Chain of Feathers by Seth Ring

Author:Seth Ring [Ring, Seth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Epic Fantasy, Action & Adventure
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Mateo arrived at the meadow from the south, pausing at the edge of the river that cut around it and kept himself hidden behind one of the trees, carefully scanning for any sign that the other teams had arrived. In the center of the meadow he could see a short flag sticking up, confirming his guess that this was one of the four extra flag locations. Seeing no sign of the other teams, he carefully waded across the shallow creek, making sure to keep his bowstring well out of the water. The water was cold, piercingly so, but he suppressed the instinctive chatter of his teeth by gritting them tightly.

Scrambling up the other bank, he kept low, creeping into the grass of the meadow. It was close to waist high, allowing him to hide himself as he crept closer to the flag. He wanted to avoid being seen as much as possible, as it was quite likely that there were other teams on the way. One of the challenges with being in the grass was that while it was hard for Mateo to be seen by people at the edge of the meadow, it was hard for him to see as well, but he had an advantage. As Corvus wheeled overhead, he heard the crow spirit’s gruff voice.

“A team of three just broke the tree line to the northeast.”

That was where the meadow connected to the forest, and hearing this, Mateo stilled, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. With careful movements, he brought the arrow he held to his bowstring, his eyes fixed on the flag.

“They’ve spread out into a triangle,” Corvus reported, “with one heading for the flag, the other two guarding their escape route.”

“What’s the distance?” Mateo asked.

“They’re about forty feet apart.”

Doing some quick calculations, Mateo moved forward, creeping closer to the flag. He was close enough that he could have rushed over and grabbed it, probably before his opponent, but he had another plan in mind. The soft breeze caused the meadow grass to wave, and Mateo, crouched down among the tall stalks, watched the flag carefully. He could see the top half of it, and as the seconds ticked by, he kept himself absolutely still, waiting until the member of the other team closed in.

He saw a hand wrap around the flagpole and yank, pulling the flag out of the ground. Mateo waited for half a beat more, until his opponent had just started to turn. At that moment, he lunged up, his bowstring drawing back, as he aimed and loosed the arrow in one smooth motion. Mateo had lost track of the number of arrows he had fired over the last few months, but it had been so many that he no longer thought about aiming. Instead, he seemed to have an instinctive understanding of how to point his bow, and how the arrow that leapt from it would move. The gentle breeze blowing across the meadow caught his arrow, which he had aimed slightly to the side, causing it to drift as it zipped across the top of the grass.

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