Sword of Justice: book 3

Queen of Skye and Shadow series.

Chapter One part 3

That was my nan’s house. That was her table. Her kitchen.

I’d be damned if I’d let some monster soil her floor with sizzling, viscous blood any more than I was going to let the thing relieve itself in there.

And I wanted that damn table.

I ran headlong for the front of the the wagon and glared at the workhorse that hadn’t so much as whinnied its fear at the arrival of a beast scary enough to make me wet myself.

“Useless,” I muttered to it as I stretched across the bench to reach for one of the weapons.

My pants stuck in places and felt clammy.

“Damned thing,” I said, not sure I was complaining about the pants, the bow, or the beast inside, I just knew I sure as hell wasn’t going to go back in there without some kind of insurance.

My hand wrapped around the bow.

I hefted it, considering its weight. It was spelled and wouldn’t miss its mark. All I had to do was aim it at the target.

“Quiver, quiver, quiver,” I said, as I rummaged for the arrows. I’d put it right next to the bow. After the episode with the dire wolf, I vowed never to be without a weapon again. And here I was letting myself get all complacent because I wasn’t alone anymore. I had folks. Knights, even. Warriors and people who cared.

Apparently, nostalgia wasn’t the only thing that made me weak.

A high-pitched growl came from inside the house, something between a scream of agony and of fury, the kind I’d heard out in the fields when we were fighting the fire and Marlin had said he’d heard the sound once before. Why hadn’t I pressed him to tell me what it was after everything was over?

I eyed the bow and decided it might not be enough. That thing was pretty nasty looking.

I slung the bow over my shoulder along with the quiver when it met my hand, then I unwrapped Excalibur.

If I was going in, I was going in with everything I had.