Black Moon Draw

I feel for her, but if I'm the person she counted on hacking off the heads of every enemy the Shadow Knight has, she's wrong. I'm barely a battle-witch let alone the one capable of bringing every Knight here to his knees.

I hate the feeling sinking through me, the one of regret and insecurity, the sting of failure, even if it's not my fault I'm not magical enough. I don't like the idea of disappointing anyone. The Shadow Knight is better off trying to win his battles without me then running off into the sunset to live a perfect life with Disney Princess.

"They are battling over who speaks first," the squire whispers to me.

Blinking out of my thoughts, I look again at the two fighting. "Who speaks first?"

"Aye. Because of the blood feuds between everyone" - he waves his hand at the Knights - "they hold a match to determine who is the first to speak."

Like a deadly match of drawing straws. "What do they speak about? The Shadow Knight killing everyone?"

"Aye. He has defeated seven of the Knights here in battle. Brown Sun Lake has risen again to challenge him. Their feud goes on for a thousand years."

"Since . . ."

"Since the great warrior queen Naia of Black Moon Draw cursed their lands and all within them."

"I thought you weren't supposed to talk about that," I say, uneasy to realize how accurate my dream was.

The squire glances at me, and I see a glimmer of something I hadn't noticed before in his gaze: intelligence, thoughtfulness. The kid I've barely given the time of day is as alive as I am. I'm touched by the thought I haven't tried to have a real conversation with him, and he's tried his hardest to help me.

"I can tell you," he says quietly. "The Shadow Knight said so."

"But he can't."

The squire solemnly shakes his head. "'Tis forbidden, once a man becomes a full-grown warrior. To speak of the past before battle, after battle, or during battle is to invite it to reoccur. No warrior may speak of it."

I'm pretty sure he wasn't put with me because of his ability to wield the sword at his back. I didn't bother asking myself why I'm stuck with this kid. That he knew things I've been beating my head against a wall to uncover didn't occur to me until now.

"You can tell me what happened a thousand years ago," I say, turning to look at him.

"What is known, aye."

"Why didn't you say something?" I slap his arm.

He backs away, bewildered.