Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
The bow gave a huff rather than a twang, and Elena’s heart sank as Much’s limp arrow leapt to the right, only a few feet away. Much threw the bow down, hopped off the log in frustration, and stormed off.
“I told you,” she said.
“Where’s he going?” Will’s face twisted. “Much, you have to practice, you can’t just…”
The other men called out their empty condolences but laughed it off and returned to their own efforts.
“You have to be careful with him,” she scolded Will, gave his forearm a knowing squeeze, and loped off into the forest after Much.
HE HAD NOT GONE far. She found him sitting on a fallen tree a dozen paces into the woods. Picking at the bark with his fingers. She stomped loudly to announce her arrival.
“Don’t you worry about it,” she said when she caught up to him, messing her fingers through his blond mane. “Nobody gets it right their first time.”
“You do,” he mumbled.
“It’s not my first time,” she corrected him. “I’ve been shooting arrows since I was your age, and I started off terrible.” He made a face, but she was quick to follow. “You held too long, and it tired your arm out. And the bow was too big for you. That’s all.”
“I wanted to make sure I hit it,” he grumbled.
“Here, fix this.” She sat beside him and flipped her long braid onto his shoulder. She felt him tug at it, untangling the twine she kept weaved within. “It doesn’t work that way with arrows. You have to trust your instincts and let the bow do the work.”
A whip-thunk followed by cheering made her look back at the men. David had made his shot and everyone celebrated. A flash of jealousy covered Much’s face.
“I’m not strong enough,” he complained.
“Of course not, that bow is huge! I can’t use it, either.” She shrugged. “But I’ll lend you mine next time. And not everyone is good with a bow, you know.”
“You are.”
“I am.” She tilted her head back dramatically to accept the compliment. “But I could never fight with a quarterstaff the way John does, now could I? And he’s not very good with swords. You’re probably better at that than he is.”
“I don’t know.” He tugged at her hair, then moved away. “I’m not good at anything.”
“Hey, stop that,” she said, turning to look him square. “Why do you say that?”
“I’m too small.”