hill.
“She really is the Chosen One,” one of them yelled, fleeing the scene.
Shew ran freely into the forest, away from them. She didn’t bother gazing back at the dead she’d left behind.
“You’re bleeding,” Cerene said. “Let’s stop. I can mend your wounds.”
However, there was no stopping. One single three-eyed unicorn was chasing her now. She could smell his deviously beautiful scent. It was Loki, coming to avenge all those Huntsmen she’d just killed.
“Can you kill him?” Cerene asked, grabbing her shoulder.
Shew’s warrior eyes softened a little. She still wasn’t sure, even after all those she’d just slaughtered, “if I kill him, he will never wake up again,” she said. Cerene looked confused. “He isn’t like the Huntsmen. He is like me, filled with darkness and confusion, not knowing what to do with it. All that he’ll sacrifice for me, being banned from Heaven and saving me, will be for nothing if I kill him.”
Cerene had nothing to say. She wasn’t going to ask Shew about this dream she always talked about. She only sensed Shew’s reluctance for a moment and got off the unicorn, running toward Loki. Cerene decided she’d stand up to him, not to defend herself, but to defend the Chosen One.
“No!” Shew reached out for her. “What are you doing, Cerene?”
“My job, I have to protect the Chosen One,” she yelled, running at the coming horse. “You take care of me, I take care of you, remember?”
Before Shew could catch her, Cerene stood foolishly in front of Loki’s approaching unicorn, stretched out one hand in the air and yelled ‘Moutza!’
Cerene closed her eyes, thinking if she focused strong enough, she could create fire and burn the evil Huntsman.
Shew was approaching to pick Cerene up, not intimidated by Loki, but then let out a shriek as she glanced up at him.
She was too late.
Loki, angry Shew had killed most of his Huntsman, raised his sword at Cerene who still had her eyes closed, trying to create fire with her mind.
Sadly, he was closer to Cerene than Shew, who could not believe her eyes. Loki’s sword had landed a blow on Cerene.
Cerene opened her eyes, disappointed she could not create fire, and glad she wasn’t dead. When she saw what had happened to her outstretched hand, she looked puzzled. A fountain of blood squirted in the air. Cerene looked at Shew with pleading eyes, wondering if this was really happening to her.
Loki had cut her hand off.
“I told you not to leave me!” Shew yelled at her and bent over to pull her up on the unicorn.
As stubborn as Cerene was, she pulled away from Shew and ran toward Loki again, stretching out her other arm, and screaming, 'Moutza, you Queen’s Bastard!”
Loki let out a small demeaning laugh, and waited until the little ashen girl approached him.
“This first one was for thinking you could kill me,” Loki said. “This is for being stupid,” he simply chopped her other hand off, and rode away again.
“You little piece of shit!” Shew screamed at Loki and ran toward Cerene, trying to pull her up. This time Cerene wasn’t stubborn. She had that heartbreaking look in her eyes as if questioning how this could possibly be her fate. Shew pulled her up before she fainted.
All she could think of now was saving Cerene. Looking to the left, she noticed they were near the Wall of Thorns. She remembered when Cerene told her that each sleeping beauty in the Field of Dreams was a girl who had been killed. In order to live again, they had to dream and provide sand and tears for a hundred years, and then they could come back to life revitalized.
Shew didn’t know how to resurrect people through the blowpipe, nor did she know about the power of True Names. The Field of Dreams was her only choice to save Cerene. Cerene was dying in her hands.
To go to the Field of Dreams, Shew had to pass through the Wall of Thorns. Shew rode toward it, not giving a damn about the thorn bush. If she rode fast enough, she should be able to pierce through it. Even if she didn’t, she’d give in to the thorn bush and allow the unicorn to take Cerene to the Field of Dreams.
As she rode, she noticed Loki following her again, but she intended to be faster. Once she entered the thorn bush, a couple of thorn vines crawled around Cerene and the unicorn, sniffing them. They slashed slightly at them, and sniffed their blood. Finally, they let them go.
When the vines sniffed Shew, it took them some time before they slashed at her, tasting her blood.
Instantly they went crazy.
“Can’t you understand that I’m not the enemy,” Shew shouted. “Stupid thorns!”
Shew had come to a point where shedding blood had become really insignificant. She felt the thorns cut at her arms, her legs, and her face. It didn’t matter as long as there was the slightest hope to save Cerene.
If only she could ignore Mozart’s Magic Flute playing in her ears.
Somehow, she did this time.
Being seduced by music was only meant for the weak, not Chosen Ones when they’d learned their powers. The thorns had to do more than cut her skin to stop her.
Finally, Shew crossed to the other side into the Field of Dreams. Her dress was soaked with blood from every pore in her body
She stopped near one of the sleeping beauties, and eased Cerene down off the unicorn. She was hardly speaking. Shew located a free puddle of water and laid Cerene in it. She went back, undressed one of the girls in red, and dressed Cerene. She placed a glass urn to her right and one to her left, wondering if she’d done it the right way.
“Did I make fire?” Cerene muttered.
“Don’t talk now,” She urged her.
Cerene was already fainting. She had no more words to say, disappointed she didn’t live long enough to make fire. She held tighter, not knowing what else to do. She was waiting for a sign. Maybe she’d see Cerene crying sand and tears like all the other sleeping beauties, which would mean Cerene was saved.
“Tay,” Cerene tried to talk gain, her eyes white, not staring at Shew.
“Say nothing,” Shew held her face, trying not to think about the fountain of blood spurting out her arms. She suddenly remembered reading a gruesome fairy tale called the Girl Without Hands in the Schloss when she was imprisoned.
“Tay,” Cerene’s tongue twisted. “Take,” she pointed at her glass urn tied to her stomach under her dress.
Shew took it, not knowing what Cerene wanted her to do with it. It looked like the other urns to her left and right. Cerene wasn’t talking anymore. She only pointed at the Wall of Thorns then fell back completely.
“Piggy, Piggy!” Loki shouted from behind the wall, his voice void of sarcasm.
Even if it was going to delay saving Cerene, she had to get rid of him.
Shew took the glass urn and rode her unicorn back to the edge of the wall. She wasn’t going to run through it again. She’d been bleeding for some time, and she was getting weaker.
Loki was already in the middle of the Wall of Thorns, crossing it slowly on his unicorn. Shew felt maddened by the fact that Wall of Thorns considered him a friend and let him pass. She rode close to the edge of the thorns, looking Loki in the eyes.
“This is for Cerene,” she said, and threw her sword like a spear, right into his heart, wiping the nasty smirk off his face. “And this sword has a piece of her in it.
Loki fell back instantly and his unicorn ran away. Shew couldn’t see what happened to him from behind the thicket of thorns, but she was worried. She’d stabbed him in the stomach before and he didn’t die. There was no assurance he’d die when a sword plunged right through his heart.
A moment had passed without him even cursing or talking. Could it be that he was dead? It looked like
