and the coldness of ice. Oy Frossen was one of the most beautiful kingdoms in Være as it looked like a world made out of ice.

With a last wistful glance, Noora swept into the town and its many alleys. She could hear the people waking up, doors squeaked open and windows thrown. Shutters banged against the plaster of the buildings as a soft breeze flew past her back.

She made it her mission not to be seen as she slipped between the richer neighbourhood until her feet hit softer soil and the gates came into view.

Black iron gates surround the whole house, pointy arrows at the top making it almost impossible to escape from the inside and invade from the outside. This building seemed to be better guarded than the palace of the prince itself.

But Noora knew better than to waste her time at the front. She slipped along the grid until she came to one bar slightly bent to the left.

She didn’t know who had damaged the carefully forged fence but she was nonetheless thankful for it.

Slipping through the dented gate, she made her way to the west side of the house that looked like it was haunted by the most horrible creatures. But looks could deceive. The only thing dangerous about the orphanage was the origin of the grey mush they served the children in the morning. And while people fearedmonsters surrounding the building the true monster roomed inside the orphanage Helvete.

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