Harbinger: Fate's Forsaken: Book One Read Free Page B

particular grove for the
abundance of acorns, this particular tree for its thick cover of foliage, and
this particular branch for the angle of his shot. All he had to do was loose
the arrow, and the force of the earth would do the rest.
    There was
absolutely no way he could botch it up. This deer was his .
    He knocked the
arrow and leaned forward, squinting to see through the tangle of leaves. The
buck was giving him his flank: the largest target Kael could’ve hoped for. He
drew the arrow back and his heart pounded furiously against his ribs.
    In the thrill of
the moment, he forgot about the Atlas .
As he pulled the string towards his chin, the bookslipped out of his lap. It clattered through the branches, its
pages flapping loudly as it struck what must have been every single limb on its
way down. When it finally tumbled to earth in a heap of twigs and leaves, Kael
looked at the deer.
    It was too much
to hope that the beast hadn’t heard.
    He stared at the
tree, his meal forgotten. His white tipped ears stood like sentries, his wet
nostrils flared. His head spun away and Kael knew his body would follow. He’d
melt into the trees, taking all hope with him.
    He’d searched
for weeks and not seen a deer — what if this was the last one he ever
saw? If he didn’t fire now, he might never get a second chance. This was it.
    He leaned
forward and fired blindly. He tried to watch his arrow as it left the string
and whistled after the deer, but then leaves sprung up in front of him and
blocked his view.
    That’s when he
realized that he was falling.
    He followed the Atlas ’s path, striking branch after
unforgiving branch and flailing helplessly as the earth pulled him downward.
When the leaves finally gave way, there was nothing but the ground left to fall
through. The world went black.
     
    *******
     
    The first time
he blinked, everything was a fuzzy mass of brown. A few blinks later, he could
tell what was a tree and what was a bush. Slowly, all the feeling returned to
his limbs. He half-wished it hadn’t.
    His elbows and
knees stung. He could feel bruises rising up on his back. His head pounded in
protest. He felt like he’d been tied in a sack with an angry mountain lion.
    Above him, the
shattered branches hung on by thin strips of white sinew. If he could hear them
speak, he imagined they’d be swearing. He reached out and found the Atlas lying next to him . Remarkably, it was still intact. A
little crumpled maybe, but readable. When he tried to roll over, something dug
sharply into his rump and the small of his back. He reached under him and
tugged it free.
    The ache in his
skull made it difficult for him to focus on what he held. Three outlines danced
around, crossing over one another until his eyes managed to lock them down.
    Oh no.
    He brought it
closer to his face and his mouth dropped open when he realized he wasn’t
imagining it. He forgot about the deer, he forgot about his arrow, he forgot
about how much pain he was in because none of it mattered anymore.
    For there,
cradled in his hands, was his bow. Only it wasn’t a bow anymore: it was two
pieces of broken wood held together by a string.
    No amount of
mercy could save him now.

Chapter 2
An Unfortunate Twist of Fate
 
     
     
     
     
               
    This was worse
than being an outcast, worse than being teased about his skinny arms and mixed
hair — worse, even, than failing the Trial. No man in the history of
Tinnark had ever broken his bow. It was unheard of, un-thought of. Fate herself
couldn’t have devised a more wicked thing to happen to someone.
    And yet, it’d
happened.
    He was no
craftsman, but he knew it couldn’t be fixed. The weapon was snapped at its grip
and large splinters of it littered the ground around him. At that moment he
wasn’t thinking about how vulnerable he was, sitting in the middle of the
forest with naught but the hunting dagger at his belt. He was worried about
what he would tell Amos.
    A starving
mountain